Part 21 (2/2)

”About two years; I can't say exactly.” Andrew stopped to light his pipe, and then asked with a smile: ”Do you think of trying for the coal?”

”I was wondering whether the men who quit the business left that candle. Would a candle burn after rolling about for two years in salt water?”

”I don't know; it's an interesting point,” Andrew replied thoughtfully, and moved toward a timber from which he sc.r.a.ped a patch of grease. ”It was stuck on here when it was used and that must have been after she took the sharp list. If she'd been upright, the flame would have scorched the knee and I see no sign of that.”

”Would she list over when she struck the bank?”

Andrew knitted his brows as if the question were an important one.

”I'm not sure. She'd have a full cargo, and these vessels are built with flat floors to lie on the ground. It's only westerly breezes that drive much broken water up the Firth, and though she lists to the east, she hasn't gone very far over yet.”

”In short, the chances are that she stood nearly upright when they were working at the coal.”

”Yes,” said Andrew gravely, ”I think she did.”

Whitney was silent for a moment or two, listening to the turmoil of the sea and the uproar of the gale that filled the shadowy hold with confused sound, through which came the steady trickle of water running out on the sand. He felt that the wreck had a secret.

”You must see what I'm getting after,” he said. ”It looks as if somebody had been here since the salvers gave her up.”

Andrew nodded.

”The blocks on the masthead are not the kind they'd use for heaving cargo out; besides, they'd want a gaff. Then the signal-halyard felt quite sound.”

”If you wanted to get on board, would you take a whammel boat?”

”It depends. A whammeler couldn't get alongside if it was blowing from the west; and since the tide runs out fast she'd have to leave early on the ebb. If she came on the flood, the wreck would soon be covered.”

”Then anybody who meant to get on board would, if possible, walk across the sands, which narrows things down. Now we come to another point. Why would anybody wish to board her?”

Andrew said nothing for a minute and then answered thoughtfully:

”Of course, I've seen where you were leading. The signal-halyard would lift the steel triangle they use with a wireless installation, and they'd get some height at the masthead. Besides, messages travel farthest at night; and the operator wouldn't be seen crossing the sands. I don't know whether he could carry the necessary apparatus, but he might hide it in a watertight box. The candle will be out in a minute, so we can't look.”

”You don't know yet if he could cross the sands.”

”That's true. I'm going to find out. You had better climb up while the light lasts.”

Whitney reached the deck with some difficulty, and it was dark below when Andrew joined him.

”We haven't much time to lose if we're to see whether it's possible to get here from the beach.”

They dropped over the side and set off across the bank. The wind buffeted them and driving sand rattled on their oilskins. Whitney hoped that Andrew was going straight, because the moon was obscured again, and the Solway tide rises remarkably fast. For a time they saw nothing but shallow pools in winding hollows and b.a.l.l.s of foam that seemed half solidified as they blew along the ground. Whitney thought it must be past low-water, but Andrew trudged quietly on and he made no protest. At last they came to a broad stream of water, and he noted with mixed feelings that there was no way of getting round. He was not sorry that it threatened to stop their advance; but his comrade was not easily daunted and might try to wade across.

”As there's not likely to be another big gutter between us and the beach, it would be a pity to turn back now,” Andrew shouted.

”I'll wait and see how you get on,” Whitney replied.

Andrew plunged in and was soon knee-deep. When he had gone a few yards farther, the water splashed about the skirts of his oilskin jacket and he came out.

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