near enough to hail the vessels from which the sounds came, and
when we rowed toward them they invariably sank into silence. After
two hours Stumps and Kinney insisted on taking a turn at the oars,
and Lady Moya moved to the bow. We gave her our coats, and, making
cushions of these, she announced that she was going to sleep.
Whether she slept or not, I do not know, but she remained silent.
For three more dreary hours we took turns at the oars or dozed at
the bottom of the boat while we continued aimlessly to drift upon
the face of the waters. It was now five o'clock, and the fog had
so far lightened that we could see each other and a stretch of open
water. At intervals the fog-horns of vessels passing us, but
hidden from us, tormented Aldrich to a state of extreme
exasperation. He hailed them with frantic shrieks and shouts, and
Stumps and the Lady Moya shouted with him. I fear Kinney and
myself did not contribute any great volume of sound to the general
chorus. To be "rescued" was the last thing we desired. The yacht
or tug that would receive us on board would also put us on shore,
where the vindictive Aldrich would have us at his mercy. We
preferred the freedom of our yawl and the shelter of the fog. Our
silence was not lost upon Aldrich. For some time he had been
crouching in the bow, whispering indignantly to Lady Moya; now he
exclaimed aloud:

"What did I tell you?" he cried contemptuously; "they got away in
this boat because they were afraid of ME, not because they were
afraid of being drowned. If they've nothing to be afraid of, why
are they so anxious to keep us drifting around all night in this
fog? Why don't they help us stop one of those tugs?"

Lord Ivy exploded suddenly.