Leaning forward, Wells could discern that the rope was seized by one
of the mariners, who had leaped ashore. Then we heard a
grappling-iron scrape along the ground.

Some moments later, steps crunched upon the sand. Two men came up the
ravine, and went onward toward the edge of the woods, guiding their
steps by a ship lantern.

Where were they going? Was Black Rock Creek a regular hiding place of
the "Terror?" Had her commander a depot here for stores or
provisions? Did they come here to restock their craft, when the whim
of their wild voyaging brought them to this part of the continent?
Did they know this deserted, uninhabited spot so well, that they had
no fear of ever being discovered here?

"What shall we do?" whispered Wells.

"Wait till they return, and then--" My words were cut short by a
surprise. The men were not thirty feet from us, when, one of them
chancing to turn suddenly, the light of their lantern fell full upon
his face.

He was one of the two men who had watched before my house in Long
Street! I could not be mistaken! I recognized him as positively as my
old servant had done. It was he; it was assuredly one of the spies of
whom I had never been able to find any further traces! There was no
longer any doubt, my warning letter had come from them. It was
therefore from the "Master of the World"; it had been written from
the "Terror" and this was the "Terror." Once more I asked myself what