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I saw Pyecroft's arm fly up; heard at the same moment the severing of the tense rope, the working of the wheel, Moorshed's voice down the tube saying, "Astern a little, please, Mr. Hinchcliffe!" and Pyecroft's cry, "Trawler with her gear down! Look out for our propeller, Sir, or we'll be wrapped up in the rope."
De Peyster pondered her poignant problem, What should she do? wishful that Matilda were present to talk the affair over with her. But Matilda was still busy in the kitchen with the odd jobs of night-end. Toward ten o'clock Mr. Pyecroft came in again. He stood and gazed silently down upon her. The one electric light showed her an odd, dry smile on Mr. Pyecroft's face. "What is it?" Mrs.
At this point I reclined without shame on Mr. Pyecroft's bosom, supported by his quivering arm. "Well?" said Moorshed, scowling into the darkness, as 267's bows snapped at the shore seas of the broader Channel, and we swayed together. "'You'd better go on, says Commander Fassett, 'an' do what you're told to do. I don't envy Hignett if he has to dry-nurse the Gnome's commander.
His first look of astonishment gave way to an empurpled confusion, from which a single short Silenus-like chuckle escaped, but this quickly changed again into a dull coppery indignation, and, as Pyecroft's laugh continued, faded out into a sallow rigidity in which his murky eyes alone seemed to keep what was left of his previous high color.
The footsteps paused before the sitting-room door. The confederates gripped each others' arms. "Are you sure you saw that person come in here?" they heard a voice ask Jack's voice. "I'm certain." The voice that answered was Mary's. "I'll bet it was a sneak thief," said a third voice Mr. Pyecroft's.
They'll be worth followin'. Or are you goin' back to your nice little cabin on the Pedantic which I lay they've just dismounted the third engineer out of to eat four fat meals per diem, an' smoke in the casement?" The figure in the jersey lifted its head and mumbled. "Yes, Sir," was Mr. Pyecroft's answer.
I heard the dinghy splash overboard ere I could cry "Murder!" Heard the rasp of a boat-hook along the wire-rope, and then, as it had been in my ear, Pyecroft's enormous and jubilant bellow astern: "Why, he's here! Right atop of us! The blighter 'as pouched half the tow, like a shark!" A long pause filled with soft Devonian bleatings. Then Pyecroft, solo arpeggie: "Rum? Rum? Rum? Is that all?
That, with what Judge Harvey and William can smuggle in, should keep us provided for." Mr. Pyecroft's suggestion was approved by the majority. As an addendum to his proposal Matilda was ordered to answer the bell whenever rung; if she did not, with the knowledge abroad that she was in the house, a dangerous suspicion might be aroused.
Come along!" By this time I was long past even hysteria. I remember Pyecroft's bending back, the surge of the driven dinghy, a knot of amazed faces as we skimmed the Cryptic's ram, and the dropped jaw of the midshipman in her whaler when we barged fairly into him. "Mind my paint!" he yelled. "You mind mine, snotty," said Moorshed.
Breathless, the trembling conspirators clung yet more desperately. "But how could she get in?" queried the excited voice of Mary. "I understood that Mrs. De Peyster locked the door before she went away." "Skeleton key," was Mr. Pyecroft's brief explanation. "Mrs. De Peyster, we three will watch the door to see she doesn't get out there may have been more than one of her.
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