"I am."

"I shall say no more, but I shall watch."

"Yes, Renie, do so; and when the yacht comes sailing up the bay, you may know that I come on her."

"I shall not watch for the return of the yacht," said the girl in a sad, despairing tone.

"What will you do?"

"Wait on the beach to see what the waves will bring me. If, when the deed is done, the tide be flowing in, I may gain something from the waves; but if the tide is on the ebb, I shall never gaze on your face again."

There was no mistaking the girl's weird meaning, and her words were practical, as she well knew the results which under certain circ.u.mstances might follow the tidal conditions.

Spencer Vance saw that it was useless to waste further words with Renie and he said

"A few hours will tell the tale, Renie, and--"

The detective did not complete the sentence; voices were heard and Renie exclaimed:

"You and I must not be seen talking together; farewell, and if we never meet again on earth, may we meet where there are no clouds, no shadows, no mysteries." The girl moved away and left the detective standing alone on the beach. The sun had gone down, the moon was just rising out of the sea, and the whole surrounding scene was impressive and one of solemn grandeur.

The detective stood motionless, and the ceaseless murmur of the waves, as they broke upon the sh.o.r.e sounded like a requiem in his ears; but not once did he waver in his purpose. It might be that Renie would prove a true prophet, and if the tide served right those very waves, or rather their successors, might cast his body upon the sh.o.r.e; but despite all, he was determined to sail on the "Nancy" that night to win or die.

Two hours later there was quite a bustle on board the yacht as she was being prepared to sail away.

The trip of the "Nancy" did not as a rule, exceed ten or fifteen hours, as she only ran twenty or thirty miles directly off the coast, where she cruised around waiting for the signal to flash across the water front some incoming vessel, said signal being an intimation as to the character of the craft.

Ike Denman, as commander of the "Nancy," was a different man from Ike Denman carousing with the crew ash.o.r.e.

The "Nancy" was what nautical men would call a magnificent craft, and landsmen would naturally dub her a "daisy." She had been built as a sea-going boat, in the most substantial manner, and was indeed a stanch little mistress of the sea.

It was a beautiful evening as the mainsail was hoisted away and the gallant boat glided over the waters of the bay across the bar, and through the ruffled channel out to sea.

The detective had weighed well the words of the beautiful Renie, and was on the watch. Her suggestion was apt, and, as the detective thought over matters, he came to think that certain little indexes pointed toward a confirmation of her suspicions.

Indeed, it was an awful peril he was facing, were it really a fact that the men had "tumbled" to his ident.i.ty, and were giving him a "blind," leading him, only waiting for the proper moment to cast off their masks and throw him into the sea.

There was one incident in his favor: the men were not at all reserved in the discussion of the business on hand. They talked over the purpose of the night, and opened up their expectations in the most unreserved manner.

The master of the craft, in his orders, made no distinction between our hero and the other members of the crew.

Meantime the boat danced over the waves, and, after an hour or two, was cruising across the track of inward-bound vessels.

Soon there came the announcement of the lights of a vessel, and the "Nancy" was cautiously run on a course which would enable her captain to take observations.

The lights proved to be those of an ocean steamer, and the great leviathan, with its precious freight of human souls, plowed past the taut little yacht distant only half a mile.

When the lights were first seen, the detective was standing forward of the mainmast, and suddenly a pallor overspread his face. If it should prove that the lights were those of an incoming smuggler, the critical moment had arrived for him.

Our hero was intently watching the lights, as were the balance of the crew, waiting for a signal, and so absorbed was he as not to observe the presence of Sol Burton close by his side.

A few moments pa.s.sed, and the lights were made out, and the word was pa.s.sed around, "It's a steamer!"

The detective turned to go aft, when he found himself face to face with Sol Burton.

The two men had met as comrades once or twice before, during the two or three hours the boat had been out on the sea, but not a word had pa.s.sed between them; but as they met after the distinguishing of the lights, Burton addressed our hero and said:

"You're the new man?"

"Yes," was the short answer.

"Your first trip on the 'Nancy?'"

"Yes,"

There was a premonition, of danger in the next words of Sol Burton.

CHAPTER XVIII.

"I think I've seen you before, Ballard!"

Sol Burton spoke in slow and very distinct tones, and his manner betrayed that there was a deep significance in his declaration.

"If you remember having seen me before, you have the advantage, my good friend."

"I think I've seen you before. I met you on board the 'Nancy.'"

"Where?"

"I cannot recall, but there is something in your face that strikes me as very familiar."

The detective laughed in an easy manner, and answered

"Well, you'll have to depend upon your own recollections, I can't aid you to a recognition."

As the detective spoke he remembered Renie's warning words, "Sol Burton, I fear, has his suspicions aroused."

"I noticed you turn pale when we first sighted the lights, Ballard."

"Did you?"

"I did."

Ballard stepped close to Sol Burton, and demanded in a determined tone