"I was wondering if that's the _Pike_?--come back!" she whispered. "And
if it is--why?"
Copplestone started, and took a longer and keener look at the
vessel. Before he could speak again, Vickers called out cheerily
across the rocks.
"Come on, you two!" he cried. "She's seen us--she's coming in. They'll
have to send off a boat. Let's get down to the beach, so that they'll
know where there's a safe landing."
He sprang over the edge of the cliff and hurried down the rough path;
Chatfield, picking up his coat and shawl, prepared to follow him; Audrey
and Copplestone lingered until he, too, had begun to lumber downward.
"If that is the _Pike_," said Audrey, "there is something--wrong. Whoever
it is that is on the _Pike_ wouldn't come back to take us!"
"You think there is somebody on the _Pike_--somebody other than Andrius?"
suggested Copplestone.
"I believe the man who calls himself Marston Greyle was on the _Pike_,"
announced Audrey. "I've always thought so. Whether Chatfield knew that
or not, I don't know. My own belief is that Chatfield did know. I believe
Chatfield was in with them, as the saying is. I think they were all
running away with as much of the Scarhaven property as they could lay
hands on and that having got it, they bundled Chatfield out and dumped
him down here, having no further use for him. And, if that's the _Pike_,
and they're returning here, it's because they want Chatfield!"
Copplestone suddenly recognized that feminine instinct had solved a
problem which masculine reason had so far left unsolved.
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