It was puzzlingly true that the sound seemed to be moving parallel to the shore and was beginning to pass them. What was even more bewildering was that suddenly the dipping oars stopped entirely and there came across the water the sound of low voices, more than one speaking at a time, as though in heated argument. The three looked at each other in mystified astonishment.
“I think—” began Sally but never got any further. A voice rose suddenly out of the darkness, a man’s voice, but shouting so loud and high that it was almost a scream.
“No,” they heard. “No, no, I will not go!”
There arose a tumult of oaths, of confused, angry words; there was a noise of oars cracking together, then a mighty splash. Billy and Sally Shute ran down the beach with Captain Saulsby vainly trying to follow as quickly.
“I know that voice,” cried Sally, then lifted her own to its utmost strength to call valiantly through the dark.
“Johann, Johann Happs,” she shouted with all her might, then again, “Johann, Johann; we are here.”
Something darker than the dark water
