He heard a remote mutter from Stephen, paddling in the bows: “Too many of these damned tugs!” and another: “This filthy moon !” They were working slowly against the tide between the Island and the mainland of The Chase. Stephen’s plan was to round the top of the Island, cross the river, and get rid of Emily in the shadows of the other side, drifting down with the tide.

Even in the narrow channel by the bank the tide was exasperating, and paddling the boat, heavy with the engine, was slow work and strenuous. But the engine would be too noisy. And it was an uncertain starter.

Stephen said at last, “Hell! get out the sculls!”