While Staffer was leaving Appleyard, Andrew was picking his way toward the burnfoot, across a boggy heath. He had landed about an hour earlier and gone to a farm to ask for a horse and trap and had sent a man to Annan for a doctor. Now he was returning as fast as possible, because he felt anxious about Dick; but caution was needed, for many deep drains crossed the heath. The mist had closed in again, and, as he stopped at the last drain to look for a narrow spot, he heard the languid splash of the surf and the wild cry of a black-backed gull. For some reason, the harsh sound disturbed him; and, jumping the drain where he stood, he went on as fast as he could. The splash of the sea grew louder, and at last he saw an indistinct figure waiting near the water's edge. Andrew was used to the sands at night, but the motionless dark form seemed to strike a deeper note of desolation. His steps slackened as he approached it.
Whitney waited until he came up, and then put his hand on his arm.
"I'm afraid you must brace yourself against a shock," he said gently.
There was silence for the next minute, except for the mournful murmur of the sea.
"It wasn't long after you went ashore," Whitney added. "He looked up and beckoned me to sit on the locker by his cot. 'Tell Andrew I'm glad he'll have Appleyard,' he said."
"He lay still afterward, and I thought he'd gone to sleep. Then the cabin seemed to grow strangely quiet, and when I got up to look at him I saw that he was dead."
"The hurried trip down-channel killed him, and he made it for my sake!" Andrew said, in a tense, hoarse voice.
"You mustn't take that for granted; but, if true, he certainly wouldn't grudge the risk. He might have died at any time from some trifling exertion."
Andrew indicated the dinghy, in which he had rowed off from the yacht alone.
"The bank's steep and I sheered her in until I could jump from the bowsprit end. I didn't want you to come on board without knowing."
"Thanks," said Andrew. "I'm going off to her now. Try to get into Marshall's hut and make a fire. We'll have to wait some time for the doctor."
He launched the dinghy, and when he returned Whitney had lighted a few sticks and peats in the fisherman's sod hut. Andrew's face was grave as he sat down on an empty box.