They were on the shingle within a quarter of an hour; within a minute or two the yachtsmen had helped all three on to the beach, had carried up certain boxes and packages which had been placed in the boat, had set down the lighted lanthorn, jumped into the boat again and vanished in the darkness.

And in the silence, broken only by the drip of water from the retreating oars, and by the scarcely-noticed ripple of the waves, Audrey voiced exactly what her two companions felt.
"Andrius has kept his word--and cheated us! We're stranded!" From somewhere out of the darkness came a groan--deep and heartfelt, as if in entire agreement with Audrey's declaration.

That it proceeded from a human being was evident enough, and Vickers hastily snatched up the lanthorn and strode in the direction from which it came.

And there, seated on the shingle, his whole attitude one of utter dejection and misery, the three castaways found a sharer of their sorrows--Peter Chatfield!.