We knew the ways of the great headland better than the people, and were about to start upon our climb when Mother Bonnet came up and caught Bigley's arm.

"Think they'll get away, Master Big?" she whispered with her face mottled with white blotches.

"I'm sure of it," he cried triumphantly. "It will soon be dark, too, and father will run in and out among the rocks where the cutter daren't follow."

"To be sure he will," said the old woman with a nod and a smile. "They will get away if--if--Oh! There goes that horrible gun again!"

The poor creature turned white and hurried away from us to get a better view of the chase, while Bigley and I climbed right up by degrees to the very highest point of the headland and sat upon the rocks watching the long chase, with the cutter, in spite of her superior rig and sailing powers, seeming to get no nearer to her prey, while the evening shadows were descending, and the two vessels kept growing more distant from the Gap.

The cutter continued firing at regular intervals, and once we thought that the lugger was. .h.i.t. But if she was the shot made no difference to her attempts at escape; and though we stayed up there in our windy look-out, fully expecting to see her lying like a wounded bird upon the water with broken wing, no spar came down, and at last the fugitive and the pursuer had become specks in the distance, fading completely from our sight.

"It's no use to stay any longer," I said. "Let's go down now."

Bigley strained his eyes westward and seemed unwilling to stir.

"It will be so dark directly we shall have a job to get down," I said.

"Your father's sure to get away."

"Yes," said Bigley; "they'll never catch him now. He'll get right away in the darkness."

Just then there was a familiar hail from below.

"Chowne, ahoy!" I responded; and as we reached to about half-way down we encountered Bob coming up panting and excited.

"You are a nice couple!" he began to grumble. "I do call it mean."

"What is mean?" I said.

"Why, to have all the fun to yourselves and never send for a fellow. If it hadn't been for the firing I shouldn't have known anything about it.

I wouldn't have been so shabby to you."

"Why, I didn't think about you, Bob," I said.

"That's just like you, Sep Duncan. But I say, what a game!"

"I don't see much game in it," I said sadly. "Big's father is in the lugger, and mine--"

"In the cutter trying to catch him," cried Bob. "Oh, I say, what a game!"

"Look here!" said Bigley in a deep husky voice, "come down along with me, Sep, and take hold of my arm. I feel as if I wanted to fight."

I did as he asked me and we went down, with Bob very silent coming behind, evidently feeling that he had said too much.

Bigley went straight to the cottage, where Mother Bonnet was waiting for him and ready to catch him by the shoulder.

"There now, my dear! It's of no use for you to hang away," said the old woman. "I've got a nice supper ready, and you must eat or else you won't be able to help your poor father if he should come back."

"But he won't come back," said Bigley. "He will not dare."

"I don't know what he may not do when it's quite dark," said the old woman. "There! You come and sit down, and you too, my dears, for you must be famished."

Bigley yielded, and Bob and I were going away, but Bigley jumped up and stopped us.

"I'm not bad friends, Bob," he said, holding out his hand. "You didn't mean what you said, only when a fellow speaks against my father it hurts me, and--"

"I'm so sorry, Big," exclaimed Bob eagerly, and they shook hands.

I was glad, but still I was going away. Bigley stopped me though.

"I sha'n't eat if you don't," he said.

"But I can't now after what has happened," I said.

"It wasn't your fault," replied Bigley gloomily. "Your father was obliged to speak. Come and sit down."

I was so faint and exhausted that I yielded, and we three lads made a tremendous meal, to Mother Bonnet's great delight.

This ended, the inclination was upon us all to go fast asleep after the broken night we had pa.s.sed; but Bigley jumped up and led the way to the door.

"Come along," he said. "The cutter will be back soon to clear off the cargo, and I want to hear what they say."

He walked out and we followed him to the beach, which was quite deserted; and we three lads began to walk up and down, too much excited to feel sleepy now, and kept on gazing out to sea for the returning cutter.

CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE.

BIGLEY DOES NOT THINK HIS FATHER IS A DOG.

We went up to the cottage two or three times, to find Mother Bonnet keeping up the fire and the table laid for a second supper; and then we went back to the beach.

Everything was perfectly still. The mine people had long before gone to bed, but we watched on, feeling sure that something was going to happen; and so it was that about half-past twelve we heard oars, and soon after made out a boat which was being pulled by four men, while as soon as we were seen a voice cried from the boat:

"Ahoy! Who's there?"

"Father!" cried Bigley excitedly.

"Hush! Who's there?" said old Jonas as we felt quite stunned with surprise.

"Only Bob Chowne and Sep Duncan, father."

"No one else?"

"No one."

"Pull, my lads!" cried old Jonas; and as the boat grated on the beach he leaped ash.o.r.e.

"I shall not be a quarter of an hour," he said. "Keep her afloat.