hiding, for
it's only me, Mike Connell, come to take you away from this--Oh, bad
cess to it, he's not here at all, and it's a great song-and-dance them
Dagos give me! Now I'll have to go and beg a night's lodging of the
old man, and maybe he'll give me a job in place of them as has just
left him. In that case I'll find out something, or me name's not--Holy
smoke! where's me boat? Bad luck to the slippery craft! It's gone
entirely, and here I am left to spend the cruel night alone on a bit
of a rock in the sea. If I was in jail I'd be better off."

It was only too true. The light skiff, carelessly left to its own
devices, had been caught by a gentle breeze and borne without a sound
beyond sight or hearing.

As the second prisoner claimed by the black ledge that day stood
dismally bemoaning his hard fate, a light flashed out above him, and,
glancing upward, he saw what he took to be a man in the act of hanging
two lanterns to a bit of a tree. It was a danger-signal warning the
smugglers to keep away, and Mary Darrell was placing it by order of
her father, who feared Peveril might still be lingering in that
vicinity.

"Hey, lad," cried Connell, noting her slight figure, "will you help a
fellow-creature in distress by tossing down the end of a rope?"

"Are you really still there?" exclaimed the girl, in a tone of dismay,
and striving to peer down through the darkness.

"I am that, but most anxious to get away."

"And if I do let down the rope, will you promise to depart at once the
same way you came?"

"I'll promise anything if you'll only let me up."

"Well, then, there it is. I know I am doing wrong, but I can't leave
you down there all night, for you would be dead by morning."

"True for ye," answered Connell, as he began briskly to climb the
rope, hand over hand.

As his face appeared within the circle of lantern-light, the poor
girl, who was waiting with trembling anxiety, uttered a cry of terror
and fled into the gloom of the cavern.

"Well, if that don't bate my time!" exclaimed the new-comer, as he
gained a foothold on the ledge. "Whatever could the lad be frightened
of?"

CHAPTER XXII

THE SIGNAL IS CHANGED

Peveril had been amazed and disgusted at the sudden turning about and
departure of the boat that had so nearly effected his rescue. Of
course, on recognizing the oarsmen, he understood why they declined to
help him, though it did not enter his mind that they regarded him as a
supern