t was there. Another had been a witness to this
interview. Looking through the casement was the visage of the mariner,
no longer stern, but moved with unutterable emotion, and tears, yes,
tears trickling down his weather-beaten cheeks. This soon ceased,
however, and a frown dark and terrible passed over his face; his
powerful frame quivered, then settled down into one look of deep,
determined, implacable resolve. He entered the hut, and laying the
agent's receipt upon the chest, quitted without a word.

CHAPTER V.

THE CAPTURE.

The sun had set about an hour on the evening of the same day, when Mr.
Lambert, with two stout attendants, set out from his residence on the
outskirts of the village, and took his way through the intervening wood
towards the sea shore. The two men with him were London officers, adepts
at thief catching, resolute and determined; they were well armed, but
bore no badge of their occupation outside. The agent had screwed his
courage to the point of accompanying them, with some difficulty, but he
was well aware that if they failed in capturing their man, he would have
to encounter the nobleman's rage, and he feared the loss of his favor
more than the chance of being shot or stabbed by Hunter; but he knew
well it was an errand of no small danger he was upon; yet they were
three to one, and he counted much upon the instructions he had given to
Curly Tom; much also on Hunter's habit of drink, still he felt by no
means easy and would have given much then to have been quietly in his
bed; not so the officers; they were in high glee, the prospect of a
desperate encounter being by men inured to deal with ruffians as they
were, but small in comparison with the hope of a large reward.

They proceeded in silence, however--the agent, who was perfectly
familiar with the way, leading. They soon emerged into the open country,
and after a few miles began to ascend, and felt the keen air from the
sea blow upon their faces--the path soon became rugged and uneven, but
sloping towards the sea. In a short time they reached the beach. Here
they dismounted and tied their beasts up under a shed, placed there for
the purpose of drying fish. There was no moon, but it was a bright
starlight night, and the tide was out. Creeping cautiously along, they
skirted the base of a large cliff which projected far beyond low water
mark, and against which the sea beat in fury when the tide was in; and
keeping on its inner side