everlasting. It was a clear, still
twilight, and they did not dine till nearly midnight. If the _Good
Intent_ were to send a boat it would be to the back of the island which
the tide never left. Indeed, Leg-o'-Mutton Bay was the only spot where a
boat could land. There was always deep water there.

At one o'clock Stair saw a ship's lights very far away. It was very
doubtful, even supposing that she were the _Good Intent_, that she could
be there in time. But in the crucial hours, Eben the Spy proved himself
wonderfully helpful and encouraging. His Uncle Kennedy never promised
without keeping his promise. There might be a bit of a skirmish as the
men were coming over, but he could warrant that they would be safe on
board along with Captain Penman before ever a soldier set his foot on
the island. On this he would pledge his life.

In view of all the facts this was not very convincing, but all the same
it was distinctly cheering.

The blank night wore to a kind of grey over the sea, though the land was
still in deep shadow. Across the grey ran the coils of the black
causeway. The light was coming fast now and for the first time Eben lost
his equanimity of spirit. He was in haste to have them gone out of the
Tower.

"Take Mrs. Stair down to the landing-place, sir," he pleaded, "take her
to the little cove where the boat will come in. They may be on the
shell-track any time now."

And as he spoke both Stair and he heard and recognized the loud rattle
of a ship's anchor chain.

"There," he cried, "off with you! There is not a moment to lose. Ah,
there they come. But that is only the first of them. I can easily stop
these. Out at the back door! The wicket in the wall is open. Keep on
through the hollow and you will find the boat ready. Do not wait for me.
I have my own life arranged for. Do not fear for me!"

He hustled them out with a haste which left them no time for
explanation. The men who were hastening across the causeway had less
than a mile to run. It was, however, by no means easy going, and it
would take them at least ten good minutes. Stair took Patsy down to the
Shell Bay by the safest path, and even before they reached it they could
hear the beginning of a fusillade in their rear. The boat from the _Good
Intent_ was already on the way, rowed by four sturdy seamen, yet it
seemed to them both as though she would never arrive. They looked behind
them, expecting every moment to see a rush of men come at them