s beginning
to believe that some dark whirlpool or coil of tangles had drowned the
poor diver, when a very gentle noise, like a dabchick playing beneath a
bridge, came from the darkest corner. Nicholas was there, inhaling air,
not in greedy gulps and gasps, like a man who has had no practice, but
leisurely encouraging his lungs with little doses, as a doctor gives
soup to a starved boat crew. Being hailed by loud voices, he answered
not, for his nature was by no means talkative; but presently, with very
little breach of water, he swam to the middle, and asked for his pipe.

"Have you found the gun?" cried Mordacks, whose loftiest feelings had
subsided in a quarter of a minute to the business level. Nicholas made
no reply until the fire of his pipe was established, while he stood in
the water quite as if he were on land, supporting himself by nothing
more than a gentle movement of his feet, while the glow of the
touch-paper lit his round face and yellow leather skull-cap. "In coorse
I has," he said at last, blowing a roll of smoke along the gleaming
surface; "over to yon little cornder."

"And you can put your hand upon it in a moment?" The reply was a nod and
another roll of smoke. "Admirable! Now, then, Joe, and Bob the son of
Joe, do what I told you, while Master Cockscroft and our nimble young
friend get the links all ready."

The torches were fixed on the rocky shelf, as they had been upon the
fatal night; but they were not lit until Joe and his son, sent forth in
the smaller boat to watch, came back with news that the Preventive gig
was round the point, and approaching swiftly, with a lady in the stern,
whose dress was black.

"Right!" cried Mr. Mordacks, with a brisk voice ringing under the
ponderous brows of rock. "Men, I have brought you to receive a lesson.
You shall see what comes of murder. Light the torches. Nicholas, go
under, with the exception of your nose, or whatever it is you breathe
with. When I lift my hand, go down; and do as I have ordered you."

The cavern was lit with the flare of fire, and the dark still water
heaved with it, when the coast-guard boat came gliding in. The crew, in
white jerseys, looked like ghosts flitting into some magic scene. Only
the officer, darkly clad, and standing up with the tiller-lines in hand,
and the figure of a woman sitting in the stern, relieved their spectral
whiteness.

"Commander Hardlock, and men of the coastguard," shouted Mr. Mordacks,
when the wash