-de-Lance_ to land in force and wipe
Buckhurst and his grotesque crew from the face of the earth.

"Rolland," I said, "here is another hundred francs. Watch that
halyard and guard it. To-night you will string seven of those little
lamps on this other halyard, light them, hoist them, and then go up
that tower and light the three red lamps on the left."

"'Tendu," he said, promptly.

"If you do it I will give you two hundred francs to-morrow. Is it a
bargain?"

The soldier broke out into a torrent of promises which I cut short.

"That lady will never come here again, I think. If she does, she must
not touch those halyards. Do you hear? If she offers you money,
remember I will double it. But, Rolland, if you lie to _me_ I will
have you killed as the Bretons kill pigs; you understand how that is
done?"

He said that he understood, and followed us, fawning and whining his
cowardly promises of fidelity until we ordered the wretch back to the
post which he had already twice betrayed, and would certainly betray
again if the opportunity offered.

Walking fast over the springy heath, I told Speed briefly what I had
done--that the treasure-train would not now leave Lorient, that as
soon as the _Fer-de-Lance_ came in sight of the semaphore Buckhurst's
game must come to an end.

Far ahead of us we saw the flutter of a light dress on the moor;
Sylvia Elven, the spy, was going home; and from the distance, across
the yellow-flowered gorse, her gay song floated back to us:

"Those who die for a maid
Are paid;
Those who die for a creed
God-speed;
Those who die for their own dear land
Shall stand forever on God's right hand!--"

"A spy!" muttered Speed.

"I think," said I, "that she had better leave Paradise at once. Oh,
the little fool, to risk all for a caprice--for a word to the poor
fellow she ruined! Vanity does it every time, Speed."

"I don't understand what you mean," he said.

"No, and I can't explain," I replied, thinking of Kelly Eyre. "But
Sylvia Elven is running a fearful risk here. Mornac knows her record.
Buckhurst would betray her in a moment if he thought it might save his
own skin. She ought to leave before the _Fer-de-Lance_ sights the
semaphore and reads the signal to land in force."

"Then you'll have to tell her," he said, gloomily.

"I suppose so," I replied, not at all pleased. For the prospe