e set and haggard, and their eyes encountered
with a sombre disaffection that augured but ill for success. Strife was
latent.

Christian's glance rested on the Adventurer, unhooded to the morning
light, and he guessed him, and knew him by silver mane and black brows an
old lion-lord of a famous herd. The ray of recognition was caught and
weighed. 'He has not been trusted, yet his looks are fit,' ran the old
man's thoughts. He weighed Philip, whose features twitched, whose hands
were nervous, who eyed his fellow with an uncertain glance, wavering at a
return impassive as stone. Without hesitation he questioned for
clearance.

'Is all well--so far?'

'Ay--so far?'

'At your discretion I would hear how our chances lie, and on what side
peril. To a landsman we carry on in an aimless fashion.'

Philip looked at him straight enough, then furtively towards Christian.
The stranger dropped his voice.

'Is danger yonder?'

Philip did not answer him, and strengthened in misdoubt, he spoke with a
note of authority.

'I would know your plans.'

'You shall,' said Philip, but still he looked at Christian, and found it
hard to begin. He took heart of wine.

'Hearken--you also, Christian.

'Sir, my undertaking is to put you aboard a foreigner, due to pass with
her consorts off the Land's End, may be this day, or to-morrow at latest,
whose part is but to contrive so that darkness may cover this bit of
contraband trade.

'Your flight discovered will for sure have brought an embargo on all the
coast. Not a sail will be out, but chasers on the watch. Ashore now, not
a chance were possible; but we took wing betimes; and here may we bide
under daylight, and at night make again for the Land's End to watch our
chance.'

'Go on. This contrivance is too incredibly bald to suffice. How, then,
when presently a patrol sails round yonder head?'

'May Heaven forfend!'

'Heaven! are you mad? Is all our security to be the grant by Heaven of a
miracle?'

'First, sir, I will tell you that we are like enough to be unharried;
for it cannot be in mortal reckoning that we should dare here, since this
place is a death-trap to be given wide berth in winter gales.'

'The very place to seek men fugitive and desperate.'

'By your leave, sir, I came into this venture as a volunteer, and not
from desperation.

'The special danger of these coasts you do not know. Our winter storms,
sudden and fierce, strike here at their hardest. Learned me