spring down upon the
unsuspecting warder, whoever it might be--Torode, or his wife, or any
other. And by such unlooked-for attack I hoped to win the day, even though
it should be Torode himself who came. But I did not believe it would be
Torode, for he had his hands full down below, and Carette was to him only a
very secondary matter.

I half hoped it might be young Torode, for the hurling of my hatred on him
would have been grateful to me. But I thought it would be the mother, and
in that case, though I would use no more violence than might be necessary,
nothing should keep me from Carette.

I lay flat on the rough rock wall and waited. "Carette!" I whispered.

"Phil!"

"I am here just above you, dearest. When you hear them coming, be ready."

The thin darkness was becoming gray. In the sky up above, little clouds
were forming out of the shadows, and presently they were flecked with pink,
and all reached out towards the rising sun. The rocks below me began to
show their heads. It was desperately hard work waiting. I hungered
anxiously for someone to come and let me be doing.

What if they left her till the very last, and only came up, several of
them, to hurry her on board the schooner? The possibility of that chilled
me more than the morning dews. My face pinched with anxiety in accord with
my heart. I felt grim and hard and fit for desperate deeds.

And now it was quite light, and I could see across the lower slope of rocks
to St. Sampson's harbour and the flat lands beyond it.

Would they never come? Hell is surely an everlasting waiting for something
that never comes.

I was growing sick with anxiety when at last the blessed sound of footsteps
on the rocky path came to me, and in a moment I was Phil Carre again, and
Carette Le Marchant, the dearest and sweetest girl in all the world, was
locked behind iron bars just below me, and I was going to release her or
die for it.

But my heart gave a triumphant jump, and there was no need to think of
death, for the coming one was a woman, and she came up the ascent with bent
head and carried food in her hands.

I let her get right to the gate, then, from my knees, launched myself onto
her, and she went down against the bars in a heap, bruising her face badly.
But Carette was all my thought. Before the woman knew what had struck her,
I had her hands tied behind her with twisted strips of her own apron, and
had gagged her with a bunch of the same, and had the key