n, nevertheless, and Marjorie, for a time,
lost sight of them. She crawled closer to the edge of the cliff, but she
knew her position to be dangerous if she attempted to get over the light
railing which had been put up on account of the crumbling condition of
the edge. Further to the right the rail ceased, and the ground became a
steep slope to the sea, but trees and low shrubs prevented so good a
view as she had at present. There was nothing for it, therefore, but to
wait.

Comforting herself with assurances that Alan was far better able to take
care of himself than she was, she climbed to the top of the railing, and
sat watching the strange ship. Suddenly she noticed that every stitch of
canvas was being run up, and a moment later signal flags flew out at the
masthead. In great excitement, she glanced down at the surging water
below her, and sure enough the little boat was shooting into view, and
rowing rapidly away towards the ship. In her efforts to discover what it
all meant she almost forgot to look for Thomas in the boat, but when she
remembered to count the men, she was disappointed to find exactly the
same number that there had been at first.

Greatly puzzled, she gazed at the retreating dinghy. What had been its
business, and why had the signal flown out so suddenly? Marjorie hated
to be puzzled over things. 'There can be but one explanation,' she
thought, 'and that is, Thomas has been too late to catch the boat, and
they could not wait for him. It serves him right.' She hoped he would
now be caught red-handed. The sun had sunk low in the horizon by the
time the dinghy reached the vessel, and nothing could be more beautiful
than the slowly sailing ship moving across the great ball of fire. It
looked like a fairy craft as it sank out of sight.

Marjorie sprang to her feet. 'How late it is!' she thought, with dismay.
'I wonder where Alan is? He will be in a jolly rage when he finds I'm
nowhere to be found; and all for nothing too!'

She ran lightly down the hollow, the wood looking dark and gloomy in the
fading light. Fearing she might miss the way into the Smuggler's Hole,
she walked more cautiously as the shadows deepened; it was fortunate she
did. She had hardly gone ten yards before she heard voices so near that
there was barely time to sink down behind the bushes before Thomas and
his friend passed along the path towards the cliff.

'Well, what do you make of it?' she heard Thomas say in a sullen tone.