l it is dark enough to throw him over. And you'll surely
catch old Fraser and the two women on the road between eleven and two.
It will take over an hour to drive from the pier in this weather.

"All right!" sternly said Hawke. "Send your man right away. I will tell
them what to do later, when I meet them. Let him send the boatswain and
two men to meet us here, and wait and hide with the others around the
tower. I will hunt in the bushes till I run on them. Stay! He can come
back here to me with the three!"

It was already dark when the four men returned to where Alan Hawke lay
perdu with his murderous mate. Not a light was now to be seen but the
one glimmer below in the "Public," on the Rozel pier. And the very last
words had been spoken between "Gentleman Jack Blunt" and his crafty
employer. "Now, remember," said Jack, "Antoine here goes down with
orders to come up the cliff ahead of old Simpson. You'll surely be
warned of his approach. You can give the boatswain his orders; there'll
be three to one. Your man leads you to your men at the tower. And I am
to crack that crib and make for the Hirondelle!

"If chased, the boat runs out to sea, and you are both only honest,
French fishermen storm-driven ashore in search of supplies!"

"That's it, Jack! You are to wait for me, if the house is not alarmed.
I'll bring some 'passengers,' perhaps, on board. If I fail, you are just
to run for Granville. We will all meet at Etienne's. I've got money to
take care of all my men. You are to make no miss. I can wait and try
again if I am disappointed. I'll take no chances. With your success,
I can hold the old miser down, and your two thousand pounds is safe;
besides, the swag is your security. You see, he will never dare to make
any public outcry, for he secretly fears the Government! We take only
the safest chances. He may stay down there all night at St. Heliers, and
your lucky chance will never come again. Go ahead, and do not fail!"

The two men grasped hands in an excited clinch. "Do up Simpson for a
dead man, and no mistake!" hoarsely whispered Jack Blunt.

"I'll fix the old blanc-bec," growled the boatswain, as the spy slid
down the hill toward Rozel Pier.

"Take my flask, Jack!" said Alan Hawke.

"I don't drink on duty!" simply replied Blunt. "I shall get at work by
eleven, and you'll hear from me by midnight! Then, look out only for
yourself! The boat is mine, if there's any alarm. I'll send her back
soon to Rozel Pi