If it should be so, and the collision could be brought about between the drunken ruffian and Leicester Dodson, how much trouble would be spared him!
While he was listening and watching impatiently, he saw the star, which Jem had seen shoot up from the sea, and which the captain knew for the signal from the smuggler's vessel, rise into the air.
"They'll come now," he muttered. "They'll come; and that young idiot not here yet!"
Even as he spoke, and raised his hand to wipe the perspiration which excitement had raised upon his forehead, Martha's shrill voice could be heard.
"Out with you! You've had enough to-night, and more than enough! As for you, Jem Starling, you're a disgrace to the house, and I wish that master o' yours had hunted you out o' the village."
"He's no master o' mine," hiccoughed Jem's voice, as the small crowd poured out. "He's a nasty, mean sneak, as used me when he wanted me, and then turned me off! But he can't give me the sack so easily! I'll be even with him! I knows—I knows——"
"Come on, and hold your tongue!" cried two or three voices, and the captain knew that there were several hands dragging the drunken man away.
And, at that moment, Jem uttered a snarl, and the captain, peering out to ascertain the cause, saw that Leicester Dodson was striding down the path.