Day uttered a grim exclamation of satisfaction.
"The fools!" he ground out; "they've showed me the way! The schooner lies due north of the customs, where that rocket started from! Keep her straight, lass, and we'll slip 'em yet. They won't risk their boat out—it's worse near the beach than it be here clear of the rocks. Sit still and fear nought!"
With the cool courage belonging to his class, he pulled steadily on, his wife grasping the tiller—for Margaret lay motionless and inert enough now—and peering into the darkness.
Suddenly she uttered a cry.
"The schooner, James! I saw her light for a moment!"
"Ay!" he responded coolly; "she's heard the gun and seen the rocket, and thinks we may be harking back. Show a glim of the lantern toward her, but keep it from the shore."
Cautiously Mrs. Day raised the lantern, with its light side toward the vessel, and an instant afterward a faint light appeared and then went out.
Day laughed cheerily.
"She sees us, lass. Keep up thee heart; it's all right. I've give them chaps the slip once more!"
"Yes, once more!" she responded, with a groan; "but some day or other——"