“Now’s our chance. Her be beatin’ down Channel. The lads ’a sighted she round t’ corner. Her’ll be passin’, in an hour. ’Tis zo dark’s a hadge out o’ doors, and ’twill be cruel cold bimbye. The bwoys are all out ready with the false light. We’m goin’ to put out t’other light, then we’ll be all ready.”
The light leaped into Saul’s sombre eyes as this news was brought by a pair of breathless and excited fishermen, after more than ten days of anxious watching. So soon as the last moon had begun to wane, a close watch was established all along the coast, and had been continued on every dark night since; and as all the nights had been wild and dark, the watch had never been relaxed. The watchers kept their look-out from a little cove not more than four miles off as the crow flies, but situated just where the coast made a great bend, so that the coasting vessels had to make a great détour, and took a considerable time getting round the point, especially with a raging north-westerly gale driving up Channel as on to-night.
“Be she a zailin’ ship?” asked Saul.
“Naw, her be one o’ they new-fangled ones wi’ smoke querkin’ out of her middle. Yu’ll be gwoin’ to the bwoat, Zaul, mappen, and get she out. Us’ll be a’ter yu quick’s us can. ’Twidden tak’ us long to put out ol’ Joey’s light.”
“I’ll go tu the boat,” answered Saul, seizing his crutch “She’s all ready at her moorin’s. Yu’ll find me there when yu’ve changed the lights. I’ll watch for yu tu come. I s’pose it’s pretty quiet in the bay?”
“Ess zure. Win’s tu northerly tu hurt she. Us wunt keep yu long waitin’. Coome on, lad. Us is bound vur tu be sharp.”
The men hurried off through the driving rain and bitter wind of midnight upon their diabolic errand; and Saul, with a look upon his face which spoke of a purpose equally diabolic, limped down to the shore, seeming to see in the dark like a cat, and took up his place in his own stout and seaworthy little boat.
It was what sailors call a “dirty night,” a stiff half-gale blowing, and scuds of rain driving over, making the darkness more pitchy whilst they lasted. There was no moon, and the sky was obscured by a thick pall of low-lying cloud. It was the kind of night just suited to a deed of darkness and wickedness, such as the one about to be perpetrated.
Saul, with a face that matched in gloom and wildness the night itself, sat in his boat with his eyes fixed steadfastly upon the gleaming light in the lantern-tower of the castle, that strong and steady light which shone out over the waste of waters like a blessing as well as a beacon. All at once, even whilst he watched, the light suddenly flickered and went out, whilst at the very same instant up sprang another light, equally steady and strong, on the other side of the bay, which, after flickering for a few moments, settled down as it were, and burned on with a fixed and calm radiance.
Saul’s face, turned towards it, seemed to catch a momentary gleam. His dark eyes glowed and flashed in their hollow caverns. His hands clenched themselves convulsively upon the tiller by which he sat. There was in his fierce heart a throb of triumphant satisfaction which made life almost a joy to him at that moment. He felt a spring of life well up within him, such as he had not experienced for months. After all, so long as vengeance remained to him, life was not altogether devoid of joy.