“Yes; I keep expecting to see a boat come round the corner into sight. I shouldn’t like to be here when they did come.”
“But it’s so disappointing!” cried Mike. “I thought we were going to have all this to ourselves.”
“I don’t think I did,” said Vince thoughtfully.
“But I don’t believe you’re right, Cinder. These things can’t have been put here in our time, or we must have known of it. See what a little place the Crag is.”
“Yes, it’s small enough, but the Scraw has always been as if it were far away, and people could come here and do what they liked.”
“But they wouldn’t be so stupid as to come here and leave things for nobody,” said Mike. “Is there anybody here who would want them?”
“No,” replied Vince; “but smugglers might make this a sort of storehouse, and some bring the things here from France and Holland and others come and fetch them away. There, come on, and let’s get up into the crack. I don’t feel safe. It has regularly spoiled our place, though, for whoever comes here must know of the other cave.”
“Well,” said Mike, as they stood by the rope, and he gazed longingly back at the rich store he was about to leave behind, “I’ll come; but I don’t believe you’re right.”
“You’ll soon see that I am, Ladle; for before long all these things will be taken away—perhaps by the time we come again.”
“If it’s as you say we shan’t be able to come again,” replied Mike rather dolefully; and then, in obedience to an impatient sign from his companion, he took hold of the rope and climbed slowly up, passing in at the opening, and being followed by Vince directly after.