There seemed to be nothing to wait for, but we hung about the beach till daylight, and then went in and had some breakfast, which Mother Bonnet, who was red-eyed with weeping, had ready for us, and then we went down to the beach again.
By this time the mine people were out once more, and they came and had a look, but there was nothing to see, and no one told the sturdy fellows or their families that Jonas Uggleston had been back. As for me, I only meant to tell my father when he returned.
So the mining people went to work, and we lads stood gazing out to sea, till suddenly Bob Chowne shouted:
“I can see the cutter.”
He was quite right, for it proved to be the cutter, but there was no prize coming slowly behind; and when at last she came close in, the boat was lowered, and we saw my father step in and come ashore with the lieutenant, we were ready to meet them.
I wanted to speak to my father about what had happened in the night, but I had no opportunity, and it seemed that he had only been brought ashore so that he could go up to the mine, give some orders, and then return, when he was to show the lieutenant where the cave lay to which the smugglers had taken their cargo of contraband goods.
The lieutenant walked up to the mine works with my father, and as he evidently wished me to stop, I remained by the cutter’s boat with my companions, and, boy-like, we began to joke the sailors for not catching the lugger.
They took it very good-temperedly, and laughed and said no one had been much hurt.
“He was too sharp for us,” the coxswain said grinning; “and—my! How he did do the skipper over getting away. He’s a cunning old fox, and no mistake.”
“How did you lose the lugger?” I said.