He was quite right; some one was ascending a short ladder placed by his window; and as he watched attentively he saw the opening suddenly darkened, and some man’s face gazing straight in.
It was too dark now for him to distinguish the features, and he hoped that the obscurity would favour him by preventing the intruder from seeing what had been done.
It was a time of terrible suspense, probably only of a minute’s duration, but it seemed to Hilary like an hour; and there he lay, with half-closed eyes, gazing at the head so dimly-seen, wondering whether it was Allstone, but unable to make out.
Just then a thought flashed through his brain.
Might it not be a friend?—perhaps a party from the Kestrel arrived in search of him; and, full of hope, he gazed intently at the head. But his hopes sank as rapidly as they had risen, for he was compelled to own that, if it had been a friend, he would have spoken or whistled, or in some way have endeavoured to catch his attention.
At last, wearied with straining his attention, Hilary felt that he must speak, when it seemed to him that the window grew a little lighter, and as he gazed there was a faint scratching noise, telling that the ladder had been removed.
He could bear it no longer, but, softly rising, he made for the window, climbed up, and gently raising his head above the sill, peered out, to be just able to distinguish a dark figure carrying a short ladder, which brushed against the branches of a tree, and then a low, husky cough, which he at once recognised, told him who his visitor had been.
“A contemptible spy!” muttered Hilary, as he dropped back into the chapel. “Now then, has he seen or has he not?”
If he had it was useless to lower down the slab, so Hilary let it stay, and waited minute after minute to see if he would come. But all remained perfectly still, and, to all appearance, the people who made the old place their rendezvous were now away.
Hilary was divided in his mind as to what he should do. To be precipitate might ruin his chance of getting away, while if he left it too long the smugglers might return, and his opportunity would again be gone. He decided, then, on a medium course—to wait, as far as he could judge, for half an hour, and then make his attempt.