Chapter Seventeen.
The next morning one of the first things that saluted Aleck’s eyes on making his way up to the look-out on the cliff, was the sloop-of-war about a couple of miles out, sailing very slowly along, followed at a short distance by the Revenue cutter, and the lad had not been watching five minutes before he became aware of the fact that Ness Dunning’s work in the garden was at a standstill, that individual being laid flat upon his chest watching the vessels’ movements through a piece of pipe.
Away to the right on the cliffs, dotted about which lay Eilygugg, there was a white speck here and a blue speck there, and a little more intent gazing proved to the lad that there was another speck upon the edge of the farthest cliff in view.
“Women on the look-out to give warning to the smugglers,” thought Aleck, and he hurried back to see if his uncle was down, and if he were not to return to the cliff-top with the glass.
But the captain was just descending, and his first words were:
“That’s right, my boy; let’s have breakfast. By the way, did you get my paper?”
This started the lad, who was crammed with his news, which he hurriedly made known.
“Humph!” said the old man. “Rather a lively experience for you, my lad; but you must be careful, for I don’t want to have you in trouble over helping smugglers to escape.”