This Aleck did after the customary nicking and blowing. The candle in the lanthorn was lit, and the lads, after cautiously testing the depth of the water, indulged in a good bathe, gaining confidence as they swam, and finally dried themselves upon an exceedingly harsh towel formed of a piece of canvas, one of many hanging where they had been thrown over pieces of rock.
As they dressed they could see that it was getting lighter inside the arch, which gradually showed more plainly, and as the water grew lower during the time that they partook of the meal which formed their breakfast, the twilight had broadened, so that both became hopeful of seeing the tide sink beneath the crown of the arch so as to give them a glance at the sunlit surface of the sea.
“How long are you going to wait for the smuggler?” asked the middy, suddenly.
“Not long,” was the reply. “It is not fair to you. But I should like to give him a little law. What do you say to waiting here till the tide has got to its lowest, and as soon as it turns we’ll start?”
“Very well, I agree,” said the midshipman, “for I don’t think that we shall have long to wait. I was expecting it to go down so low that I should see the full daylight yesterday, but before I got the slightest peep it began to rise again.”
“But it came lighter than this?” said Aleck.
“No; I don’t think it was so light as this. I believe it is just about turning now.”
The sailor proved to be right; and as soon as Aleck felt quite sure he turned to his companion and proposed that they should start.
“I don’t know what my uncle will say,” he said. “You’d better come home with me. He will be astonished when he sees that I have found you.”
“Did he know that I was lost?”