The night closed in early in that wild Highland region, a night of wind and mist. Not a light gleamed from the deck of The Lucky, as she felt her way between the narrowing rocks. About six o’clock of the early evening, she glided from the narrow river with a sudden bound, as a puff of wind filled her flapping sails, into the hidden loch of the Wilderness.
The yacht lay at anchor at the further side of the loch, and a mile away. A lantern hung at her masthead, and the forms of men were seen in the spectral glare, moving hurriedly to and fro on her deck.
“We have come to the right place, you see,” said Lord Towyn exultantly. “This is the loch. Yonder lies the yacht, but recently come in. The men are busy unloading their purchases.”
Sir Harold and Atkins swept the bold and rocky shores with their keen glances. The rugged steeps were black and bare, and in the dense gloom they saw no gleaming lights, no signs of habitation.
“We must come to anchor up in the deeper shadow of this overhanging cliff,” said Lord Towyn.
The order was obeyed.
“Now lower a boat,” said the earl. “We will go ashore.”
The boat was lowered; the two McDonalds and the four passengers entered it, and the boat was rowed toward the yacht, keeping close to the black shore.
As they drew near, a row-boat was seen to shoot away from the yacht. The McDonalds held their oars uplifted until the yacht’s boat had grounded on the shore, and the three seamen belonging to the yacht had landed. Two of the three employes of Craven Black loaded themselves with hampers and parcels, and the third preceded them up the steep and circuitous path in the mountain side, bearing a lantern which he swung at his side.
“They are all gone up the cliff,” said the earl. “No one is left to watch the shore. Strike out, men. Let us land and follow them up the mountain. The man with the lantern shall guide us as well as his comrades.”