"Now, Gumley, I'm going up to the room at the top. Not through the door, but up the outside with the help of these steps." He opened his bundle. "See, they fit into holes in the wall. Are you sailor enough still to come up after me and bring down the steps when I've got to the top?"
"Try me, sir. True, I've only one leg, but that's sound; and my arms—look at 'em, sir."
"That's all right. When you've got the steps, hide in the bushes with Comely until you hear me whistle. Then you'll come and take charge of a man I think you'll find here."
"Ay, ay, sir."
Jack mounted, Gumley after him. The latter removed the steps and disappeared into the thicket, while Jack closed the trap-door, and sat on the rickety chair, waiting.
Hours passed. It was very cold. Jack knew that De Fronsac would not leave the Grange until the family were asleep; he could only wait, wrapped up in his cloak, walking about quietly at intervals to keep himself awake.
At last he heard a slight click outside. Instantly he concealed himself in the hole behind the bedstead, leading to the staircase. To insure the full success of his plan it was necessary that the signaler should make his preparations undisturbed.
He heard some one enter the room by the trap-door, and immediately afterward saw a gleam of light. Peeping out, he recognized with a thrill that the intruder was De Fronsac, as he had expected, and that he was alone. He had lit the lamp, the glass of which was turned away from the window; the long roll of cardboard and a pistol lay beside it. Then he went to the window and looked out to sea. He was evidently waiting for a signal from the lugger.
"Peste!" he muttered, slapping his shoulders. "Comme il fait froid! Il est en retard. Quand viendra-t-il?"
Pistol in hand, Jack stepped quietly out of his hiding-place. De Fronsac started, swung round, and stared with amazement, for there, in the light of the lamp, stood the boy he had kidnapped, and a pistol was pointed full at his head.