A capital notion, and we proceeded to put it into execution, and altogether accomplished about a dozen letters, each directed to different members of our beloved family. All being ready, the darkness impenetrable, we looked out and saw two lights burning. One we supposed to be the ship light, the other Madame's, which she was to light when all were asleep. With the utmost expedition, but the greatest caution and silence, we slid down the rocks in a different direction from the lights, that no rolling stone or slipping feet might be heard. Once on the sand, our noiseless feet flew, as well as they could consistent with the caution necessary in such darkness, and the way in which a bright light, under such circumstances, deceives you. We kept by the moving waves in part to guide us. We came to the bathing place. Now we must creep on our hands and knees, we are so near. We touch Madame—happiness inexpressible. Silently, Gatty, Oscar, and I creep into the boat; we tie handkerchiefs and towels round the two oars; nevertheless, what a noise we make, but we are very nearly reckless. Madame wraps her arms round Sybil, lest her impatience should make her throw herself into the water, in her wish to get to her second self. Now we touch the ship. Gatty and I are on deck like cats. We have taken off our shoes that our footsteps may not be heard. Otty keeps to the boat. We creep to the lamp and get a light, and then go down stairs. We try a door, but it is locked. Gatty goes back to Otty, and tells him to move under the cabin windows, to see if he can find them out there. I try to push some of my long hair through the key-hole to attract their attention, but the key is in. I then thrust some letters under the door. I hear their voices, but am just frantic at not being able to make them hear, but Oscar has. It is all right; they know him, and speak to him. I hear Schillie say, "Where is June?" How can we be so rash, and make such a noise. I can only account for their not hearing us by the fact that they were completely knocked up with the heat and work of the day, and had no idea there were any more people on the island; and, as the boat was on shore, their prisoners could not escape by themselves; so that in all security they sleep profoundly. Now then, at last, the door opens, and we see them, but not a word is spoken, and, merely squeezing our fingers, they pass out. I hide the letters in different parts of the cabin, and, finding them all ready in the boat, we push off, and in a few minutes, guided by the friendly light, Serena is in Sybil's arms. They hurry off the same way we came, only treading in the waves that their footsteps may not be traced. I remain behind but to fasten up the boat in the same way we found it; and then, after some difficulty, many falls, and constant losing our way, owing to the darkness, we hear the welcome sounds of the waterfall. Heedless of a wetting, we rush in, we are safe, we are in the cavern, and then what a scene takes place. But no pen can describe it. Mine cannot.
CHAPTER XXXI.
Exhausted by our many emotions, and the agony of the last twenty-four hours, we slept until very late. But our first words on awaking were, "Is the ship gone?"
Yes! she was gone from her mooring; nevertheless she was lying to, and the boat came off to shore with about ten men in it. They lost no time, but hurried about in every direction to find what we were certainly not going to lose sight of again. We heard them wrangling and grumbling as they searched all about Cartref Pellenig. A gun recalled them to the ship after they had spent many fruitless hours in the search. Ere sunset arrived, the low black hull of the evil ship was hardly to be traced on the horizon. Then we questioned the three heroines as to their adventures.
Schillie.—"Odious beasts."
Mother.—"Is that all you have to say about them?"
Schillie.—"Wretches."
Mother.—"But, Serena, what do you say?"