“I will have the men scattered near the place; it will not do to have them go in a body, lest some of the band should see them and give the alarm. I will notify them to secrete themselves near the spot, with the understanding that when they hear a short, sharp whistle, they collect directly behind the little cottage, where you say the entrance is. Of course you will have to be on the lookout and choose your time. At the same time, I, on hearing the signal, will enter the passage in boats from the sea with my own men.”
“That is well. And now at what hour shall I give the signal?”
“A little before seven will be a good hour; it is quite dark at that time. I will go at once and make arrangements, for we have no time to lose.”
With which words Ronald Edgerton arose, resumed his disguise, and both departed to prepare for the exciting and perilous adventure of the evening.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
“TOO LATE.”
Seven o’clock came, and Dora sat, pale as the robes in which she was arrayed, awaiting the appearance of her persecutor, who was to lead her forth to such a heartless sacrifice.
Very, very lovely she looked in her misty dress of costly lace over glimmering satin.
Nina, ever ready to entertain, had related the history of those fatal robes while decking our wretched heroine.
She shuddered as she heard the story, and felt as if she were being arrayed in a shroud instead of bridal attire.
The dress had been provided for a beautiful lady, brought there like Dora against her will, and whom on seeing, one of the smugglers had become very much enamored with, and desired to marry her. She indignantly refused his suit, but preparations were made for the bridal, the dress and its paraphernalia were all in readiness, but when the time came the bride was missing.