“And if he does?”
“If he does, I shall hope that the time has come for which we have been waiting and hoping. I shall hope that Haywood shall have occasion to be on hand when the goods are run in, and that Jessup will see him in conference with his employees. Then a signal will be given from the cliff—a calcium light on a rocket—and the Porter will intercept the smuggler’s vessel as it turns to go. Haywood will be masked, of course, but Jessup will descend to the beach, and follow him secretly. He will see where he goes, he will see him strip himself of his disguise, he will witness the confirmation of Felton’s story, or——”
“Or what?”
“We have made a grand mistake—that’s all.”
“But do you anticipate that?”
“No; I am confident that we are on the right track.”
The conversation ceased here. There was nothing to do but to wait for the expected message from Jessup, Mr. Stark’s secret agent at Dalton.
Leonard still retained his disguise, and was known as the Rev. Mr. Withers. There were those in the service who knew that the character was an assumed one, but they had learned by experience not to be too inquisitive in regard to affairs of which Mr. Stark had the conduct, and the actual identity of the reverend gentleman was a profound secret. He came and went without attracting any undue attention or provoking any impertinent inquiries.
A little before six o’clock the message came from Jessup. It was in cipher, and, being translated, read as follows:
“Haywood has received a summons. He is closeted in his private office. Let the revenue-cutter Porter be on hand.”