Tregarthen’s plan was finally agreed to, and he returned to his men and explained matters.
Soon afterwards the managing director appeared coming down the road.
“Is all right?” he inquired of Cuttance, who went forward to meet him.
“All right, sur.”
“Go down to the boat then and wait,” he said, turning away.
Ere long he was joined by Rose, with whom he entered into conversation, leading her over the cape so as to get out of sight of the men, but young Tregarthen crept among the rocks and never for a moment lost sight of them. He saw Clearemout suddenly place a kerchief on Rose’s mouth, and, despite the poor girl’s struggles, tie it firmly so as to prevent her screaming, then he threw a large shawl over her, and catching her in his arms bore her swiftly towards the boat.
Tregarthen sprang up and confronted him.
Clearemout, astonished and maddened by this unexpected interference, shouted,—“Stand aside, sir! You have no interest in this matter, or right to interfere.”
Charlie made no reply, but sprang on him like a tiger. Clearemout dropped his burden and grappled with the youth, who threw him in an instant, big though he was, for Tregarthen was a practised wrestler, and the managing director was not. His great strength, however, enabled him to get on his knees, and there is no saying how the struggle might have terminated had not Cuttance come forward, and, putting his hard hands round Clearemout’s throat, caused that gentleman’s face to grow black, and his tongue and eyes to protrude. Having thus induced him to submit, he eased off the necklace, and assisted him to rise, while the men of both parties crowded round.
“Now, then, boys,” cried Jim Cuttance, “bear a hand, one and all, and into the say with him.”