As the skipper was about to leave, Trent drew Lawless aside.
"I'd keep an eye on that old buffer if I were you," he whispered. "Ten to one he'll try to creep out to-night and warn this same Mike Mahoney."
"Good idea," answered the Lieutenant, and turned to his visitor.
"I must ask you to hoist a riding-light when you get aboard your hooker, Mr. Rossan, and keep it burning all night," he said.
"To be sure if ye'r honour wishes it," replied the skipper, and then, after shaking hands with both officers, slipped into his dinghy alongside and pulled back to his smack.
As soon as he had gone Lawless gave orders that a constant watch was to be kept on the smack's riding-light throughout the night. If it was extinguished or was seen to move towards the harbour mouth the fact was to be reported to him immediately.
It was between three and four o'clock on the following morning when the Lieutenant was wakened from a sound sleep by Trent.
"Hullo, what's the row?" he asked, drowsily.
"That blessed smack has skedaddled during the night."
"What!" ejaculated the Lieutenant, now fully awake.