"Listen."
An Irish tramp steamer would be lying in Castletown Harbour on Sunday night. She would berth in front of the Castle, not more than fifteen yards from the gates. At eleven o'clock Stowell would open the Deemster's private door and bring Bessie out. Gell must be there to take her aboard. The tide being up, the vessel would sail immediately. She would sail north, past the Point of Ayre, to give the appearance of going to Scotland; but in the morning, when out of sight from the land, she would steer south and land her passengers at Queenstown. Atlantic liners called there twice a week and Gell and Bessie must take passages to New York. On reaching New York they must travel west—far west....
"But can it be done? Can you get Bessie out of the Castle?"
"I've counted every chance," said Stowell. "Whatever happens, I must not fail."
"What a good fellow...." began Gell, but Stowell dropped his head and hurried on with his story.
"I've given the Irish Captain a hundred pounds, and you are to give him another hundred when he puts you ashore at Queenstown. I'll find you the money."
"No, no! I've enough of my own—see," said Gell, and he showed the bundle of banknotes given to him by his father.
"Your father gave you that?"
"Yes, to pay my way to America."
Stowell's face glowed with a kind of superstitious rapture. More than ever now he was certain he was doing right, that the Divine powers were directing him. But all the same he kept up the cunning of the criminal.