"Why, what's that, your Honour?"
"Left a condemned prisoner without guard, or even without remembering to lock her up and carry away the keys"—and he threw the keys of the cell on the table.
"God bless me, yes! I never thought of that. But it was yourself that sent me out, and your Honour will not tell."
"Not I, old friend. But listen! Nobody in the island knows that I've been trying to get your prisoner's pardon, and now that it hasn't come, it's better that nobody should know. So you'll say nothing to anybody about my being here to-night?"
"Not a word, Sir. But you've done your best for the poor bogh, and it's Himself will reward you."
It was not until Stowell was outside the Castle that he reflected that whatever else happened in the morning the jailer must certainly fall into disgrace.
"I must find a way to make it up to him," he thought.
V
The quay was deserted and the berth of the tramp steamer in the harbour was an empty space, but in the fever of his impatience Stowell walked to the end of the pier to make sure that the ship had gone.
The fog had lifted a little by this time, the fog-horn was no longer blowing, and against the dark sea he could just make out the darker hull of the steamer leaving the bay. Farther away he saw the revolving light from Langness, which was shooting red vapour into the sky like breath from fiery nostrils. The night air was still cold, but his forehead was perspiring.