He questioned Guy closely, and was, in the end, perfectly assured there could be no mistake. The pirate chief himself had stolen away the dear one, and now had her shut up in the cavern of the Crag.
“Guy, do you know where that cave is?”
“I only know, sir, that it is just about half-way from the shore of the bay to the point where the head of the Crag shoots up steeply. I was never there. But Uncle Donald says there’ll be no use in your attemptin’ to get at ’em in there, for there’s a secret entrance which nobody can find only them as knows it. Uncle knows it, but he can’t tell it. Leastwise I don’t believe he’d want to break such an oath as he’d have to break if he did it. He says you’ll watch till they come out—the cap’n and the lady—and then, p’raps, you’ll be able to catch him. Oh, I hope you will!”
“You are sure Ralph Tryon will be in that cavern this forenoon?”
“Yes, sir. He’s there, now, somewhere. I should think, from what I’ve heard, that it was a big place with lots of odd nooks and corners in it. I heard old Ben Popwell say once, when he didn’t know ’at I was listenin’, ’at it would be a great place for blind-man’s buff.”
The startled, electrified youth waited for no more. He thanked the lad kindly, promising him that he should never seek his good offices in vain; then he said:
“Tell Uncle Donald that the rat is in more of a trap than he dreams of!” And with this he hurried away, keeping on to the village, as he had first intended; but with his purpose changed. His first call was on the chief constable, who there resided, named Allan Tisdale. He was a man of middle age; large and powerful of frame; bold and fearless in the line of his duty, yet kind, affable, and gentlemanly.
He had been intimate with our hero for a long time and esteemed him highly.
“Well, Maitland, have you anything new?”
The visitor was not a great while in telling him. He told all that he had learned from old Donald’s nephew.