With one accord we hurried down the rocks as fast as the irregular crags over which we had to scramble would permit. As we descended, a fearful scream of anguish met our ears, after which we heard no more. All but the raging of the storm then died away, and by the time that we reached the bottom of the cliff no sound of human woe mingled in the gale.
A poor fisherman and his family lived at a little distance in a cavity amongst the rocks, and thither we next directed our steps. I was the first to gain this miserable hut, the door of which I found wide open, swinging to and fro on its crazy hinges. We called aloud to Kelly, his wife, and sons, but received no answer. M'Farlane, the old Scotchman, proposed that we should go farther down along the shore to a little creek, in which Kelly's boat was usually moored. When arrived at the spot, there was no boat there. We hallooed again, but in vain; no living being seemed within hearing; all was silent save the winds and waves. As the tide was rapidly retiring we groped along the sands, holding the lanthorn close to the ground, and searching, as carefully as its uncertain glimmer would allow, for any vestige of the wreck, which we concluded that day-light would but too fully exhibit.
While thus employed, Harold's foot struck against something soft which, on examination, proved to be a small spaniel with a collar round its neck. The poor animal was quite dead, and holding it up to the light, we read the name of Henry Talbot. The shock of this discovery was indescribable. A thousand vague, yet terrible surmises rushed upon my imagination, and before we were able to retrace our path to Kelly's hut, where we determined to wait the break of day, an oar over which I stumbled, and which we found branded at one end with the letters D. K. afforded awful conviction that a dreadful catastrophe had involved the unfortunate fisherman, and perhaps others, in a watery grave.
We took up the oar on our shoulders, and on reaching Kelly's cabin, which had been empty when we first visited it, we were not a little surprised to find his wife lying flat without signs of life upon the clay floor. We raised her, and perceiving that she was not dead, placed her gently on the wretched trestle, which, covered with straw, and a blanket, served for a bed in this lowly habitation; and taking the candle from our lanthorn lighted a few dry sticks which were piled in a corner. We then removed poor Norah to the fire, took off her old water-soaked cloak, and began to rub her hands and feet with all our strength. We discovered a bundle of rushes too, which having been dipped in grease, serve the poor Irish in place of candles, and were glad to avail ourselves of their feeble aid, not only for presenting some sort of beacon to any vessel which might be nearing the rocks, but also to assist our search for any thing with which to moisten the lips of the dying woman.
At length I discovered a bottle which held a remainder drop of whisky, and seizing on this treasure, we hastened to try its life-restoring powers on our patient. While my brothers and I were thus busily occupied, M'Farlane drew from the corner cupboard, in which I had found the bottle, a small bit of soiled paper folded up, on which, when opened, the following words appeared written in printing characters, apparently for the purpose of disguising the hand that traced them.
"Be sure not to fail us. You know the place, and the hour. A vessel will lie to, off the Bay. Let nothing tempt you to betray him. A better reward than money will crown fidelity. Finish the good work which you have begun. I depend also on Norah and the boys. If we succeed in getting him safely out of the country, all will be well. She will see him on board, which I am sorry for, as the weather is unpromising. We must land at the Black Point, after doing our job. This goes by a sure hand. Be prepared early; read, and burn.
"Yours, truly ——"
"Hah, hah!" cried M'Farlane. "I see plainly enough now how it is. Here is a plot, and the plotters are taken in their own snare. A heavy judgment from Heaven is come upon them."
I sprang towards him, and snatched the paper from his hand, anxious to prevent him from getting hold of information not intended for him; but he had read all the contents; and though there was neither name nor date to apprise us of the actors, it was plain enough that Kelly and his sons had been employed with their boat to convey some mysterious personage from the coast; while it was equally manifest that the writer of the billet, whoever he might be, and the female to whom he alluded, designed to return, after executing their trust, and placing their charge securely on board a vessel ready to steer, in all probability, for France or America.