“Boats nearly surprised!—­you don’t say so,” replied Cornbury, with affected astonishment.  “This must indeed be looked to.  Have you no idea—­”

“None,” replied Nancy.  “There was no vessel to be seen the next morning—­the fog was too thick.  Have you seen Wahop?”

“No; I thought he was on the Isle.”

“He ought to have been, but has not come; I have been at the oak-tree for three nights running.  It’s very strange.  Do you think that he can have played false?”

“I never much liked the man,” replied Cornbury.

“Nor I either,” replied Nancy; “but I must go now, for I must be back at the crags before daylight.  Find out what you can, and let us know as soon as possible.  I shall be over again as soon as the cargo is run; if you find out anything, you had better come to-morrow night.”

“I will,” replied Cornbury; and the parties separated.

“Traitor,” muttered Nancy, when she was once more alone.  “If he comes, it shall be to his death;” and Nancy stooped down, picked up the pieces of paper which Cornbury had torn up, and put them in the basket she carried on her arm.

It will be observed that Nancy had purposely thrown out hints against Wahop, to induce Cornbury to believe that he was not suspected.  Her assertion that Wahop was not on the island was false.  He had been three days at Ryde, according to the arrangement.  The bait took.  Cornbury perceiving that the suspicion was against Wahop, thought that he could not do better than to boldly make his appearance at the cave, which would remove any doubts as to his own fidelity.

Nancy hastened down to the Point, and returned that night to Ryde, from whence she walked over to the cave, and was there before daylight.  She communicated to Alice the intelligence which she had received from Moggy Salisbury, and the arrangements she had proposed to her, by which the motions of the cutter could be known.

“Is that woman to be trusted, think you, Nancy?” inquired Alice.

“Yes, I believe sincerely she may be.  I have known her long; and she wishes her husband to join us.”

“We must reflect upon it.  She may be most useful.  What is the character of the officer who commands the vessel?”

“A miser, and a coward.  He is well known—­neither honour nor conscience in him.”

“The first is well, as we may act upon it, but the second renders him doubtful.  You are tired, Nancy, and had better lie down a little.”

Nancy Corbett delivered the pens to Lilly, and then took the advice of her superior.  The day was remarkably fine, and the water smooth, so that the boats were expected that night.  At dusk two small lights, at even distances, were suspended from the cliff, to point out to the boats that the coast was free, and that they might land.  Alice, however, took the precaution to have a watch on the beach, in case of any second surprise being attempted; but