Minnie did not require much pressing.  She had perfect confidence in her lover, and was naturally fearless in disposition, so she was soon placed on the subterranean beach of the Gaylet Cave, and for some time wandered about in the dimly-lighted place, leaning on Ruby’s arm.

Gradually their eyes became accustomed to the place, and then its mysterious beauty and wildness began to have full effect on their minds, inducing them to remain for a long time silent, as they sat side by side on a piece of fallen rock.

They sat looking in the direction of the seaward entrance to the cavern, where the light glowed brightly on the rocks, gradually losing its brilliancy as it penetrated the cave, until it became quite dim in the centre.  No part of the main cave was quite dark, but the offshoot, in which the lovers sat, was almost dark.  To anyone viewing it from the outer cave it would have appeared completely so.

“Is that a sea-gull at the outlet?” enquired Minnie, after a long pause.

Ruby looked intently for a moment in the direction indicated.

“Minnie,” he said quickly, and in a tone of surprise, “that is a large gull, if it be one at all, and uses oars instead of wings.  Who can it be?  Smugglers never come here that I am aware of, and Lindsay is not a likely man to waste his time in pulling about when he has other work to do.”

“Perhaps it may be some fishermen from Auchmithie,” suggested Minnie, “who are fond of exploring, like you and me.”

“Mayhap it is, but we shall soon see, for here they come.  We must keep out of sight, my girl.”

Ruby rose and led Minnie into the recesses of the cavern, where they were speedily shrouded in profound darkness, and could not be seen by anyone, although they themselves could observe all that occurred in the space in front of them.

The boat, which had entered the cavern by its seaward mouth, was a small one, manned by two fishermen, who were silent as they rowed under the arched roof; but it was evident that their silence did not proceed from caution, for they made no effort to prevent or check the noise of the oars.

In a few seconds the keel grated on the peebles, and one of the men leaped out.

“Noo, Davy,” he said, in a voice that sounded deep and hollow under that vaulted roof, “oot wi’ the kegs.  Haste ye, man.”

“Tis Big Swankie,” whispered Ruby.

“There’s nae hurry,” objected the other fisherman, who, we need scarcely inform the reader, was our friend, Davy Spink.

“Nae hurry!” repeated his comrade angrily.  “That’s aye yer cry.  Half ’o oor ventures hae failed because ye object to hurry.”

“Hoot, man! that’s enough o’t,” said Spink, in the nettled tone of a man who has been a good deal worried.  Indeed, the tones of both showed that these few sentences were but the continuation of a quarrel which had begun elsewhere.

“It’s plain to me that we must pairt, freen’,” said Swankie in a dogged manner, as he lifted a keg out of the boat and placed it on the ground.