Just then there was a dull thud, as if a ma.s.s of water had struck the side, and the vessel heeled over more than ever, righted herself, and then rose and rode over a wave, plunging down and again gliding along upon a level keel. "Eat, eat, _mes amis_," said the captain. "You do not mean that you have _le mal-de-mer_?"

"Oh no," said Vince quickly, as if ashamed to be suspected of such a weakness. "We don't mind the sea; besides, it isn't rough. We're not going over a bar of sand?"

"_Non_: a bar of rocks, vere Joseph can take us safely. Anozaire man?

_Non, non_."

They could not grasp much, as the dinner drew now to an end, and no doubt their imaginations played them false to a great extent; but they thoroughly realised that for a few minutes the great lugger was being slowly navigated through a most intricate channel, where the current ran furiously; after that more sail was made, and the regular motion of the vessel told them that they were getting out into the open sea.

All at once the door was opened, and old Daygo appeared.

"Aha! you are finish, _mon ami_?"

Daygo nodded his head and uttered a low grunt.

"Good. I come on deck."

Old Joe turned and went up the ladder, followed by the captain; and then Mike dashed after them.

"What are you going to do?" cried Vince. But Mike made no reply; and the other followed on deck, anxious to see what was going to take place, for that Mike had some project was very evident.

As Vince reached the deck he saw that Mike was at the leeward side, where a couple of men stood by the rope which held the pilot's boat, while the captain and the old fisherman were walking right forward, talking earnestly. The lugger was sailing gently along half a mile from the sh.o.r.e in the direction of the south point; and Vince's heart leaped and then sank as he faintly made out one of the familiar landmarks on the highest part of the island, but he had no time for indulging in emotion just then, for the captain turned suddenly and old Joe made for his boat.

"Mike isn't going to jump in and try to go with him, is he?" thought Vince; and a pang shot through him at the very thought of such a cowardly desertion. "No," he added to himself; "he wouldn't do that."

Vince was right, for all he did was to rush at Daygo, catch him by the shoulder and whisper something.

The old fisherman turned, stared, and Mike repeated as far as Vince could make out his former question, while the captain stood a little way back and looked on.

Just then Daygo growled out "No!" angrily, and thrust Mike away so roughly that the boy staggered back and nearly fell; but before the old man could reach the bulwark, Mike had recovered himself, leaped at him, and delivered such a kick, that the pilot plunged forward half over the bulwark, and then turned savagely to take revenge upon his a.s.sailant.

But the captain had advanced, and he said something sharply, which made Daygo hurry over the bulwark and drop down into his boat. One of the men cast off the rope and threw it after him, and the next moment she was astern, with the old man standing upright, his hands to each side of his mouth; and he bellowed out,--

"Yah! Good luck to you both! You'll never see this Crag agen."

Then the darkness began to swallow up his small boat, and the great three-masted lugger glided onward--where?

Mike turned sharply, expecting to be seized by the captain; but the latter had his back to him, and went forward to give orders for another sail to be hoisted, while the boys went involuntarily to the side to gaze at the Crag.

"What was it you asked Joe?" said Vince.

"Not what you thought," replied Mike rather bitterly.

"Why, what did I think?"

"That I was begging him to take me in the boat."

"No, I didn't," said Vince sharply. "I thought at first that you'd run up to jump in, but directly after I said to myself that you wouldn't be such a sneak. What did you say to him?"

"I told him my father would give him a hundred pounds, and that he should never say anything to Joe, if he'd go and tell them directly where we are."

"And he wouldn't. Well, I'm glad you kicked him, for shoving you away like that."

"I should be," replied Mike, "if he wasn't such an old man."

"He isn't an old man," said Vince hotly: "he's an old wretch, without a bit of manliness in him."

"All right, then; I'm glad I kicked him. But never mind Joe Daygo, Vince. It's getting darker, and the old Crag is seeming to die away.

Oh, Cinder, old chap, is it all true? Are we being taken away like this?"

Vince could not trust himself to speak, but leaned over the bulwark, resting his chin upon his thumbs, and shading the sides of his face-- partly to conceal its workings, which was not necessary in the darkness, partly to shut off the side-light and see the island more easily.

And neither was this necessary, for there were no sidelights, and the Crag was now so dim that had he not known it was there it would have been invisible; but he preserved it all mentally, and thought of the pleasant home, with the saddened faces there, of the happy days he had spent, and now for the first time fully realised what a joyous boyhood he had pa.s.sed in the rocky wildly picturesque old place, with no greater trouble to disturb his peaceful life than some puzzling problem or a trivial fit of illness. All so bright, so joyous, so happy,--and now gone, perhaps, for ever; and some strange, wild life to come, but what kind of existence he could not grasp.

Naturally enough, Mike's thoughts ran in the same channel, but he gave them utterance; and Vince, as he stood there, heard him saying piteously,--

"Good-bye, dear old home! I never knew before what you really were.

Good-bye--good-bye!" And then, pa.s.sionately--"Oh, Vince, Vince! what have we done to deserve all this? Where are we going now?"

"To bed, _mes amis_," said the captain, slapping them both on the shoulders and rudely interrupting their thoughts. "Come: I take you myself. Not over ze powdaire now. I vill not tempt you to _faire sauter_--make jump ze _cha.s.se-maree_--blow up ze sheep, eh? My faith, no! But you take ze good counsel, _mes_ boys. You go to your bunk like ze good shile, and have long sleep. You get out of the deadlight vis ze sheep in full sail. You go ovaire-board bose of you, and I am vair sorry for ze _bonnes_ mammas."

"Doesn't seem like it," said Vince stoutly, "taking us off prisoners like this."

"Prisonaires! Faith of a good man! You sink I treat you like prisonaires, and have you to dinnaire and talk to you vis _bonnes conseilles_ like ze papa?"

"You are taking us away, and making every one who cares for us think we are dead."

"_C'est dommage_--it is a great pitee, my young friend; but, you see, I have a large propertee at ze caverne. It is vort tousand of pounds, and ze place is vair useful to me and ze _confrere_ who come to take it somevere else."

"What, are there more of you?" blurted out Vince.

"Eh? You nevaire mind. But I cannot part vis my store, and I vant ze place to go to ven I bring a cargo."

"But we'll promise you on our words that we will not betray it to any one, if you set us ash.o.r.e."

"Aha! Not to have anozaire kick at _notre bon_ Joseph, eh?"

"No, not even to serve Joe Daygo out," said Vince. "An old wretch! But he deserves it."

"And faith of a gentlemans, on your word of _honneur_, you vould not tell vere ze contraband is kept?"

"On our honour, as gentlemen, we would not: would we, Mike?"

"No," was the eager reply.

"I believe you bose," said the captain. "But you could not keep your vort. It is impossible."

"But we would," said Vince.

"You vould try, _mon garcon_, but you vould be _oblige_ to tell.