ook, some of you."

The "flink" of a flint and steel was sufficient to show the position of
the hands on the broad face of the old-fashioned timepiece, and a voice
murmured, "Close on ten."

"Well, boys," began Rodwood, "the first question is, What's to be done
with the coach? We can't go to sea in her; and if we leave her here,
it's as good as giving the whole countryside information as to our
whereabouts."

For a moment there was a silence. A coach and four is not a thing that
can be hidden away in the nearest hedgerow, and hitherto the convicts
had regarded it merely as a means of escape. At length the man named
Nat, who had ridden inside as our guard, spoke up. He had struck me
all along as a reckless rascal, and his suggestion certainly confirmed
the opinion I had formed.

"Why not send her over the cliffs?" he asked. "No chance of her being
found then. I know this coast--a sheer drop into the water in most
places. The horses can be turned loose on the common, and I don't
suppose they'll be noticed for a day or so. Even when they are found,
no one can say very well where they come from."

This outrageous proposal seemed to appeal to the leader of the gang.

"Bravo!" he exclaimed. "Come on, my lads! Where's the 'free trader'?
He'll show the way."

The idea of the old _True Blue_ being wantonly hurled over the cliffs
into the sea was too much for poor George Woodley. He burst out into a
torrent of angry expostulations, but was promptly silenced by Rodwood,
who flourished a pistol in his face, at the same time bidding him hold
his tongue unless he wished to follow the coach on its last journey.

With Lewis and Rodwood in front, two men leading the horses, and the
rest of the party, George and myself included, following behind in a
sort of funeral procession, we went stumbling across the common. Once
I thought I heard Lewis expressing some dislike to the business in
hand, but his objections, if such they were, were speedily overridden.
Rodwood was beginning to feel his feet more as leader of the party, and
enforced obedience to his commands with a swagger and bluster which was
well calculated to win respect from his jail-bird following. The
murmur of the sea grew more and more distinct as we neared the dark
line of headlands; then, at length, the swaying coach came to a
standstill.

"Now, then, get their clothes off them!" ordered Rodwood.

The command had reference to the horses, from which th