ainst the sky-line; then, with a subdued shout from
the men, it suddenly disappeared. A moment later, from far beneath
came a mighty crash of woodwork and the sharp tinkle of shivered glass.

George Woodley groaned, and ground his teeth with rage. But for the
fact that we were still chained together and I held him back, I believe
he would have rushed upon the gang and fought them with his bare hands.

"The murderous villains!" he muttered. "Fancy throwing a stage-coach
into the sea, as if it were nothing more than an old fish-basket!"

"Steady, George," I whispered. "Keep your mouth shut. We're in the
hands of these men, and they'll stop at nothing now to get their
liberty. Be thankful they didn't knock us on the head at the first, or
leave us tied to a tree to perish with the cold."

Once more the men instinctively formed a group round their leader, to
learn what should be done next.

"I expect they're all abed in the village by this time," said Lewis;
"still, there's nothing like making sure. There's a little place
hereabouts where the rest of you can lie snug while I go down and put
the oars in the boat, and see that all's quiet."

At the mention of the boat I pricked up my ears. Was it possible that
some smuggling lugger was then off the coast, and that the gang were
going straight on board? If so, what was to become of Woodley and
myself? Surely they would not want to carry us with them across to
France! In another hour, perhaps, we should regain our liberty.

A short distance away was a cavity in the ground--a sort of dried pit
surrounded and overhung by gorse bushes. Into this, by Lewis's
direction, we all crept, and lay or squatted in a huddled mass upon the
ground. It was bitterly cold; my teeth chattered, and I was glad
enough to creep close to George Woodley for the extra warmth. If
Rodwood had been allowed to carry out his intention of binding us to a
couple of trees in the lonely copse, the pair of us must certainly have
been frozen stiff by morning. I could only hope that the shelter of
the cottage and the warmth of the straw would preserve the warders and
Tom from a similar fate.

It still wanted more than an hour to midnight, yet it seemed as if the
darkness must have lasted a week, and I could hardly bring myself to
believe that it was but a few hours since I had left the shelter of the
Sportsman.

The convicts began to talk to each other in low tones, the chief topic
of convers