there was no going to bed for him that night.

He had been sleeping maybe for two hours, when a whistle fetched him to
his feet and out of the door like a scout. 'Twas nothing more nor less
than the boys' arrival signal, and this was what had happened.

When the preacher's first rocket went off, the collector, down on board
the cutter, was taking his bit of supper in the cabin. At the sound of
it he rushed up the companion, and found all his crew on deck with their
necks cricked back, barring one man, who that moment popped his head up
through the fore-hatchway. "What on earth was that?" he asked.
"A rocket, sir," said the chief boatman; "just sent up from Prussia
Cove." Mr. Wearne couldn't find his breath for a moment; but when he
did, 'twas to say, "Very well, John Carter. I've a-got you this time,
my dandy! I don't quite understand how you come to be such a fool.
But that rocket costs you a hundred pounds, and if I'm not mistaken I'll
have your cargo 'pon top of it."

The breeze still blew pretty steady, and he gave orders to stand out
into the bay, get an offing, and keep a sharp look-out as the moon rose.
He knew that all Carter's ordinary craft, except the sean-boat, were
quiet at anchor at Bessie's Cove; but he reckoned that the boat had gone
out this time to meet and unload a stranger. He never dreamed she would
be crossing all the way to Roscoff and back on her own account.
He knew, too, that Carter had a "spot" near Mousehole to fall back upon
when a landing at Prussia Cove couldn't be worked. So he stood out to
put the cutter on a line commanding both places, which, with the
soldier's wind then blowing, was easy enough; and as she pushed out her
nose past Cuddan Point the whole sky began to bang with rockets.

This puzzled him fairly, as Carter knew it would. And it puzzled the
Cove boys in the sean-boat as they lay on their oars about three miles
from shore and discussed the first warning. But in one of the flashes
Captain Harry Carter, who was commanding, spied the cutter's sails quite
plain under the dark of the land, plain enough to see that she was
running out free. He knew that he couldn't have been seen by her in the
heave of the swell, for the sean-boat lay pretty low with her heavy
cargo, and he'd given her a lick of grey paint at Roscoff by way of
extra precaution. So, thought he, "A signal's a signal; but brother
John doesn't know what I know. Let the cutter stand out as she's going,