kered
upon a pile of kegs and bales lying half-concealed behind a corner of
rock.

'Smugglers!' declared Marjorie.

'Looks like it,' said Allan, as Hamish struck fresh matches and the
others crowded round, giving utterance to ohs! and ahs! of excitement.

'They're at their old trade again,' said Allan, examining the barrels;
'I wonder what Pater will say to this?'

'That's the last match, Allan,' said Hamish, as the light flickered out.

The darkness seemed to come down like a weight, and the young people
found themselves groping for each other's hands.

'We had better make the best of our way out of this,' said Allan. 'Try
to move quietly, for we don't know who might be about. Help Tricksy,
Hamish; I think she's by you, and here, Tricksy, give me your other
hand.'

They groped their way towards the entrance, and soon were in the strong
sunshine at the mouth of the caves.

'Well,' said Allan, 'that was an adventure;' and they looked at one
another with varying expressions.

'Do you think they may have had anything to do with the robbery?' said
Marjorie.

'Shouldn't wonder,' replied Allan. 'Anyhow, we'll see what Pater says.'

'In the meanwhile,' said Marjorie, 'we had better be quick; the
breakers are close under the rocks, and we're almost cut off already.'

A stream of foaming, angry-looking water was running up into a hollow
on the shore, and the young folk could only escape by jumping on to a
stone in the middle of the flood, and from thence to the other side.

'Jump, Tricksy,' cried Reggie half impatiently, as his little sister
hesitated.

Tricksy, who was pale and overwrought, sprang, but fell short and
plunged overhead in the water.

Instantly two or three were in the flood, trying to prevent her being
swept out to sea.

Allan secured her; and gasping, struggling, with water running over her
face, Tricksy was pulled on to dry land.

'It isn't so very bad, is it, Tricksy?' inquired Reggie, in a tone of
somewhat forced cheerfulness; 'what a thing to do, to jump in when
you're told to jump over!'

Tricksy tried to smile; a miserable attempt, for her teeth chattered
and her lips were blue with the cold.

'Run to Rob MacLean's cottage, Reggie,' said Hamish, throwing off his
coat and wrapping it round Tricksy; 'ask him to lend us his pony, and
we'll take Tricksy to Corranmore; it's nearer than your house.'

With Hamish running by her side and holding her on to the pony, Tricksy
was not lon