would escape from them that
night.

"I've got the tinder and the flint and steel," remarked Israel, "we must
git to a lew plaace an' light the candle. Come over 'ere. Ther's a
'ollow behind the rocks, it'll do zackly."

I followed him without a word until we reached a spot that was sheltered
from the sea, although we could still hear the waves surging and
moaning, while flecks of foam often beat upon our faces.

Perhaps there is no more lonely place on God's earth than this. That
night the genius of desolation seemed to reign, while the roaring sea
told me of mad spirits playing with the angry waters. In the dim light I
could see the long line of foam, while above the dark cliffs loomed;
landward nothing was visible, save a suggestion of the outline of the
hills.

"'Tes a gashly night and this es a gashly job to be done," said Israel.
"By agor, 'ow the waaves do roar," he continued, after a minute.

"Yes, 'tis a wild night," I responded, and as if in confirmation of my
words, a great wave broke on Bumble Rock with a mighty roar, while a
shower of spray and flecks of foam fell upon us.

"Well, 'tes as lew 'ere as we can git it anywhere," he said; "ther now,
you hould the lantern while I strick the light."

"No," I replied.

"Wot do 'ee main?" he queried.

"Simply this," I answered; "no false light shall shine on this cliff
to-night." As I spoke I took the lantern and threw it over the cliffs.
Then I sprang upon him and caught his hands in mine.

"Look you, Israel Barnicoat," I said, "I know what your plans are. I
followed you as you went to the Preventive man to-night; but it is no
use. The wreckers' light will not shine to-night, neither will I be off
The Stags at twelve o'clock."

He struggled to be free, but I held him tight.

"You'll suffer for this," he screamed; "when Cap'n Jack knaws you'll
die."

"I must take chance of that," I said. Then I threw him heavily on the
sward. Taking some cord from my pocket, with which I had provided myself
before starting, I bound his hands securely behind him. Then I bound his
legs.

"Wot be 'ee goin' to do weth me now?" he shrieked.

"Nothing more."

"But you bean't goin' to laive me lie 'ere oal night, be 'ee? Why, I
sh'll die ov the cowld."

"No, you won't," I said; "as you mentioned, this is a lew place, and you
are not one who will die so easily. You may be a bit cramped by the
morning, and perhaps you may get a twinge of rheumatics, but that'll be
all.