the snow did not lie. He passed the great boulder which
had fallen with Frank Kennedy. It was now all overgrown with mussels and
seaweed. The mouth of the cave opened black and dismal before him.
Glossin drew breath before entering such a haunt of iniquity, and
recharged his pistols. He was, however, somewhat heartened by the
thought that Dirk Hatteraick had nothing to gain by his death. Finally
he took courage to push forward, and immediately the voice of Hatteraick
came hoarse from the back of the cave.

"Donner and hagel! Be'st du?" he growled.

"Are you in the dark?" said Glossin, soothingly.

"Dark? Der deyvel, ay!" retorted Hatteraick, "where should I get a glim?
I am near frozen also! Snow-water and hagel--I could only keep myself
warm by tramping up and down this vault and thinking on the merry rouses
we used to have here!"

Glossin made a light, and having set down the little lantern which he
carried, he gathered together some barrel-staves and driftwood. The
flame showed Hatteraick's fierce and bronzed visage as he warmed his
sinewy hands at the blaze. He sat with his face thrust forward and
actually in the smoke itself, so great had been his agony of cold. When
he was a little warmed up, Glossin gave him some cold meat and a flask
of strong spirits. Hatteraick eagerly seized upon these, exclaiming,
after a long draught, "Ah, that is good--that warms the liver!"

After the liquor and the food had put the smuggler into a somewhat
better temper, the two associates settled themselves to discuss the
project which had brought Glossin to the Cave of the Warroch Point.

Up to the present, Glossin had believed that the Vanbeest Brown who had
wounded young Hazlewood was the mate of the smuggling lugger. But now,
hearing that this Brown had been shot on the night of the Woodbourne
attack, all at once a light broke upon him. The assailant could be no
other than the rightful heir of Ellangowan, Harry Bertram.

"If he is on this coast," he meditated, half to himself, "I can have him
arrested as the leader of the attack upon Woodbourne, and also for an
assault upon Charles Hazlewood!"

"But," said Dirk Hatteraick, grimly, "he will be loose again upon you,
as soon as he can show himself to carry other colours!"

"True, friend Hatteraick," said Glossin; "still, till that is proved, I
can imprison him in the custom-house of Portanferry, where your goods
are also stowed. You and your crew can attack the custom-house,