Though he had been missed since the regular ball had disappeared, yet every one had supposed him among the crowd somewhere. Now calls for the captain were on all sides, but he was not present. The majority, believing that he was out, but would be in shortly, kept up the feasting, singing, and speaking. Dick, after an inquiry here and there, went out and disappeared in the night. CHAPTER XVII PRUSSIA COVE. THE SMUGGLERS' BATTLE "Seventy years since, a native of Breage called 'Carter,' but better known, from a most remarkable personal resemblance to Frederick the Great, as the 'King of Prussia,' monopolised most of the smuggling trade of the west. He chose as the seat of his business a rocky cove two miles east of Marazion, which continues to bear the name of Prussia Cove."--_Robert Hunt, F. R. S._ Where was the captain of the Helston hurlers? The last time he was seen was on the cliff when the prize hurling ball disappeared. He had disengaged himself from the tumbling contestants when the ball escaped from the hand of the prostrate player, and saw it roll swiftly into a neighbouring ravine that led downward, like a funnel, to the sands below. Like a meteor he was after it and was out of view before any of his fellows noticed his absence. Down the narrow pathway he plunged with reckless steps, intent only on possessing the ball and had just grasped it, when crash! a part of the footpath gave way and down, down, down, he slipped, faster and faster. He saw the ground and pebbles fly past him upward as if endued with the power of ærial flight. He grasped futilely at the flying shrubs and boulders and then came the sickening sense of flying out into space over the cliff edge. Then there was a shock, a sharp pain and,--all was a blank. When he returned to consciousness, he was on a cot with a rough, kindly face bending over him. "Drink, m'lad, it'll do 'ee good. Clunk un all down." He felt something at his lips and mechanically swallowed it. The liquor, or whatever it was, revived him in a short time and he sat up. "Where am I? Am I hurt?" He slowly placed his hand to his head and felt a bandage around it. "Ah, I remember now. I fell in the hurling game, but I still have the ball." Ande gazed around and found himself in what appeared an ordinary fisherman's cabin, rough and uncouth, but still comfortable. Fishing tackle hung here and there and there was an odd, fishy smell. A few cheap prints hung on the wall and there was a window through which a glimpse of the sea was visible. "Why, bless 'ee, young sir, I thought 'ee would never come round, so Ah did; Ah was holding my breath to see whether 'ee was mazed by the fall or 'ad come round, and I'm glad 'tez the latter. But, bless 'ee, what a fall! Damme, it was worse than a blow of a cutlass."