"All right, Abel, lad," he growled; "I won't leave you in the lurch. What's it mean--lock-up!" "Yes, my lad; charge of attempted murder and robbery," said the head constable. "Took all the skin off my hips and ribs," growled Bart, rubbing himself softly. "You'll have plenty of time to get well before your trial," said the constable, smiling. "Are you ready!" This last to Abel, who was gazing fiercely at his sister, who met his angry eyes with an imploring look. "And my own sister, too, Bart," he said, bitterly. "We fought for her, lad, and she gave information to the police." "No, no, no, Abel!" cried Mary, running to him to fling her arms about his neck; but he gave her a rough thrust which sent her staggering back, and her countenance changed on the instant for her eyes flashed vindictively, and she stood before him with folded arms. "Prisoner confessed in the presence of you all that he committed the act," said the constable; and his words were received with a mutter of assent in chorus. "Here, I'm ready," said Abel. "Come along, mate." "So'm I," growled Bart, laying a hand on Abel's shoulder. "I wouldn't ha' thought it on you, Mary, my lass," he said, and he gazed at her sadly as he shook his head. Mary made no reply, but stood with her arms folded across her breast and her brow wrinkled while the party moved out of the cottage; but the next instant the scene which followed made her rush outside and gaze wildly with eyes dilated and breast heaving, and her hands now clasped as she watched the chase. For as the little party stood outside, Bart still with his hand upon his companion's shoulder, Abel said quickly-- "The boat. Run!" Bart was, as a rule, rather slow of comprehension; but at that moment the same idea was filling his mind. That is to say, it was already charged, and Abel's words were as so many sparks struck from steel to fire that charge. Consequently, as the young fellow struck the constable to the left, Bart did the same to the right, and they dashed off as one man towards where, just round the western point of rock which helped to form the little bay, they knew that their boat was lying, swinging with the tide to a grapnel lying on the sands. As they dashed off, running swiftly over the hard sand, the head constable raised his old brass-mounted pistol and fired, when the shot might have been supposed to have struck Mary Dell, so sharp a start did she give as she clapped one hand to her side, and then peered at the rising smoke, and drew a long breath full of relief. For, as the smoke rose, she could see the fugitives still running, and that quite a cloud of sea-birds had risen from the mew-stone, a hundred yards from shore, to fly circling round, screaming querulously, as they slowly flapped their black-tipped wings.