"Ay, lad; but to think of her putting them on to us! It don't seem like she." "Curse them!" cried Abel, as he reached the other side of the point, and saw that which his sister had seen from the cliff behind the cottage. "What for now?" said Bart, stolidly, as he reached his companion's side. "Hum, that's it, is it?" He looked round him for a fresh way of escape. There was the sea, if they liked to leap in and swim; but they could be easily overtaken. The rocks above them were too overhanging to climb, and there was no other way, unless they returned, and tried to rush through their pursuers; for beyond the point the tide beat upon the cliff. "No good, Bart; we're trapped," said Abel, stolidly. "I'll never forgive her--never!" "Yes, you will," said Bart, sitting down on a rock, and carefully taking off his fur cap to wipe his heated brow. "You will some day. Why, I could forgive her anything--I could. She's a wonderful gell; but, I say, my hips is werry sore." He sat staring down at the boat beyond the point, the anchor having been taken on board, and the oars being out to keep her off the rocks, as she rose and fell with the coming tide. "No!" said Abel, bitterly. "I'll never forgive her--never!" "Nay, lad, don't say that," said Bart, rubbing one side. "Hey, lass! There she is. Top o' the cliff. Look at her, mate." "No," said Abel; "let her look--at her cowardly work." "Now, then!" shouted the head constable, as he came panting up. "Is it surrender, or fight?" For answer, Abel climbed slowly down to the sands, followed by Bart; and the next minute they were surrounded, and stood with gyves upon their wrists. "Warm work," said the constable, cheerfully; "but we've got you safe now." "Ay, you've got us safe," growled Bart; "but it wouldn't ha' been easy if Abel here had showed fight." "Been no use," said the constable. "I said to Billy Niggs here: `Niggs,' I said, `them two'll make for their boat, and get away.' `Ay, zhure, that they 'ool,' he said. Didn't you, Billy?" "Ay, zhure, sir, that's just what I did say," cried a constable, with a face like a fox-whelp cyder apple. "So I sent on two men to be ready in the boat. Come on, my lads." The boat was pulled ashore. The two constables in charge leaped out with the grapnel, and dropped it on the sand; and then in silence the party with their prisoners walked slowly back, and beneath the spot where Mary stood like a figure carved out of the rock, far above their heads, till they had gone out of sight, without once looking up or making a sign. Then the poor girl sank down in the rocky niche where she had climbed first, and burst into an agonised fit of weeping.