"Father--mother--brother--all gone! Lover false! Alone--alone--alone!" she sobbed. "What have I done to deserve it all? Nothing!" she cried, fiercely, as she sprang to her feet and turned and shook her clenched fists landward. "Nothing but love a cold, cruel wretch. Yes, love; and now--oh, how I hate him--and all the world!" She sank down again in the niche all of a heap, and sat there with the sun slowly sinking lower, and the sea-birds wheeling round and round above her head, and watching her with inquisitive eyes, as they each now and then uttered a mournful wail, which sounded sympathetic though probably it was the gullish expression of wonder whether the crouching object was good to eat. And there she sat, hour after hour, till it was quite dark, when she began slowly to descend, asking herself what she should do to save her brother and his friend, both under a misconception, but suffering for her sake. "And I stay here!" she said, passionately. "Let them think what they will, I'll try and save them, for they must be a prison now." Mary was quite right; for as night fell Abel Dell and Bart his companion were partaking of a very frugal meal, and made uncomfortable by the fact that it was not good, and that they--men free to come and go on sea and land--were now safely caged behind a massive iron grill. "Well," said Bart at last, "I'm only sorry for one thing now." "What's that--Mary being so base?" "Nay, I'm sorry for that," replied Bart; "but what I meant was that I didn't give the captain one hard un on the head." CHAPTER SEVEN. GATHERING CLOUDS. In spite of the declaration made by Captain Armstrong that he had identified his assailants by the heights, voices, and--dark as was the night--their features, Abel refused to be convinced. He had taken it into his head that Mary had denounced them to her former lover, and at each examination before the Old Devon magistrates he had sullenly turned away from the poor girl, who sat gazing imploringly at the dock, and hungering for a look in return. The captain was not much hurt; that is to say, no bones were broken. Pain he had suffered to a little extent, for there was an ugly slit in one ear, but he was not in such a condition as to necessitate his limping into court, supported by a couple of servants, and generally "got up" to look like one who had been nearly beaten to death. All this told against Abel and Bart, as well as the fact that the captain was of good birth, and one who had lately formed an alliance with a famous old county family. In addition, the prisoners were known to the bench. Both Abel and Bart had been in trouble before, and black marks were against them for wrecking and smuggling. They were no worse than their neighbours, but the law insists upon having scarecrows, and the constables did not hesitate to make every effort to hang the son of a notorious old wrecker and his boon companion.