"The scheme is this," Granger said. "The letter will be delivered to Lady Barry by a sure hand when she comes out of church to-morrow. And you may be very confident she will lose no time. Be sure that she, with her companion--your beloved wife!--will hasten towards the point named, where the creek runs into the river. And the boat will be there to take them off, no matter how they resist." "One thing alone I fear," said Bufton. "Supposing that she, the mistress, proclaims her rank and position; declares that she is known to be his wife--is Lady Barry. Will the master not be afraid?" "Never. Not he! His sails will be bent, he will be ready to drop down the river at once. For," he added, "I have taken good care to warn him that, whatever protest may be made by the victim or victims--no heed shall be paid to it. No heed paid to any statement as to position or rank. The master is warned that they will be lies." "Good," chuckled Bufton. "Good. All lies. No heed will be paid to them." "None at all," Granger said, with emphasis. "They will be absolutely useless. Likewise it is a common thing for persons brought on board to make such protestations. Women often enough declare themselves to be people of position, ladies of rank, in the hopes of being released; and men call themselves gentlemen, noblemen. But never are such things of avail." "Good. Good," cried Bufton again, snapping his fingers in ecstasy. "Oh! good. So that there is no chance! No hope!" "None. Once on board that schooner there is no hope until America is reached. Instead, such despair that----" "That people sometimes throw themselves overboard," Bufton interrupted, rubbing his chin, and with a baleful look in his eyes. "Ay--'tis so. But," and now Granger's eyes seemed to pierce those of the other, "the master expects those fifty guineas we spoke of." "He shall have them," said Bufton. "Oh! he shall. Alas! poor Anne. I fear she will be driven to the despair you spoke of. Later, I shall assume mourning for her--when I have heard the news. 'Twill be but decorous perhaps." "I _know_ she will be so driven. Now, listen to what you have to do. It would be best that you keep here until to-morrow afternoon. Then, when dusk is coming, we will proceed towards the creek (pray Heaven the _Mignonne_ returns not first!), having taken care to have the letter delivered, and there we will await their coming. Once they arrive at the spot, 'tis done in a moment." "You are a marvellous man!" cried Bufton. "Oh! a marvellous one. We shall succeed. We shall. I know we shall." "We cannot fail. Now let us to bed. Tomorrow we have much to do."