"I'll bet a half-dollar dot they've choked der life oud off dot duke's son-off-a-gun," Fritz muttered, creeping under the cover of a dense tree. "I vonder off I proke any of his pones ven I lit on him. By shimminy! he must haff a gonstitution like a mule, or I'd 'a' smashed him all to sausage meat." Evidently something was to pay, for, except the sound of the storm and the dashing of the ocean against the bluff, all was quiet. The smugglers had either killed Grogan on the spot or taken him back into the house with them. And poor Hartly--what had become of him? That was the question which troubled Fritz far more than the fate of the lean man from Kilkenny. "He vas a gone-up goose now anyhow, und I don'd suppose id vil do some great deal off good to vorry apoud him, only I vish I could haff saved him," he mused. It was a wild night at the best, and Fritz heartily wished that he was back in Philadelphia, sitting in the old pawnbroker-shop, beside his girl, Rebecca. Still, he would not willingly have given up what he had learned in reference to the smugglers' league for a good deal, and he was resolved to hang to the matter attentively, until he should be able to trip and trap the rogues and break up their existence as an organization. Knowing of no other available shelter in the vicinity, he resolved to linger under the tree until the smugglers should leave the building, when he would once more take possession. The night was well advanced, however, when he heard them leave in a body, and start off down the lonely road. On first thought, he was tempted to follow them, but a cold blast of wind from off the ocean warned him that he was wet to the skin, and the best thing he could do would be to get under roof and dry off. He accordingly went back into the deserted house, and sat down in the lower hall. Though not cowardly, he had no desire to keep further company with the grinning skull of the late lamented Budge, whoever he may have been. Rolling up one end of the old carpet he converted it into a sort of pillow, and lay down, out of the draft. Sleep soon came to his relief, and he slept soundly until morning, when he was awakened by the sun shining in his face, through a rear hall window. Rising, he went out-of-doors to reconnoiter, and consider what was best to do next. It was a clear, glorious morning after the storm; the sun shone brightly, and a soft salt breeze blew off from the ocean, which was at once refreshing and invigorating. But it was not this sort of refreshment that Fritz now yearned for. He had had nothing to eat since the previous morning, and was decidedly hungry and faint. "Dose fellers don'd vas can live a good vays from here, vot I saw, last night," he mused, "but, ten to one uff I ask 'em for somedings to eat, dey bounce me oud." He advanced to the northern edge of the bluff, and took a look in that direction. To his surprise he saw, not more than a half mile away, a little village, nestling near the beach.