"Why, didn’t you tell me months ago to keep an eye on Fronsac? Well, I’ve done it. I’ve followed him several nights—not often, ’cos mostly I’m sleepy; but I’ve never caught him. He always disappeared, and I never knew where he went till to-night. And I shouldn’t have known now if I hadn’t seen him climb down the Folly and go off with old Gumley. Oh, it was fine! My eye! wasn’t he scared at the dog! But what’s it all mean, Jack? I say, you’ll come along home, won’t you? They’ll all be so jolly glad to see you." "Not to-night, Arthur. I hope I shall come to see you all in a day or two. But not a soul in the village must know yet that I’m back, and the maids couldn’t keep it in. Tell your father I’m here; and tell him that De Fronsac is a dangerous spy. We’ve got him safe now, but they mustn’t suspect in the village. If any questions are asked you can say that he has gone away for a few days, and will be back on Monday night." "Oh, I say, will they hang him?" "Of course. Now cut and run; you’ll catch your death of cold, and the squire will want to hang me." "Not he. He likes you. So does—" "Cut!" said Jack, putting an end to Arthur’s confidences. The boy disappeared; Jack resumed his walk, and arrived dead tired at the inn at Middleton. *CHAPTER XVIII* *THE BATTLE OF BINSEY COVE* "Ah! Patience is a monument, as brother Sol used to say. Tombstone I’d call it, ’cos this here waiting about in the cold’ll be the death o’ me." "True, Mr. Babbage. It bean’t Christian, let alone decent, to keep us poor fellers waiting here." "Avast your jabber, Mudge. It bean’t for the likes of you to grumble when ’tis a matter o’ dooty, and love your neighbor as yourself. ’Tis a wonderful fine night, coldish, nat’ral for the time o’ year. Mr. Hardy didn’t make the weather, lads." Ben Babbage, with a boat’s crew from the _Fury_, lay off Totley Point, about a mile and a half west of Luscombe. It was about ten at night. They had been for two hours resting on their oars. A steady breeze blew from the west-sou’west, and a slight swell rocked the boat gently. Save for an occasional pull to keep her head to the wind the men had nothing to do except wait and watch; and Babbage, however he might grumble himself, was the last to permit grumbling in others. But it was certainly a tax on their patience to wait hour after hour for a lugger which was slow to appear. Everybody was tired of inaction, and hoping for a signal of recall, when a shape loomed out of the blackness, passed on the starboard side of the boat, about two cable lengths away, and disappeared shoreward.