"The harbor-master is to be decoyed away to the carol-singing and the hunting of the wren?" "Ay, Davy Cain and Tommy Tear are at that job." "And when is it high-water to-night?" "About eleven, but the Frenchman is meaning to run in at ten. I heard Bill say that, houldin' in his breath." "You're quite sure about Christian?" asked Mona again. "Aw yes, certain sure." "Then will you come back here to-night at six o'clock, Danny?" "Yes," said the lad, and he went out and down toward the shore. Mona hastened with all speed to the house of Kerruish Kinvig. There in breathless haste, but in the most logical sequence, she disclosed the whole infamous scheme which was afoot to wreck a merchantman that was expected to run into port on a smuggling adventure at ten o'clock that night. This was the plot as Mona presented it to Mr. Kinvig. The harbor-master's musical weakness was to be played upon, and he was to be got out of the way, two of Kisseck's gang remaining ashore for that purpose. At mid-day (that was to say in two hours) Kisseck and six men were to set out in the "Ben-my-Chree" on pretense of line-fishing. At nine that night they were to return. Kisseck himself and three others were to put ashore in the dingy on the west coast of the Castle Isle, and there lie in wait. The other two were to take the lugger round to harbor, and in doing so were to run down the temporary light put up on the ruined end of the pier. False lights were then to be put on the southwest of the castle, and when the merchantman came up to discharge her contraband goods, she was to run on the rocks and be wrecked.