"Worth waiting for," remarked Dick. "’Tis getting late, and Mother will have given me up, so we’ll go now. He’s big enough to give us two meals at least." They bent down to disengage the hook and wind up the line. So intent had they been on the capture of the bass that neither had noticed, until that moment, a smack about three-quarters of a mile out at sea, sailing rapidly across the bay towards St. Cuby’s Cove. The moon was rising, faintly illuminating the vessel, but casting a deep shadow on the water immediately beneath the cliff, so that the boys were invisible from the smack. Familiar as they were with all the small craft belonging to Polkerran, they knew at the first glance, in spite of the dim light, that the smack was a stranger. "She’s not Cornish," said Dick, taking a long look at her. "Nor even English," added Sam. "Maybe a Frenchman from Rusco, though ’tis early for the running to begin." "They won’t run a cargo at the Cove, surely. The path up the cliff is too steep, and Joe Penwarden’s cottage too near. I think she’s a stranger that doesn’t know the coast." They watched the smack until she rounded the headland between them and the Cove, and then began to row in the opposite direction. They had just reached the end of the promontory bounding Trevanion Bay on the north, and had swung round landward, when, their faces now being toward the open sea, they saw something that caused them to pause in mid-stroke. Perhaps a mile in the offing like a phantom barque in the quivering radiance of the moonlight, lay a large three-masted vessel with sails aback. Through the still air came the sound of creaking tackle, and the boys, resting on their oars, saw a boat lowered, and then another, which pulled off in the same direction as the smack. "This be some jiggery, Maister Dick," said Sam. "Do ’ee think, now, it be Boney come spying for a place to land?" Those were the days when the imminence of a French invasion kept the people of the southern counties in a constant state of alarm. "Boney wouldn’t come to this coast," replied Dick. "He wouldn’t risk his flat boats round the Lizard. No; he’ll make some lonely quiet spot on the south coast; Boney won’t trouble us." "Well, daze me if I can make head or tail o’t," said Sam. "Pull in a bit, so that we can see without being seen." From the shadowed headland they watched in silence. The boats had scarcely gone a third of a mile across the bay when a shrill whistle cleft the air. They at once put about, returned to the larger vessel, and were hoisted in, whereupon the ship made sail, and in the course of ten or fifteen minutes disappeared into the darkness. "There be queer things a-doing, I b’lieve," said Sam, while the vessel was still in sight. "Maybe," rejoined Dick, "but we don’t know. Don’t speak a word of it till I give you leave, Sam. ’Tis a matter for Mr. Mildmay if any one."