Mark watched her, as one watches any object which relieves the dreariness of waiting, he gazed on her tall spars and white sails reflected in the sea, when suddenly a bright flash burst from her side, a light-blue smoke, followed by a booming sound, rolled forth, and a shot was seen skimming the surface of the water, for above a mile in her wake; the next moment a flag was run up to her peak, when it fluttered for a moment and was then lowered again. Mark's experience of a smuggling life taught him at once to recognize these signs as signals, and he turned his gaze towards the land to discover to whom they were made; but although for miles long the coast lay beneath his view, he could see nothing that corresponded with this suspicion. A single figure on horseback was all that he could detect, and he was too far off to observe minutely. Once more Mark turned towards the ship, which now was feeling a fresher breeze and beginning to bead beneath it. The white curl that broke from her bow, and rushed foaming along her sides, showed that she was making way through the water, not as it seemed without the will of those on board, for as the wind freshened they shook out their mainsail more fully, and continued at every moment to spread sail after sail. The hollow tramp of a horse's feet galloping on the strand made Mark turn quickly round, and he saw the rider, whom he had observed before, bending his course directly towards him. Supposing it must be Talbot, Mark turned to meet him, and the horseman, who never slackened his speed, came quickly within view, and discovered the features of Frederick Travers. He was unaccompanied by friend or servant, and seemed, from the condition of his horse, to have ridden at the top of his speed. Before Mark could think of what apology he should make for, or how explain Talbot's absence, Travers addressed him---- “I half feared that it might not be you, Mr. O'Donoghue,” said he, as he wiped the perspiration from his brow, for he seemed no less exhausted than his horse. “I'm alone, sir,” said Mark; “and were you not unaccompanied by a friend, I should feel the difficulty of my present position more severely.” “I know--I am aware,” said Travers, hurriedly, “your friend is gone. I heard it but an hour since; you, in all likelihood, were not aware of the fact, till you saw the signal yonder.” “What!--Talbot's signal! Was that his?” “Talbot, or Barrington,” said Travers, smiling; “perhaps we should better call him by the name he is best known by.” “And do you concur in the silly notion that confounds Harry Talbot with a highwayman?” said Mark, sternly.