I could not tell whether Kinlay had carried on his illicit traffic whilst my father was alive, but I guessed that this was so; and believing that my father was the only man who knew his secret, I saw reason sufficient for enmity. My father's death had removed the one great obstacle in the way of Carver's carrying on the smuggling unsuspected. It had also enabled him to become a pilot--a position which gave unusual opportunity to a man so unscrupulous. As pilot he was able to board any vessel that entered the Orcadian waters, and in the case of ships which came over from the Continent or from the north of Scotland with contraband goods, a transfer of cargo could be boldly effected without exciting suspicion. And here in the cave I saw before me a part of the smuggler's store. Having explored the cavern by the light of my lantern, I was forced to believe that Thora was not there. I returned once more to the kegs of spirits before departing. Tom was still sound asleep. Approaching him, I turned the light upon him and knelt down, shielding the light from his closed eyes. Suddenly I was alarmed by hearing the noise of voices at the outer part of the cave--the voices of many men. I blew out the light of my lantern, rose to my feet, and slipped into the shadow to watch, for I did not doubt that these were the smugglers. I had not stood there very long before I observed a flickering of lights, and the sound of men's feet and voices came nearer and nearer. Then I saw the lights of two lanterns, and distinguished the figures of five men. Their sea jackets were powdered with snow. "Now, lads," said a hoarse voice that I recognized as Carver Kinlay's, "look smart. Get as many as ye can into the boat, then roll the others into the water." His eyes rested upon the sleeping form of his son. "Hullo!" he cried, "why, here is the young devil after all!" Then, crossing the plank bridge, he gave Tom a heavy kick in the ribs, and placed his lantern on the top of one of the casks. Tom awoke with a start, and I saw him tremble as in fear. His face was ghastly white. "Where have ye been all night?" growled his father, without waiting for an answer; "hurry along here and help to get these kegs into the boat." Young Kinlay rose and staggered after the men. Evidently he had broached one of the whisky kegs. I drew closer within the shadow of the rock and watched the proceedings. The smugglers carried away one by one as many of the spirit kegs as I believed might lie in the bottom of the St. Magnus. This was done in a great hurry as though much depended upon getting the things cleared away, and Carver was for ever urging his men to "hurry up!" Then they all set to work, and rolled what remained of the casks into the stream, until, after about an hour's time, there was left no trace of the smuggler's store, excepting only the square box that Tom had slept upon.