A fierce oath burst from the smuggler’s lips, and he was evidently upon the point of launching forth into threats, but common sense came to his aid. He was situated peculiarly. The brig must be brought safely into her haven, for she had beneath her hatches one of the most valuable cargoes she had ever carried and he could not do it without making a change in his plans which he would not make if he could possibly avoid it. “Bah!” he exclaimed, when he saw the other backing away from the oath which he had, in his hot anger, flung at him, “don’t be a fool. Allow a man to spit out his feelings when he’s in a tight place, can’t ye? I didn’t mean that oath for you, Percy. I was swearing at my own hard luck. Look ye, it will be a dead loss to me of more than £500 if I can’t be in Bathgate to-morrow. The brig will be outside in the early morning, and the chances are that a king’s ship--sloop of war--will be at her heels. If it was to be a flood tide we might trust Rodney to run her in: but it will be on the ebb, and he is shaky. Come, come, Percy, say you’ll do it, that’s a good fellow!!” “Tryon, I don’t like it. I thought my poor share of that business was ended.” The tawny chieftain was evidently struggling with all his might. He could have put a pistol bullet through young Maitland’s head with keen relish or a knife into his bosom; but that would not answer his purpose. Also, he could have cursed and sworn, with real enjoyment; but that would have been equally worse than useless. “Percy, old Donald will be looking for you. Will you disappoint him? And think of the other friends you have on board the Staghound. Would you like to have them nabbed by the king’s officers? Oh! if I could go I would; but I can not. It would ruin me. Donald was sure you would come. And others were as sure as he.” “Where did you leave the brig?” Percy asked. “At the old place--Betty’s Cove--in the Ribble. A few articles were to be landed there.” “What about the sloop of war? Has she been seen?” “Bless you, yes. We ran away from her, just at dark night before last. Donald will run the brig out to-night, and make his way here under cover of darkness. We know the corvette is off the coast, and keeping a sharp lookout for us.” Percy stood for a few moments in thought. For the man before him he would not have gone from the promise he had made himself--a promise that he would never again have any part with the smugglers. Had the crew remained as his father had left it--had Donald Rodney been the chief, as he should have been--and, had they confined their trade to the simple, straightforward course which had been pursued in other years, under such circumstances he might not have refused his aid in a time of need; but it was different now. There was an atmosphere about Frank Tryon which he did not like; something was there that aroused within him dark and painful suspicions. But--for this once--should he leave his father’s old friends in the lurch?