" "These fellows might kill me for this, if they
knew of it!" he growled.
Three days later, the stanch Hirondelle was beating up and down
Granville Bay, while Alan Hawke awaited the letter of the faithful
Mattie Jones. He had furnished the twenty-pound note which made
that natty damsel doubly anxious to meet her faithful lover "Joseph
Smith," to whom she now dispatched the news of the immediate
return of the anxious Professor. Fraser was burning to take up the
gathering of Thibetan pearls of hidden knowledge, while the artful
and restless Professor Alaric Hobbs was stealthily waiting Prince
Djiddin's departure, but kept busied with some personal tidal and
magnetic observations on Rozel Head. In the deserted second floor
of an old martello tower, he had made a lair for his evening star
and planetory researches, and the ingenious Yankee concealed a
rope ladder in the clinging ivy which enabled him to cut off all
intrusion on his eyrie.
CHAPTER XV.
THE FRENCH FISHER BOAT, "HIRONDELLE."
It was four o'clock of a wild November afternoon when Major Alan
Hawke, cowering in a hooded Irish frieze ulster, crawled deeper
into a cave-like recess in the little path leading from the Jersey
Arms up to Rozel Head. The blinding rain was thrown in wild gusts
by the howling winds, now lashing the green channel to a roughened
foam. A sudden and terrific storm was coming on.
Pages:
404
405
406
407
408
409
410
411
412
413
414
415
416
417
418
419
420
421
422
423
424
425
426
427
428