The sailor staggered and fell across the narrow
planks, but still holding Kinlay's left hand he pulled the pilot
smuggler down with him. The sailor let his hand go free. Then
Kinlay tripped, and, uttering a wild yell, fell headlong into the
rushing stream.
The lieutenant, seeing what had happened, loosened his grasp of my
collar and hurried over to his men to try to save Carver from the
dreadful current. One of the wooden planks was thrown into the
water for him to take hold of, but Carver must have failed in his
attempt to reach it. One of the cutter's men ran to the mouth of
the cave and brought back with him a long rope--my own climbing
rope--which he had seen lying on the rocks: this also was too late,
for Carver was already carried off by the swift stream, no doubt to
be taken over into that gulf where Thora had so nearly lost her
life.
There now remained only one other of the smugglers to be captured,
and he was ultimately discovered crouching like a terrified dog in
a dark corner. Before the revenue men left, however, they made a
careful search of the cavern; but they brought nothing down to the
boat excepting the wooden box that Kinlay had been searching in
when he was surprised by the arrival of the blue jackets.
When this excitement was over, and the lieutenant had ordered his
men to return to their boat, I was wondering what their movements
would be in regard to myself.
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