One climbed up the side of the Gap here, another there, and then higher and higher, and seeing the advantageous position they occupied I turned quickly to Bigley.
"Run and get the glass, Big," I said, "and then we'll climb right up to the top of the head." Big shook his head.
"Father has it in the lugger," he said; "but let's climb up all the same." We knew the ways of the great headland better than the people, and were about to start upon our climb when Mother Bonnet came up and caught Bigley's arm.
"Think they'll get away, Master Big ?" she whispered with her face mottled with white blotches.
"I'm sure of it," he cried triumphantly.

"It will soon be dark, too, and father will run in and out among the rocks where the cutter daren't follow." "To be sure he will," said the old woman with a nod and a smile.

"They will get away if--if--Oh! There goes that horrible gun again!" The poor creature turned white and hurried away from us to get a better view of the chase, while Bigley and I climbed right up by degrees to the very highest point of the headland and sat upon the rocks watching the long chase, with the cutter, in spite of her superior rig and sailing powers, seeming to get no nearer to her prey, while the evening shadows were descending, and the two vessels kept growing more distant from the Gap.
The cutter continued firing at regular intervals, and once we thought that the lugger was hit.

But if she was the shot made no difference to her attempts at escape; and though we stayed up there in our windy look-out, fully expecting to see her lying like a wounded bird upon the water with broken wing, no spar came down, and at last the fugitive and the pursuer had become specks in the distance, fading completely from our sight.
"It's no use to stay any longer," I said.

"Let's go down now." Bigley strained his eyes westward and seemed unwilling to stir.
"It will be so dark directly we shall have a job to get down," I said.
"Your father's sure to get away." "Yes," said Bigley; "they'll never catch him now.