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They pulled up at the farmhouse under the hill, and out came William Sleep to welcome them. He listened to their errand and stood for a minute considering.

“There’s only one thing to be done,” he announced; “and that is to fetch up Dr. Martyn. We’re workin’ that young man hard,” said he; “for he only left the patient a couple of hours ago.” He invited Bessie to step inside and make herself at home; and while Tummels stalled the horse, he posted down in search of the doctor.

About an hour later the two came walking back together, William Sleep with news that the Fly was lying alongside St. Ives Quay. He had seen nothing of Phoby Geen, and hadn’t risked inquiring. The young doctor, though grey in the cheeks and worn with nursing, rang cheerful as a bell.

“If you’d told me this a month ago,” said he, “I might have pulled a long face about it; but now the man’s strong enough to bear moving. You, Mr. Sleep, must lend me a suit of clothes, with that old wideawake of yours. There’s not the fellow to it in this parish. After that, all you can do at present is to keep watch here while I get Dan’l down to the sea. You, Mr. Tummels, by hook or crook, must beg, borrow, or steal a boat in St. Ives, and one that will keep the sea for three or four days at a push.”

“If the fellow comes sneaking round the Folly here, William Sleep and I can knock him on the head and tie him up. And then what’s to prevent my making use of the Fly hersel’?”

“That’s not a bad notion, though we’ll avoid violence if we can. The point is, you must bring along a boat, and as soon after nightfall as may be.”

“You may count on it,” Tummels promised. “Next question is, where be I to take the poor chap aboard? There’s good landing, and quiet too, at Cawse Ogo, a little this side of Treryn Dinas.” Tummels suggested it because he knew the depths there close in-shore, the spot being a favourite one with the Cove boys for a straight run of goods.

“Cawse Ogo be it,” said the doctor. “I know the place, and I think the patient can walk the distance. Unless I’m mistaken it has a nice handy cave, too; though I may think twice about using it. I don’t like hiding with only one bolt-hole.”

“You haven’t found any part for me in your little plans,” put in Bessie Bussow. “Now, I’m thinkin’ that when he finds himself on the high seas and wants to speak a foreign-bound ship, this here may come in handy.” She pulled out a bag from her under-pocket and passed it over to Tummels.

“Gold?” said he. “Gold an’ notes? ‘Tis you have a head on your shoulders, missus.”

“Thank ‘ee,” said she. “There’s twenty pound, if you’ll count it. An’ ’tis only a first instalment; for the lad shall have the rest in time, if I live to alter my will.”

From the farmhouse Dr. Martyn walked boldly up to Stack’s Folly with the bundle under his arm: and in twenty minutes had Dan’l rigged up in William Sleep’s clothes. The day was turning bright and clear, and away over the waste land towards Zennor you could see for miles. Tis the desolatest land almost in all Cornwall, and by keeping to the furze-brakes and spying from one to the next, he steered his patient down for the coast and brought him safe to the cliffs over Cawse Ogo. There in a lew place in the middle of the bracken-fern they seated themselves, and the doctor pulled out his pocket spyglass and searched the coast to left and right. By and by he lowered the glass with a start, seemed to consider for a moment, and looked again.