"No. They wanted him, but he was too old, he was sayin', and went off to find Christian and send him to be a guide to the strangers."
"That is very good," said Mona, "and we can manage it yet. Danny, do you go off to the castle—the tide is down; you can ford it, can't you?"
"If I'm quick. It's on the turn."
"Go at once. The men are not there now, are they?"
"No, they came across half an hour ago."
"Good. They'll return to the castle just before nine. Go you at this moment. Ford it, and they'll see no boat. Hide yourself among the ruins—in the guard-room—in the long passage—in the cell under the cathedral—in the sally-port—among the rocks outside—anywhere—and wait until the Castle Rushen men arrive. As soon as they are landed and out of sight, get you down to where they have moored their boat, jump into it and pull away. That will cut off five of the nine, and keep them prisoners on the Castle Rock until to-morrow morning's ebb tide."
"But where am I to go in the boat?" asked Danny.
Mona came closer. "Isn't it true," she whispered, "that Kisseck and the rest of them go frequently to the creek that they call the Lockjaw?"
"How did you know it, Mona?"
"Never mind, now, Danny. Do you pull down to the Lockjaw; run ashore there; climb the brow above, and wait."
"Wait?—why? until when?"
"Danny, from the head of the Lockjaw you can see
