Rosalind had little option but she nodded again, sensing that she was not in any danger from the boy, who had appeared as if from nowhere. She could feel a trickle of warm blood running down her cheek from a cut on her head. Her rescuer edged further into the shadows, dragging her with him, and she looked up, following his gaze as he watched the men push the boat back into the foaming waves and leap on board. More shots were fired, but they missed their mark, and Rosalind found herself hoping that the smugglers would get away. The lights had been extinguished in the cave and no doubt those who had been waiting to collect the contraband would be well on their way to safety. Rosalind knew all the cliff paths and the exploits of the smugglers were legendary. Tales of their brushes with the law circulated from below stairs to the Carey family who had owned Rockwood Castle since the eleventh century. Hester, who had been part of the household ever since Rosalind could remember, had regaled them with tales of the derring-do of the free traders, and their brushes with the preventive men. Bertie and Walter had listened avidly as had Rosalind, although Patricia, being four years her junior, had usually been tucked up in bed with Raggy her beloved rag doll.

‘Are you sure you’re all right?’ the boy’s voice sounded anxious.

Rosalind blinked and rubbed her eyes. She had drifted off into a daydream and her head ached, but now she was back to reality. ‘Yes, I think so.’ She moved away from him so that she could look up and study his face. The moon had come out from hiding and although they were still in the protective shadow of the cliffs, she could make out his features and she was not afraid. ‘Who are you? Why did they row away and leave you here?’

‘I’m just a boy, you don’t need to know more. What’s your name and why were you out on your own at this time of night?’

‘I’ll be in trouble if they discover I’m not in bed.’

‘Do you live in the village?’

‘Not exactly. Where are you from? You sound different to the people in Rockwood.’

He chuckled. ‘I’m not from here. I can’t tell you more, little maid. I need to get away from here before I’m caught.’

‘How will you do that without a boat?’

‘I’ll walk if I have to.’

‘Are you a smuggler?’

‘You don’t need to know anything about me, maid.’

‘I don’t care anyway.’ Rosalind scrambled to her feet, but she swayed as she tried to get her balance and the boy leapt up to catch her.

‘I’d best get you home. Do you live far from here?’

‘No, not really, but the preventive men might be waiting at the top of the cliffs.’