CHAPTER XVIII
THE NIGHT RIDERS
When Hardy set foot on Roanoke Island, he probably felt almost as elated as did the first English settlers in America when they landed near the same spot three hundred and thirty-odd years before. For him, however, it was the mere start of the journey. His business was to get Hatton back to Cape Peril and get him there in a hurry. Besides, he still felt disturbed about the whereabouts and devilish plans of this mysterious Blanco.
With some difficulty, the pilot made his way up the unpaved street of the still and desolate hamlet. Scarcely a light was visible. The Darevillers, even if not all healthy, wealthy and wise, were early to bed at any rate; and persons prowling around after nine o'clock were more or less suspicious. Hardy, steering his course by a solitary lamp shining through a window of the "hotel," reached the porch without interference, and no sooner had his foot touched the
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