Back Aa

Cutlass and Cudgel

Close

<h3>Chapter Thirty Five.</h3> As the midshipman reached the deck, it was to find that there was a light mist on the water, and that the lieutenant was at the side with Gurr, where they were watching a boat coming in from seaward. The cutter was back not far from her old moorings, and the great cliffs of the shore were dimly visible. “Lobster-boat, sir,” said Gurr, as Archy came behind them. “Never mind! I’ll overhaul her. I’m going to be suspicious of everything now. Take the boat, and—Ah, to be sure. Mr Raystoke, take the boat, and see what those fellows mean. They’re making straight for the ledge, and there is no one to buy lobsters there.” “Ay, ay, sir!” That familiar sea-going reply seemed to ring out of the lad’s throat, and afforded him a pure feeling of delight. No more groping about in the darkness, biting his nails, and feeling heart-sick with despondency, but the full delight of freedom and an active life. No lad ever sprang to his work with more alacrity, and, as he leaped into the boat, and the men dropped their oars, there was a hearty look of welcome in each smiling face. “She has just gone into the mist there, Mr Raystoke,” said the lieutenant; “but she’s making straight for that ledge, and you can’t miss her. One moment. If the men seem all right and honest as to what they are going to do, see if you can get any information, but be on your guard, as they’ll send you, perhaps, on some fool’s errand.” “Ay, ay, sir!” cried Archy again, as he took the handle of the tiller. “Now, my lads, give way!” The mist was patchy, thin here and thick there, but it seemed an easy task to overtake the boat, which had glided into the fog, going slowly, with her little sail set, and with only a man and boy for crew. She was about a mile away from the cutter, and about a quarter of that distance from the land when she passed out of sight, and the possibility of not overtaking her never entered the midshipman’s head. All the same, though, he was well enough trained in his duties to make him keep a sharp look-out on either side, as they crept in, to make sure that the boat did not slip away under the cliffs to right or left unseen. The mist grew more dense as they neared the towering cliffs. Then it seemed to become thinner, and, just as the midshipman was thinking to himself how glorious it would be if the man and boy in the boat should prove to be his old friends Ram and Jemmy Dadd, there came a peculiar squeaking sound from somewhere ahead. “Lowering sail, sir,” said Dirty Dick, who was pulling first oar. “Then we have not missed them,” thought Archy, as the men pulled steadily on, with the rushing, plunging noise of the waves beginning to be heard as they washed the foot of the cliffs. “I’ll be bound to say it is Ram and that big scoundrel. Oh, what a chance to get them aboard in irons and under hatches, for them to have a taste of what they gave me!” It seemed perfectly reasonable that those two should have been off somewhere in a boat, and were now returning. Who more likely to be making for the ledge, which, as far as he could judge, was a point or two off to the right. All at once, after a few minutes’ pulling, the boat glided right out of the bank of mist which hung between them like a soft grey veil, while in front, lit up by the first beams of the morning sun, was the great wall of cliff, the ledge over which the waves washed gently, the green pasture high up, and the ledges dotted with grey and white gulls. The picture was lovely in the extreme, but it wanted two things in Archy’s eyes to make it perfect; and those two things were a background formed by the great cliff, down which he had crept, and the feature which would have given it life and interest—to wit, the fishing-boat containing Ram and Jemmy Dadd. “Hold hard, my lads!” cried the midshipman, and the men ceased rowing, holding their oars balanced, with the diamond-like drops falling sparkling from their blades into the clear sea, while the boat glided slowly on towards the ledge, which was just in front. “Why, where’s the boat?” cried Archy excitedly, as he swept the face of the cliff with his eyes. “She aren’t here, sir,” said Dick. “Well, I can see that, my man. Can she have slipped aside and let us pass?” “No,” said one of the other men. “’Sides, sir, she was just afore us ten minutes ago, and we heard her lowering down her mast and sail.” “Could that have been a gull?” “What, make a squeal like a wheel in a block? No, sir, not it.” “Then they have run her up on the ledge and dragged her into one of the holes. Give way!” The men pulled in quickly, and at the end of a few minutes they were as close to the side of the ledge as it was safe to go, for, as the waves ran in, the larger ones leaped right over the broad level space, washing it from end to end. But there was no sign of the boat, and the midshipman hesitated about believing that the man and boy could have taken advantage of a good wave and run her right on. “It’s strange,” said Archy aloud, as he sat there thinking that, if he chose his time right, he might make his men pull the boat in upon a wave, let them jump out and drag her up the rocks. But he shook his head, for he knew that if everything was not done to the moment, the boat would be stove in. “Hullo! What are you shaking your head about?” he said sharply to Dick. “Nothing sir, only you said it was strange.” “Well, isn’t it strange?” “Ay, sir; so’s the Flying Dutchman!” “What? Why, you do not think any of that superstitious nonsense about the boat, do you?” “Well, sir, I dunno. I only says, Where’s the boat now? She couldn’t have got away.” “No,” said another of the men. “She couldn’t have landed there.” “Nonsense!” cried Archy angrily. “Absurd! Who ever heard of a phantom lobster-boat?” Dick shook his head, and then sat playing with the handle of his oar. “You Dick,” cried Archy, “you’re a goose! There, it will not be safe to land, my lads. Here, you two jump ashore as we back in. Mind, just as the sea’s off the ledge; and run up and have a good look round.” The boat was turned, backed in, and, seizing the right moment, the men jumped on to the rock just as the water was only ankle-deep, had a good search round, and came back, to be picked up again safely, though the boat was within an ace of being capsized. But they had seen nothing. There was no boat, and they searched along some distance east, turned back to the ledge and went west, still without elucidation of the mystery; then they went as close under the cliffs as they dared go, in the hope of finding some cavern or passage through the rocks that escaped notice from outside. All in vain, and, obeying the signal now flying on the cutter, the boat was rowed back. “Well, Mr Raystoke, where’s the boat?” “Don’t know, sir. We never got sight of her.” “Then you must have been asleep,” cried the lieutenant angrily. “There, breakfast, my lads, and be smart.” After the meal, Gurr was left in the charge of the cutter, while the lieutenant accompanied Archy to search for the high cliff which contained the old quarry, and they rowed east for a couple of miles in vain. But, after pulling back to the starting-point, and making for the other direction, they had not gone four hundred yards under the cliff before the midshipman exclaimed excitedly,— “There; that’s the place: there!” “Then why didn’t you say so when we were on deck? You could have seen it there.” “I could not tell without seeing it close in, sir; and besides it looks so different from right out yonder.” “But are you sure this is right?” “Oh yes, sir. Look, that’s the place—where there is that narrow rift, and if you look high up there is a hole. There, I can see it plainly.” “Humph! Can you? Well, I cannot!” “But you can see that broad ledge, sir, about two hundred feet up. That’s where I climbed down to, and we had the struggle—that boy and I.” “No, I can’t see any ledges, Mr Raystoke. There may be one there, but if you had not been upon it, I don’t believe you would know that there was one.” Archy looked up at the towering pile of rock, and was obliged to own that he was right. He shivered slightly as he swept the face of the cliff for the various points that had helped him in his descent, and, as he gazed out there in cold blood, it seemed to have been an extremely mad idea to have attempted the descent. “Well, it is impossible to land here,” continued the lieutenant. “You are certain that this is the place?” “Certain, sir.” “Good. Then we’ll go back to the cutter, and this evening a strong party shall land. I’ll lead them myself, and we’ll try and surprise them. It’s quite likely that the signals I saw last night may mean business for to-night. If so, we shall be on the spot.” “Won’t you go at once?” Archy ventured to observe. “No, certainly not; what would be the good? We would be watched, of course, and the scoundrels would signal from hill to hill, and our every step would be known. This evening, my lad, at dusk. Now, my lads, give way.” The boat was rowed rapidly from under the shadow of the mighty cliff, and the midshipman could not repress a shudder as he noticed how swiftly the current ran right out to sea, and fully realised what would have been the consequences to any one who had tried to swim along the coast if he had managed to descend in safety to the cliff foot. Back on board the cutter there was a fair amount of bustle and excitement among the men, for, after months of unfruitful hanging about the coast, chasing luggers which proved to be empty, following false leads to get them off the scent or out of the way when contraband goods were to be landed, here was genuine information at last, the smugglers having, after such long immunity, placed themselves in the hands of the King’s men. Consequently cutlasses were being filed up, pistols carefully examined as to their flints and nicked off to see that they threw a good shower of sparks into the pans, and the men sat and talked together as eagerly as if they were about proceeding upon a pleasant jaunt, instead of upon a risky expedition which might result in death to several, and certainly would in serious injury. “Yes,” the lieutenant said, “rats will run away as long as they can, but when driven to the end of their holes they will fight.” “But will they dare, do you think, sir?” said Archy. “Dare! Yes, my lad. You had a bit of a taste of it the other night when they were surprised in the lane. They will be more savage in their holes, and therefore, as you are so young, I should like you to go with the men, show them the way, and then leave them to do the work.” Archy stared at him. “Yes: I mean it. Of course as an officer you cannot shrink from your duty, but, as you are a mere boy, it is not your duty to go and fight against strong men who are sure to get the better of you.” “But they are not all men there, sir,” said the midshipman, with a look of disappointment getting heavier in his face. “There’s a boy there—that young rascal who came after the cow. I owe him such a thrashing that I must have a turn at him.” “Ah, that’s different,” said the lieutenant; “and it will keep up appearances. But take care to confine yourself to fighting with him. And—er—I would not use my pistol, Raystoke.” “Not shoot, sir?” “Well—no. I want to destroy this wasps’ nest, but in as merciful a way as possible. I have given orders to the men, and I wish you to mind too—I don’t want to kill the wasps, but to make them prisoners.” “Yes, sir, I see.” “They are not French wasps, or Dutch wasps, but English. You understand?” “Quite, sir.” “That’s right. Another hour and you may be off. You think you can find the place?” “I do not feel a doubt about it, sir.” “Well, it’s going to be a dark night, and you and Mr Gurr will have to be careful over your men. You had better keep as close to the cliff as you can, for, of course, the entrance must be somewhere near. I have given Mr Gurr full instructions. You are to search and find the place, and if found hold it, but if you do not find it you will be back on board by daybreak, and another expedition must be made by day. If we can surprise them by night, when they think all is safe, it may save bloodshed. If we are obliged to go by day, they will have good warning, and be prepared to receive us, though they may be now. I wish I was going with you, but that cannot be.” <hr> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

1 of 2

2 of 2