Chapter Six.

Chapter Six.Ram had thrown himself down, dressed as he was, so that an interview with a bucket of water at the back door, and a good rub with the jack towel, were sufficient to brighten him up for the breakfast waiting, and the boy was not long before he was partaking heartily of the bowl of bread and milk his mother placed before him, his father muttering and grumbling the while to himself.“I’m sure you needn’t be so cross this morning, master,” said Mrs Shackle reproachfully.“If you had as much to fret you as I do, wife, you’d be cross.”“Why, you told me this morning that you carried your crop of sea hay without a drop of water on it.”Farmer Shackle shut one eye, tightened up his mouth, and looked with his other eye at his wife, which was his idea of laughing.“Well, then,” she said, “what makes you so cross?”“Cross! Enough to make any man cross. I shall be ruined—such a set of careless people about me. Those cows left out on the cliff field all last night, and Tally must have gone over, for I can’t see her anywhere.”“Oh, poor Tally! My kindest cow,” cried Mrs Shackle.“Yes, I shall set that down to you Ramillies. That’s a flogging for you if she isn’t found.”“No, no, master; don’t be so hard. The poor boy was out all night looking after signals and—”Bang! Down came the farmer’s fist on the table making the plates and basins jump.“Hay, woman, hay!” he roared. “Mind what you’re talking about!”“Don’t do that, Blenheim!” cried Mrs Shackle. “You quite frightened me.”“Yes, I’ll frighten the whole lot of you. Ten golden pounds gone over the cliff through that boy’s neglect.”“Well, never mind, dear. You made ever so much more than that last night, I’ll be bound!”“Will you hold your tongue?” roared the farmer. “There, make haste and finish that food, boy. Take Jemmy Dadd and the boat and find her. Skin’s worth a few shillings. I must have that.”“Did you look over the cliff, father?” asked Ram.“I looked over? Of course, but how could I see in that fog?”Ram was soon out and away, to hunt up Jemmy Dadd, whom he found at last with his eyes half-closed, yawning prodigiously. They went down to the boat, launched her, and rowed out along under the tremendous cliffs, and were about to give up in despair, convinced that the unfortunate cow had been swept right out to sea, when Ram exclaimed—“Look yonder, Jem?”“What for?” grumbled the man; “I’m half asleep, now.”“Never mind that! Look at the cutter.”“Shan’t! I’ve seen un times enough.”“Yes, yes; but look on her deck.”“What for?” said Jemmy, who was steadily pulling homeward.“Oh, what an obstinate chap you are, Jemmy! Look there; Tally’s on deck.”“Ck!” ejaculated the man, this being meant for a derisive laugh. “Why don’t you say she’s having a ride in the Saxham coach.”“I tell you she is. They’ve got her there, and the sailors are trying to milk her.”“Then I wish ’em luck,” said Jemmy. “There’s only one man as can milk Tally, and that’s me.”“Turn the boat’s head, and let’s go for her.”“Ck!” ejaculated Jemmy again. “What a one you are to joke, Ram Shackle; but it won’t do this mornin’. I’m burst up with sleep.”“Open your stupid eyes, and look for once. I tell you they’ve got Tally on the deck of the cutter.”“And I tell you, you young Ram Shackle, I’m too sleepy to see fun anywhere. Won’t do, my lad—won’t do.”Ram jumped up, stepped over the thwart, seized the man’s head, and screwed it round toward the cutter, where the scene previously described was plain in the sunshine.“Well!” ejaculated Jemmy, “so she be.”“Why couldn’t you believe me before, when I told you?”“Thought you was gammoning me, my lad!”“There, row away!” cried Ram; and as soon as they were well within hearing he answered the hail, and next shouted—“I’ve come after our cow.”“Very undignified proceeding, Mr Raystoke,” said the lieutenant, busily walking up and down as the boat with Ram in it was being rowed alongside. “It all comes of being appointed to a wretched, little cobble boat like this, and sent on smuggling duty. If I—if we had been aboard a frigate, or even a sloop-of-war, we shouldn’t have had such an affair as this. Why, confound that boy’s impudence, he has jumped on board. Go and speak to him; order him off; pitch him overboard; anything. How dare he!”Archy drew himself up, laid one hand upon his dirk, and strutted up to Ram, looking “as big as a small ossifer,” as Dirty Dick said afterwards; and gave him a smart slap on the shoulder as he was going after the cow.“Here, you sir!” cried Archy, as the boy faced round. “What do you mean by coming aboard one of His Majesty’s ships like that?”“Eh?”“Touch your hat, sir, when an officer speaks to you.”“Touch my hat to you like I do to Sir Risdon?”“Like you do to any gentleman, sir.”“Oh, very well,” said Ram giving one of his fair brown curls a tug, and showing his teeth.“That’s better. Now then, what do you want?”“Our Tally.”“Your what?”“Our cow, Tally.”“How do I know it’s yours?”“Why, it is. She must have walked over the cliff in the fog. Was your cutter close under so as she fell on deck?”“Of course not, bumpkin,” said Archy impatiently, as the men burst into a guffaw, and then looked horribly serious as if they had not smiled. “We saw her swimming and fetched her on board.”“Thank ye,” said Ram. “I say, how am I to get her home? Can you lend us a rope?”“Who are you, boy?” said the lieutenant, marching up.Ram faced round, stared at the officer’s rather shabby uniform, and gave his curl another tug before pulling his red cap over his brow.“Ram Shackle, sir.”“Is—is that your name, sir,” said the lieutenant pompously, “or are you trying to get a laugh at my expense?”Ram stared.“Do you hear what I say, sir?”“Yes, but I dunno what you mean.”“Here, my man, what’s that boy’s name?” cried the lieutenant to Jemmy Dadd in the boat.“Ram Shackle,” said Jemmy gruffly. “Christen Rammylees!”“And is this your cow?”“No, sir!”“Then, you young rascal, how dare you come and claim it,” cried the lieutenant wrathfully.“Because it’s ours. My father’s; I didn’t mean it was my own.”“Can you give me some proof that it is yours?” said the lieutenant.“Eh!” exclaimed Ram, staring.“I say, show me that the cow is yours, and you shall have her.”“Oh,” cried Ram, and he ran to the side, unfastened the rope used as a halter for the patient beast, ran right forward, and began to call, “Tally, Tally! Coosh-cow, coosh-cow!”The effect was magical, the cow turned sharply round, stretched out her nose so as to make her windpipe straight, and uttered a low soft lowing, as she walked straight forward to where Ram stood, thrust her nose under his arm, and stood swinging her tail to and fro.“Mr Raystoke!”“Ay, ay, sir!” said Archy, going aft and saluting.“It seems to be their cow; let them take it ashore.”“Ay, ay, sir!”“Stop. Bring the boy here,” said the lieutenant.Archy marched forward.“Come here, boy,” he said importantly; and Ram followed him to where the little fat officer stood near the helm, frowning.“Now, sir,” said the lieutenant, “I want you to answer me a few questions. What is your name—no, no, stop, you told me before. Where do you live?”“Yonder, at the farm.”“Oh! At the farm. Look here, boy, did you ever hear of smugglers?”“What?”“Did you ever hear of smugglers?”“Yes, lots o’ times,” said Ram glibly. “They’re chaps that goes across to France and foreign countries, and brings shipfuls o’ things over here.”“Yes, that’s right. Ever seen any about here?”“Well,” said Ram, taking off his red cap, and scratching his curly head, “I dessay I have. Father says you never know who may be a smuggler: they’re all like any one else.”“Humph! Know where they land their cargoes?”“Oh, yes; I’ve heard tell as they land ’em all along the cliff here.”“Bah! Impossible,” shouted the lieutenant.“Is it, sir?” said Ram vacantly. “My father said it was true.”“Seen any smugglers’ craft about during the last few days?”“No, sir; not one,” cried the boy with perfect truth.“That will do, boy. Mr Raystoke let him take his cow and go.”“Ay, ay, sir!”“Then get the gig alongside, and we’ll explore round more of the coast close in.”“Ay, ay, sir! Now, boy, this way.”Ram looked vacantly about him, but there was a very keen twinkle about his eyes, as he followed Archy forward to where the cow stood blinking her eyes, and swinging her tail amongst the men.“I say,” he said.“Did you speak to me, sir?” cried Archy, facing round, and frowning.“Yes. Is that little sword sharp?”“Of course.”“Pull it out, and let’s have a look.”Archy frowned.“Take your cow and go,” he said. “She is a miserable thing without a drop of milk in her.”“What?” cried Ram, with his face becoming animated. Then he shouted to the man in the boat, “Hi! Jemmy, he says Tally’s got no milk in her.”“How do he know?” cried Jem scornfully.“Why, I tried ever so long,” said Dick, who could not refrain from joining in.“Ck!” laughed Jemmy.“Why, she’s our best cow,” cried Ram. “I say skipper.”“Here, you mustn’t speak to an officer like that,” whispered Archy.“What does the boy want?” said the plump little lieutenant, marching forward.“On’y want our cow.”“Then take her, sir, and go!”“Have a drop of milk?”“No,” said the lieutenant, turning his back. “Perhaps Mr Raystoke here might like a little. Can you milk?”“I can’t,” said Ram, shaking his head. “He can. Here, Jemmy, take hold of the painter and come aboard.”“Stop!” cried the lieutenant, “you must not speak like that. You must ask leave, sir.”“Ask who?” said Ram, vacantly.“Touch your cap, and ask the lieutenant to let you.”“Why, I have touched it twice. Want me to pull my hair off? I say, skipper, if you’ll let him come aboard—oh! He is aboard now,”—for Jemmy was already making the boat fast—“Here, give me a clean pail.”The little commander of the cutter tried to look important, and Archy more so, but they forgot everything disciplinarian the next moment, in the interest of the proceedings, as Jemmy Dadd took the bucket handed to him, turned another up beside the side of the cow, and as he was sitting down, Dirty Dick dug his elbows into his messmates’ ribs right and left, whispered “Look out! And over he goes.” Then he drew in a long breath, ready for a roar of laughter when the bucket went flying, and stood staring waiting to explode.But, to Dick’s great disappointment, Tally uttered a soft low, and began to swing her tail gently round, so as to give Jemmy a pat on the back. At regular intervals there was a whishing noise, then another whishing noise half a tone lower, thenwhish—whosh—whish—whosh, two streams of rich new milk began to pour into the bucket, whose bottom was soon covered, and a white froth began to appear on the top.“I say!” cried Dick eagerly, “shall I lash her legs?”“What for?” growled Jemmy.“’Cause she’ll kick it over directly.”“Not she. You wouldn’t kick it over, would you, Tally, old cow?”The cow waved her tail and whisked it about the man’s neck as the milking went on, to the delight of the men, who began to see biscuit and milk in prospect, while the two officers, who were none the less eager for a draught as a change from their miserable ordinary fare, veiled their expectations under a severe aspect of importance.“Here you are,” said Jemmy, drawing back at last—while Dick seemed to be watching, in a state of agony, lest a kick should upset the soft white contents of the bucket—“More’n a gallon this time. How much are we to leave aboard?”“All of it,” said Ram generously; “they deserve it for saving the cow. I say, you,” he continued, turning to Archy, “what do you say to her now?”“Thank you,” replied Archy. “Here, Dick, take that bucket aft, and you, my lads, open the side there, and help them to get the cow overboard.”“Thank ye, sir,” said Ram, smiling. “I say, Jemmy, she’d stand in the boat, wouldn’t she? Or would she put her feet through?”“Let’s try,” was the laconic reply, and taking hold of the rope that had been used as a halter, the man stepped down into the boat, the cow, after a little coaxing, following, without putting her feet through, and showing great activity for so clumsy-looking a beast. Ram followed, and took one of the oars, settled down behind Jemmy, and the next minute, with the whole crew of the cutter standing grinning at the side, they began to row shoreward.“How about the tide, Jemmy?” said Ram, when they had been rowing a few minutes, with the cow standing placidly in the boat.“Too high, can’t do it,” said the man.“Let’s row to the ledge then, and land there till the tide goes down.”“Right,” said Jemmy, and they bore off a little to the east, made straight for the shelf of rock, which was just awash; and as they rowed, they saw the lieutenant and the midshipman enter the light gig, four men dropped their oars in the water, and with the drops flashing from the blades, the gig came swiftly after them.“Why, they’re coming here too, Jemmy,” said Ram, as they reached the ledge, and leaped on to the ammonite-studded stone, over which the water glided and then ran back.“Well, let ’em,” said Jemmy, following suit with the painter, the cow standing contentedly with her eyes half-closed. “Don’t matter to us, lad, so long as they didn’t come last night.”They made fast the hawser to an iron stanchion, one of several dotted about and pretty well hidden by the water, climbed up on the rock, and sat down in the warm sunshine to wait for the turn of the tide, while after a pull in one direction, the gig’s course was altered, and they saw its course changed again.“I liked that chap,” said Ram, as he gazed across a few hundred yards of smooth water, at where Archy sat in his uniform, steering.“What are they up to?” said Jemmy, shading his eyes. Then quite excitedly, “Say, lad, lookye yonder,” he whispered.“I was looking,” cried Ram excitedly; “they’ve picked up a brandy keg.”There was no denying the fact; and as the dripping little barrel was placed by one of the men in the fore part of the gig, the others gave way, and the light vessel came rapidly now toward the ledge.Archy was shading his eyes just then, and pointing out something to the lieutenant a little to the left of where Ram and his companion were seated, and the boy’s eyes, trained by his nefarious habits, gazed sharply in search of danger or criminating evidence, in the direction the midshipman pointed.A chill of horror ran through him, for there, with the wash of the tide half covering and then leaving them bare, were two more brandy kegs, which had been missed the previous night during the fog.“Ah!” ejaculated Ram, as in imagination he saw the well-filled vault, and the crew of the cutter being marched up to make a seizure, and arrest his father perhaps.If he could but get away and give the alarm!

Ram had thrown himself down, dressed as he was, so that an interview with a bucket of water at the back door, and a good rub with the jack towel, were sufficient to brighten him up for the breakfast waiting, and the boy was not long before he was partaking heartily of the bowl of bread and milk his mother placed before him, his father muttering and grumbling the while to himself.

“I’m sure you needn’t be so cross this morning, master,” said Mrs Shackle reproachfully.

“If you had as much to fret you as I do, wife, you’d be cross.”

“Why, you told me this morning that you carried your crop of sea hay without a drop of water on it.”

Farmer Shackle shut one eye, tightened up his mouth, and looked with his other eye at his wife, which was his idea of laughing.

“Well, then,” she said, “what makes you so cross?”

“Cross! Enough to make any man cross. I shall be ruined—such a set of careless people about me. Those cows left out on the cliff field all last night, and Tally must have gone over, for I can’t see her anywhere.”

“Oh, poor Tally! My kindest cow,” cried Mrs Shackle.

“Yes, I shall set that down to you Ramillies. That’s a flogging for you if she isn’t found.”

“No, no, master; don’t be so hard. The poor boy was out all night looking after signals and—”

Bang! Down came the farmer’s fist on the table making the plates and basins jump.

“Hay, woman, hay!” he roared. “Mind what you’re talking about!”

“Don’t do that, Blenheim!” cried Mrs Shackle. “You quite frightened me.”

“Yes, I’ll frighten the whole lot of you. Ten golden pounds gone over the cliff through that boy’s neglect.”

“Well, never mind, dear. You made ever so much more than that last night, I’ll be bound!”

“Will you hold your tongue?” roared the farmer. “There, make haste and finish that food, boy. Take Jemmy Dadd and the boat and find her. Skin’s worth a few shillings. I must have that.”

“Did you look over the cliff, father?” asked Ram.

“I looked over? Of course, but how could I see in that fog?”

Ram was soon out and away, to hunt up Jemmy Dadd, whom he found at last with his eyes half-closed, yawning prodigiously. They went down to the boat, launched her, and rowed out along under the tremendous cliffs, and were about to give up in despair, convinced that the unfortunate cow had been swept right out to sea, when Ram exclaimed—

“Look yonder, Jem?”

“What for?” grumbled the man; “I’m half asleep, now.”

“Never mind that! Look at the cutter.”

“Shan’t! I’ve seen un times enough.”

“Yes, yes; but look on her deck.”

“What for?” said Jemmy, who was steadily pulling homeward.

“Oh, what an obstinate chap you are, Jemmy! Look there; Tally’s on deck.”

“Ck!” ejaculated the man, this being meant for a derisive laugh. “Why don’t you say she’s having a ride in the Saxham coach.”

“I tell you she is. They’ve got her there, and the sailors are trying to milk her.”

“Then I wish ’em luck,” said Jemmy. “There’s only one man as can milk Tally, and that’s me.”

“Turn the boat’s head, and let’s go for her.”

“Ck!” ejaculated Jemmy again. “What a one you are to joke, Ram Shackle; but it won’t do this mornin’. I’m burst up with sleep.”

“Open your stupid eyes, and look for once. I tell you they’ve got Tally on the deck of the cutter.”

“And I tell you, you young Ram Shackle, I’m too sleepy to see fun anywhere. Won’t do, my lad—won’t do.”

Ram jumped up, stepped over the thwart, seized the man’s head, and screwed it round toward the cutter, where the scene previously described was plain in the sunshine.

“Well!” ejaculated Jemmy, “so she be.”

“Why couldn’t you believe me before, when I told you?”

“Thought you was gammoning me, my lad!”

“There, row away!” cried Ram; and as soon as they were well within hearing he answered the hail, and next shouted—

“I’ve come after our cow.”

“Very undignified proceeding, Mr Raystoke,” said the lieutenant, busily walking up and down as the boat with Ram in it was being rowed alongside. “It all comes of being appointed to a wretched, little cobble boat like this, and sent on smuggling duty. If I—if we had been aboard a frigate, or even a sloop-of-war, we shouldn’t have had such an affair as this. Why, confound that boy’s impudence, he has jumped on board. Go and speak to him; order him off; pitch him overboard; anything. How dare he!”

Archy drew himself up, laid one hand upon his dirk, and strutted up to Ram, looking “as big as a small ossifer,” as Dirty Dick said afterwards; and gave him a smart slap on the shoulder as he was going after the cow.

“Here, you sir!” cried Archy, as the boy faced round. “What do you mean by coming aboard one of His Majesty’s ships like that?”

“Eh?”

“Touch your hat, sir, when an officer speaks to you.”

“Touch my hat to you like I do to Sir Risdon?”

“Like you do to any gentleman, sir.”

“Oh, very well,” said Ram giving one of his fair brown curls a tug, and showing his teeth.

“That’s better. Now then, what do you want?”

“Our Tally.”

“Your what?”

“Our cow, Tally.”

“How do I know it’s yours?”

“Why, it is. She must have walked over the cliff in the fog. Was your cutter close under so as she fell on deck?”

“Of course not, bumpkin,” said Archy impatiently, as the men burst into a guffaw, and then looked horribly serious as if they had not smiled. “We saw her swimming and fetched her on board.”

“Thank ye,” said Ram. “I say, how am I to get her home? Can you lend us a rope?”

“Who are you, boy?” said the lieutenant, marching up.

Ram faced round, stared at the officer’s rather shabby uniform, and gave his curl another tug before pulling his red cap over his brow.

“Ram Shackle, sir.”

“Is—is that your name, sir,” said the lieutenant pompously, “or are you trying to get a laugh at my expense?”

Ram stared.

“Do you hear what I say, sir?”

“Yes, but I dunno what you mean.”

“Here, my man, what’s that boy’s name?” cried the lieutenant to Jemmy Dadd in the boat.

“Ram Shackle,” said Jemmy gruffly. “Christen Rammylees!”

“And is this your cow?”

“No, sir!”

“Then, you young rascal, how dare you come and claim it,” cried the lieutenant wrathfully.

“Because it’s ours. My father’s; I didn’t mean it was my own.”

“Can you give me some proof that it is yours?” said the lieutenant.

“Eh!” exclaimed Ram, staring.

“I say, show me that the cow is yours, and you shall have her.”

“Oh,” cried Ram, and he ran to the side, unfastened the rope used as a halter for the patient beast, ran right forward, and began to call, “Tally, Tally! Coosh-cow, coosh-cow!”

The effect was magical, the cow turned sharply round, stretched out her nose so as to make her windpipe straight, and uttered a low soft lowing, as she walked straight forward to where Ram stood, thrust her nose under his arm, and stood swinging her tail to and fro.

“Mr Raystoke!”

“Ay, ay, sir!” said Archy, going aft and saluting.

“It seems to be their cow; let them take it ashore.”

“Ay, ay, sir!”

“Stop. Bring the boy here,” said the lieutenant.

Archy marched forward.

“Come here, boy,” he said importantly; and Ram followed him to where the little fat officer stood near the helm, frowning.

“Now, sir,” said the lieutenant, “I want you to answer me a few questions. What is your name—no, no, stop, you told me before. Where do you live?”

“Yonder, at the farm.”

“Oh! At the farm. Look here, boy, did you ever hear of smugglers?”

“What?”

“Did you ever hear of smugglers?”

“Yes, lots o’ times,” said Ram glibly. “They’re chaps that goes across to France and foreign countries, and brings shipfuls o’ things over here.”

“Yes, that’s right. Ever seen any about here?”

“Well,” said Ram, taking off his red cap, and scratching his curly head, “I dessay I have. Father says you never know who may be a smuggler: they’re all like any one else.”

“Humph! Know where they land their cargoes?”

“Oh, yes; I’ve heard tell as they land ’em all along the cliff here.”

“Bah! Impossible,” shouted the lieutenant.

“Is it, sir?” said Ram vacantly. “My father said it was true.”

“Seen any smugglers’ craft about during the last few days?”

“No, sir; not one,” cried the boy with perfect truth.

“That will do, boy. Mr Raystoke let him take his cow and go.”

“Ay, ay, sir!”

“Then get the gig alongside, and we’ll explore round more of the coast close in.”

“Ay, ay, sir! Now, boy, this way.”

Ram looked vacantly about him, but there was a very keen twinkle about his eyes, as he followed Archy forward to where the cow stood blinking her eyes, and swinging her tail amongst the men.

“I say,” he said.

“Did you speak to me, sir?” cried Archy, facing round, and frowning.

“Yes. Is that little sword sharp?”

“Of course.”

“Pull it out, and let’s have a look.”

Archy frowned.

“Take your cow and go,” he said. “She is a miserable thing without a drop of milk in her.”

“What?” cried Ram, with his face becoming animated. Then he shouted to the man in the boat, “Hi! Jemmy, he says Tally’s got no milk in her.”

“How do he know?” cried Jem scornfully.

“Why, I tried ever so long,” said Dick, who could not refrain from joining in.

“Ck!” laughed Jemmy.

“Why, she’s our best cow,” cried Ram. “I say skipper.”

“Here, you mustn’t speak to an officer like that,” whispered Archy.

“What does the boy want?” said the plump little lieutenant, marching forward.

“On’y want our cow.”

“Then take her, sir, and go!”

“Have a drop of milk?”

“No,” said the lieutenant, turning his back. “Perhaps Mr Raystoke here might like a little. Can you milk?”

“I can’t,” said Ram, shaking his head. “He can. Here, Jemmy, take hold of the painter and come aboard.”

“Stop!” cried the lieutenant, “you must not speak like that. You must ask leave, sir.”

“Ask who?” said Ram, vacantly.

“Touch your cap, and ask the lieutenant to let you.”

“Why, I have touched it twice. Want me to pull my hair off? I say, skipper, if you’ll let him come aboard—oh! He is aboard now,”—for Jemmy was already making the boat fast—“Here, give me a clean pail.”

The little commander of the cutter tried to look important, and Archy more so, but they forgot everything disciplinarian the next moment, in the interest of the proceedings, as Jemmy Dadd took the bucket handed to him, turned another up beside the side of the cow, and as he was sitting down, Dirty Dick dug his elbows into his messmates’ ribs right and left, whispered “Look out! And over he goes.” Then he drew in a long breath, ready for a roar of laughter when the bucket went flying, and stood staring waiting to explode.

But, to Dick’s great disappointment, Tally uttered a soft low, and began to swing her tail gently round, so as to give Jemmy a pat on the back. At regular intervals there was a whishing noise, then another whishing noise half a tone lower, thenwhish—whosh—whish—whosh, two streams of rich new milk began to pour into the bucket, whose bottom was soon covered, and a white froth began to appear on the top.

“I say!” cried Dick eagerly, “shall I lash her legs?”

“What for?” growled Jemmy.

“’Cause she’ll kick it over directly.”

“Not she. You wouldn’t kick it over, would you, Tally, old cow?”

The cow waved her tail and whisked it about the man’s neck as the milking went on, to the delight of the men, who began to see biscuit and milk in prospect, while the two officers, who were none the less eager for a draught as a change from their miserable ordinary fare, veiled their expectations under a severe aspect of importance.

“Here you are,” said Jemmy, drawing back at last—while Dick seemed to be watching, in a state of agony, lest a kick should upset the soft white contents of the bucket—“More’n a gallon this time. How much are we to leave aboard?”

“All of it,” said Ram generously; “they deserve it for saving the cow. I say, you,” he continued, turning to Archy, “what do you say to her now?”

“Thank you,” replied Archy. “Here, Dick, take that bucket aft, and you, my lads, open the side there, and help them to get the cow overboard.”

“Thank ye, sir,” said Ram, smiling. “I say, Jemmy, she’d stand in the boat, wouldn’t she? Or would she put her feet through?”

“Let’s try,” was the laconic reply, and taking hold of the rope that had been used as a halter, the man stepped down into the boat, the cow, after a little coaxing, following, without putting her feet through, and showing great activity for so clumsy-looking a beast. Ram followed, and took one of the oars, settled down behind Jemmy, and the next minute, with the whole crew of the cutter standing grinning at the side, they began to row shoreward.

“How about the tide, Jemmy?” said Ram, when they had been rowing a few minutes, with the cow standing placidly in the boat.

“Too high, can’t do it,” said the man.

“Let’s row to the ledge then, and land there till the tide goes down.”

“Right,” said Jemmy, and they bore off a little to the east, made straight for the shelf of rock, which was just awash; and as they rowed, they saw the lieutenant and the midshipman enter the light gig, four men dropped their oars in the water, and with the drops flashing from the blades, the gig came swiftly after them.

“Why, they’re coming here too, Jemmy,” said Ram, as they reached the ledge, and leaped on to the ammonite-studded stone, over which the water glided and then ran back.

“Well, let ’em,” said Jemmy, following suit with the painter, the cow standing contentedly with her eyes half-closed. “Don’t matter to us, lad, so long as they didn’t come last night.”

They made fast the hawser to an iron stanchion, one of several dotted about and pretty well hidden by the water, climbed up on the rock, and sat down in the warm sunshine to wait for the turn of the tide, while after a pull in one direction, the gig’s course was altered, and they saw its course changed again.

“I liked that chap,” said Ram, as he gazed across a few hundred yards of smooth water, at where Archy sat in his uniform, steering.

“What are they up to?” said Jemmy, shading his eyes. Then quite excitedly, “Say, lad, lookye yonder,” he whispered.

“I was looking,” cried Ram excitedly; “they’ve picked up a brandy keg.”

There was no denying the fact; and as the dripping little barrel was placed by one of the men in the fore part of the gig, the others gave way, and the light vessel came rapidly now toward the ledge.

Archy was shading his eyes just then, and pointing out something to the lieutenant a little to the left of where Ram and his companion were seated, and the boy’s eyes, trained by his nefarious habits, gazed sharply in search of danger or criminating evidence, in the direction the midshipman pointed.

A chill of horror ran through him, for there, with the wash of the tide half covering and then leaving them bare, were two more brandy kegs, which had been missed the previous night during the fog.

“Ah!” ejaculated Ram, as in imagination he saw the well-filled vault, and the crew of the cutter being marched up to make a seizure, and arrest his father perhaps.

If he could but get away and give the alarm!

Chapter Seven.“Get away, and give the alarm?”How could we?There was no rope and pulley up on the cliff now, and the boat was occupied by the cow; while, even if it had been empty, it would have meant a six mile row to reach a landing-place at that time of the tide, and an eight miles’ walk back.And here was the cutter’s gig close to them, and the lieutenant ready to ask him the meaning of the smuggled spirits being there.For there was no mistaking the fact that the kegs were full of smuggled spirit. The one the king’s men had dragged dripping from the sea, bore certain unmistakable markings, and it was evidently brother to those on the rock.Ram and Jemmy had no time for thinking; the gig was run quickly up alongside of the ledge, and Dick tossed in his oar, sprang out, sending the clear water splashing with his bare feet, as he crossed up to the kegs, and, taking one under each arm, went more slowly and cautiously back to the boat, where his messmates took them carefully, with many a chuckle and grin, to deposit them beside the others.“Now, my lad, run her alongside of the cow—I mean of the other boat,” cried the lieutenant.This was quickly done, and the little officer turned sharply to where Ram and Jemmy Dadd were seated on the rock, looking on as stolidly as if nothing whatever was coming.“Hi! You, sir; come here!” cried the lieutenant.“Me, or him?” replied Ram coolly.“You, sir.”Ram got up, whistled softly, and went down to the boat.“Want some more milk?” he said, with a grin.“Silence, sir! Do you see those?”“What, them tubs?”“Yes, sir.”“Not till you got ’em. Wish I had!”“I dare say you do, sir. Now, then: how did they come there?”“Why, your chaps put ’em there. I see ’em just now.”“No, no; I mean in the sea and on that rock.”“Come there?” said Ram, with a vacant look.“Yes, sir! How did they come there? Now, no trifling; out with it at once.”“Been a wreck, p’r’aps, and they’re washed up.”“Bah!” cried the lieutenant.“Ah, you may say ‘Bah!’ but they might. Why, there was a big ship’s boat and a jib-boom washed up here one day; warn’t there, Jem?”“Yes,” growled the rough-looking fellow, half-fisherman half farm-labourer. “And don’t you ’member the big tub o’ sugar, as was all soaked with water, till she was like treacle?”“Ay, and the—”“That will do—that will do!” cried the lieutenant.“Washed up, eh? What’s in those kegs?”“I know,” cried Ram, showing his teeth, and looking at Archy. “Full o’ hoysters! Give us one!”“Come, sir; this won’t do for me. You know as well as I do what’s in those kegs. Where are the rest?”“Rest?” said Ram, looking round. “Are there any more of ’em?”“Yes, I’ll be bound there are. Now, then, out with it, if you want to save your skin.”“Skin? That’s what father said this morning about the cow; but she wasn’t drowned.”“Look here, boy. All this sham innocency won’t do for me. Now, then, if you will tell me where the other kegs are, you shall have a reward; if you don’t, you’ll go to prison as sure as you’re there. Jump ashore, two of you, and arrest them before they run.”Ram turned, and stared at Jemmy Dadd with an ill-used countenance.“What does he mean, Jemmy?”The man shook his head.“Do you know where the other little barrels are?”“Wish I did,” grumbled Jemmy. “Say, master, what would you give a man if he showed you where they were?”“Ten guineas; perhaps twenty,” said the lieutenant eagerly.“Ten guineas! Twenty pounds!” said Jemmy, taking off his red worsted cap, and rubbing his head. “My! Was they your’n? Did you lose ’em?”“No,” roared the lieutenant; “it’s plain enough, and you know. A cargo has been run here on this ledge. Now, then; it’s no use to try and hide it. You know where it is; so will you gain a reward by giving evidence, or will you go to prison?”Jemmy shook his head, and gave Ram a puzzled look.“We came after our cow, sir, please,” said the latter, looking up at the sailor, who stood with a hand upon his arm, while Jemmy did the same.“Here, boy!” cried the lieutenant. “You know what a lot of money ten guineas would be?”“Yes,” said Ram grinning.“Why, you could buy yourself a watch and chain, and be doing your duty to the king as well. Come, did you see a French boat down here last night?”“No,” said Ram. “It was so foggy.”“You are playing with me, sir. Now then, will you answer?”“I did answer,” said Ram meekly. “Didn’t I, Jemmy?”“Jump ashore, you two,” said the lieutenant, “and have a good search all among those rocks. The cargo’s there for certain. You two others,” he continued, “draw cutlasses, and keep guard over the prisoners.”His orders were obeyed, and the two men stood by guarding Ram, Jemmy, and the cow, who blinked her eyes and smelt at the sea water from time to time, raised her head and uttered a soft low, which was answered from the green top of the cliff two hundred feet above them, where another cow stood gazing down.The lieutenant and Archy stood up in the boat watching and directing as Dick and his companion searched about in all directions along the lower ledge, and then managed to climb up to the one twenty feet above, where the next minute Dick gave a shout.“Hah!” cried the lieutenant joyfully. “He has found them.”Ram shut one of his eyes at Jemmy, who made a rumbling noise, but his face did not change.“What is it, my lad?”“Cave,” cried Dick.“What’s in it?”“Lobster-pots and old sail. All wore out.”“Nothing else?”“No, sir.”“You go and look.”The second man disappeared, but returned directly.“It’s on’y a bit of a hole, sir, and there’s nothin’ else.”The search was continued and ended, for the ledge was shut in by the mighty wall of rock towering above their heads, and the lieutenant was soon convinced that it was impossible for any one to climb that without tackle from above.“Come back aboard,” he said. “You two stop and guard those prisoners.”The sailors stepped back into the boat and resumed their oars, to row steadily east for about half a mile, past several shallow caves, but they could not see one likely to become a hiding-place for smuggled goods, and the rock rose higher and higher above their heads, precluding all ascent.The boat was rowed quickly back past where the prisoners sat contentedly enough; save the cow, which kept making the great rock wall echo with her lowings, while three more of her kind now stood on high, gazing down at her plight.The lieutenant now had himself rowed west for about the same distance, but in this direction they did not pass a crack in the great rock wall, let alone a cave, and once more the gig was rowed back.“Get back into your boat,” said the little officer sharply.“Thank ye, sir,” cried Ram. “Come along, Jemmy. Find your little barrels?”“Come aboard, my lads,” continued the lieutenant, without replying to the question. “Make fast her painter to the ring-bolt here.”This was done, a fresh order given, and, with the rough boat and cow in tow, the gig began to make slowly for the cutter.Ram bent his head down in the boat.“Hist, Jemmy!” he whispered.“Hallo!”“Shall we jump over and swim ashore?”“Nay; what’s the good?—they’d come arter us, and there’s no getting away.”“I say,” shouted Ram, “what are you going to do?”Archy turned to the lieutenant.“Take no notice. A day or two aboard will make him speak.”“The cow wants turning out to grass,” shouted Ram; but no heed being paid to his words, “Oh, very well,” he said, “I don’t care. She’ll die, and you’ll have to pay for her. I wish my father knew.”He need not have troubled himself to wish, for Farmer Shackle was lying down, hidden behind some stones on the top of the cliff, watching what was going on, with his brow rugged. He had heard enough of the conversation, after being attracted to the place by the action of his cows, to know that the kegs had been discovered, and he smiled as he made out that his boy and man were quite staunch, and would not say a word.“Won’t get anything out o’ them,” he muttered, as he watched the returning boats. “Shall I tell old Graeme? No; that would only scare him. They’ll land a party, and come and search; but they won’t dare to go to the Hoze, so I’ll leave the stuff there and chance it.”Having made up his mind to this, he lay behind the stones watching till he had seen Ram, Jemmy, and the cow on board the cutter and the boats made fast; after which, as he could see that the lieutenant was busy with his glass, he waited his opportunity, got a cow between him and the sea, and then with raised stick began to drive the cattle from the neighbourhood of the precipice, his action seeming perfectly natural, and raising no suspicion in the officer’s breast.Farmer Shackle was quite right, for it was not long before a boat, well-filled with men, under the command of the midshipman and the master, put off from the cutter, and began to row west to the little cove, through whose narrow entrance a boat could pass to lie on the surface of a cup-shaped depression, at whose head a limpid stream of water gurgled over the cleanly-washed shingle below the great chalk cliffs.Shackle saw them go, and, guessing their destination, chuckled; for in their ignorance the search party were going to make a journey of twelve or fourteen miles round each way, when any one accustomed to the place would have made the trip in less than two.“Well, let ’em go,” said Shackle; “but if they do find out, I’d better have my two boats out at sea,” and he thought of his luggers lying in the little cup-like cove. “Nay there’s no hurry; people won’t be too eager to tell ’em whose boats they are, and I might want to get away.”He remained thinking about his son for a few minutes and then his countenance lightened.“Tchah!” he said; “they won’t eat him, and they can’t do anything but keep him. They’ve found three kegs—that’s all. Wish I’d been behind the man who forgot ’em! He wouldn’t forget that in a hurry.”Farmer Shackle went home, and was saluted by the question—“Found my Tally?”“Yes, wife.”“Drowned?”“No; all right.”That was sufficient for Mrs Shackle, who had some butter to make.Meanwhile the boat containing Archy Raystoke and Gurr the master, with her crew, was rowed steadily along under the cliffs, the deep water being close up. It was a hot day and hard work, but the men pulled away cheerfully, for a run ashore was a change.The opening into the cove was reached, and the boat run ashore, and one man being left as keeper, the little well-armed party of a dozen men were marched off along the narrow road toward the Hoze.Archy was in the highest of spirits, and meant to search everywhere in the neighbourhood of the ledge, so as to cover himself with glory in the eyes of his superior officer. Old Gurr the master, who had been turned over to the cutter for two reasons, that he was a good officer and a man with a bad temper, found no pleasure in the walk whatever.Now he grumbled about his corns, and said he never saw such a road; worse than an old sea beach. Then he limped with the pain of an old wound; and lastly, he forgot all about his troubles in the solace he found in a huge quid of tobacco, with whose juice he plentifully besprinkled the leaves of the brambles that were spread on either side.The men tramped on, exciting the interest of the people of the little villages that were passed—clusters of white rough stone houses by the roadside, whose occupants looked innocence itself, but there was hardly one among them who could not have told tales about busy work on dark nights, carrying kegs and bales, or packages of tobacco from the cliff, to some hiding-place in barn or cave.Old Gurr knew that, and he winked solemnly at the young midshipman.“Nice chickens, Mr Raystoke,” he said.“Where, Gurr?” cried Archy, who was growing fast, and wanted material to help nature. “Let’s get some eggs to take back.”“Eggs!” grumbled the weather-beaten officer; “I didn’t mean fowls, I meant people.”“Oh!”“Eggs, indeed! Their eggs is kegs o’ brandy. Right Nantes; Hollands gin. I know them. They’re all in the game. Keep on, my lads. Step together like the sogers do. This here road’s not the cutter’s deck.”The last order was not needed, for the men marched on cheerfully and well, till they had passed on the inner side of the high cliff where Ram had displayed his lanthorns, and following the rough road, came at last to the scattered cottages occupied by Shackle’s men, and those who had once been servants at the Hoze, before it had sunk down in the world, consequent upon its master’s having espoused the wrong side, and its servants were reduced to one old woman.As they reached the tiny hamlet, a short conference was held between Archy and the master, the latter, in a surly way, giving the lad a few hints as to his proceedings, every suggestion, though, being full of common sense.“We’ve no right to go searching their places, Mr Raystoke, but I shall make a mistake. They won’t complain. They daren’t.”“Why?”“Hands are too dirty; if not with this job, with some other.”So they halted the men, posted one at each end of the little place, so as to command a good view of any one attempting to carry off contraband goods, and went from house to house, the people readily submitting to the intrusion and search, which in each case was without result.Every one of the cottages being tried, the men were marched down hill after Archy, and stood for a few moments gazing out over the cliff, to where the cutter lay at anchor, with the farmer’s boat trailing out astern, and the air so clear that he could even see the cow tethered to a belaying pin, just in front of the mast.Five minutes after they came upon Fisherman-farmer Shackle himself, leaning over his gate and smoking a pipe, as he apparently contemplated a pig, and wondered whether he ought to make it fatter than it was.“Mornin’, gentlemen,” he said, as Archy and the master came up, and halted their men.“Good morning,” said Archy shortly. “Stand aside, please; we must search all your places.”“Search my places, squire—capt’n, I mean? He aren’t here.”“Who is not here? Are not you the master?”“Ay, my lad, but I mean him you’re searching for. Hi! Missus!”“Yes,” came from within, and Mrs Shackle appeared wiping her hands.“Ain’t seen a deserter, missus, have you? Capt’n here has lost one of his men.”“If you’ll let me speak, I’ll explain,” said Archy sharply. “A cargo of contraband goods was landed on the rocks below the cliff last night, and—”“You don’t say so, master!” said Shackle earnestly.“I do say so,” cried Archy; “and you are suspected of having them concealed here.”“Me!” cried Shackle, bursting into a roar of laughter. “Me, Mr Orficer? Do you know what I am?”“No.”“Why, I’m a farmer. Hi, missus, hear him! Young gent here thinks I’m a smuggler. That is a good un, and no mistake.”Archy was taken aback for the moment, but he caught the eye of the master, who was too old over the business to be easily hoodwinked.“The young gentleman’s made quite a mistake,” said Mrs Shackle demurely. “P’r’aps he’d like a mug of our mead before he goes, and his men a drop of home-brewed.”“Ay, to be sure,” cried Shackle. “Put out the bread and cheese, missus, and I’ll go and draw a drink or two. You’ll take something too, won’t you, master?”“Yes; don’t mind,” said Gurr, “but I’d rather take a tot o’ right Nantes or Hollands.”“Ay, so would I,” said Shackle, with a laugh, as his wife began to bustle about and get knives and plates; “but you’ve come to the wrong place, master. I have heared o’ people getting a drop from ’em, after they’ve used their horses and carts, but that’s never been my luck; has it, missus?”“No, never,” said Mrs Shackle; and to herself,—“That’s quite true.”“You are very hospitable,” said Archy shortly; “but I’ve got my duty to do, sir. It’s an unpleasant one, that we must search your place for contraband goods.”“Sarch? Oh, I give you my word, squire, there’s nothing here.”“We must see about that.”“Well, this here arn’t werry pleasant, Mr Orficer, seeing as I’m a reg’lar loyal servant of the king. But theer, I don’t mind if my missus don’t object. You won’t mind, old gal, so long as they don’t rip open the beds and chuck the furniture all over the place?”“I should like to see any of them doing it, that’s all,” cried Mrs Shackle, ruffling up like a great Dorking hen who saw a hawk.“Nothing about the place shall be injured, madam,” said Archy politely; “but we must search.”“Oh, very well then,” said Mrs Shackle; “but I must say it’s very rude.”“Pray, forgive us,” said Archy, raising his hat; “we are His Majesty’s servants, and we do it in the king’s name.”Mrs Shackle responded with her best curtsey, and a smile came back in her face as the farmer said,—“It’s all right, missus; they’re obliged to do it. Where will you begin first—what are you sarching for?”“Brandy,” said Archy.“Oh, then, down in the cellar’s the place,” said Shackle, laughing, and taking three mugs from where his wife had placed them. “If it had been for silks and laces, I should have said go upstairs.”He led the way to a door at the top of some stone steps.“One moment,” said Archy, and, giving orders to the men to separate, surround the premises, and search the outbuildings, then stationing two more at the doors, and taking one, Gurr, to search upstairs, he followed the farmer into a fairly spacious stone cellar, where there was a cider barrel in company with two of ale, and little kegs of elder wine and mead.“Sarch away, squire,” said Shackle bluffly, as he placed the mugs on the floor and turned the wooden spigots.“That’s elder wine in the little barrel. Say, you haven’t seen anything of a boy of mine in your travels? My lad and one of the men have gone after a stray cow. I’m fear’d she’s gone over the cliff.”“They’re all on board the cutter.”“What? Well, that is good news. Full up here. Done sarching, sir?”“Yes,” replied Archy, who began to feel more and more ashamed of being suspicious of so frank and bluffly hospitable a man.“Come along then. Your lads will be as pleased as can be with a mug of my home-brewed.”As he led the way to the door the midshipman gave another glance round, seeing nothing in the slightest degree suspicious, and, a few minutes after, the whole party was being refreshed, both officers quite convinced that there was nothing contraband on the premises.“What other houses are there near here?” asked Gurr at last.“Only one. The Hoze.”“The Hoze?”“Yes; Sir Risdon Graeme’s. Yonder among the trees. Going up there?”“Yes, of course,” said Archy shortly.“Yes, of course,” said the farmer, in assent. “But I’d be a bit easy with him, sir. Don’t hurt his feelings. Gentleman, you see.”“Don’t be alarmed,” said the midshipman quietly. “I hope we shall not be rude to any one.”He moved towards the door, after saluting Mrs Shackle, the farmer leading the way, and pointing out the nearest path up the steep slope.“’Bout my cow,” he said.“I have no doubt that as soon as the lieutenant in command is satisfied that you had nothing to do with the smuggling, your people will be set at liberty.”“And the cow?”“And the cow of course.”“Thank ye, sir; that’s good news. I’ll go and tell the missus. Straight on, sir; you can’t miss it.”“Ah, my fine fellow,” he continued, as he walked back, “if it hadn’t been for your gang with you, how easily I could have turned the key and kept you down in that cellar, where I wish I had your skipper too.”“Oh, Blenheim!” said his wife, in an excited whisper, “how could you help them to go up to the Hoze? They’ll find out everything now.”“P’r’aps not, missus. I sent ’em, because if I hadn’t they’d have found the way. We may get off yet, and if we do—well, it won’t be the first time; so, here’s to luck.”As he spoke he opened a corner cupboard, took out a bottle of spirits which had never paid duty, poured out and drank a glass.“Thank you,” said a gruff voice. “I think, if you don’t mind, farmer, I’ll have a little taste of that. I came back to tell you that your cider is rather harsh and hard, not to say sour, and I’m a man accustomed to rum.”As he spoke, Gurr the master stepped into the room, took the bottle from the farmer’s hand, helped himself to a glass, and poured out and smelt the spirit.“I say, farmer,” he said, as he tasted, “this is the right sort or the wrong sort, according to which side you are.”“Only a little drop given me by a friend.”“French friend, for any money,” said the master, drinking the glass. “Yes, that’s right Nantes. I thought so from the first, farmer, and I know now I was right.”He went off again, and Shackle stood shaking his fist after him.“And we’d got off so well,” he muttered. “I knew that rascal suspected us.”“Say me, Blenheim,” retorted Mrs Shackle. “I’ve begged you hundreds of times not to meddle with the business, but you would, and I’m your wife and obliged to obey. Isn’t Ram a long time bringing home that cow?”“Yes,” said Shackle drily. “Very.”

“Get away, and give the alarm?”

How could we?

There was no rope and pulley up on the cliff now, and the boat was occupied by the cow; while, even if it had been empty, it would have meant a six mile row to reach a landing-place at that time of the tide, and an eight miles’ walk back.

And here was the cutter’s gig close to them, and the lieutenant ready to ask him the meaning of the smuggled spirits being there.

For there was no mistaking the fact that the kegs were full of smuggled spirit. The one the king’s men had dragged dripping from the sea, bore certain unmistakable markings, and it was evidently brother to those on the rock.

Ram and Jemmy had no time for thinking; the gig was run quickly up alongside of the ledge, and Dick tossed in his oar, sprang out, sending the clear water splashing with his bare feet, as he crossed up to the kegs, and, taking one under each arm, went more slowly and cautiously back to the boat, where his messmates took them carefully, with many a chuckle and grin, to deposit them beside the others.

“Now, my lad, run her alongside of the cow—I mean of the other boat,” cried the lieutenant.

This was quickly done, and the little officer turned sharply to where Ram and Jemmy Dadd were seated on the rock, looking on as stolidly as if nothing whatever was coming.

“Hi! You, sir; come here!” cried the lieutenant.

“Me, or him?” replied Ram coolly.

“You, sir.”

Ram got up, whistled softly, and went down to the boat.

“Want some more milk?” he said, with a grin.

“Silence, sir! Do you see those?”

“What, them tubs?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Not till you got ’em. Wish I had!”

“I dare say you do, sir. Now, then: how did they come there?”

“Why, your chaps put ’em there. I see ’em just now.”

“No, no; I mean in the sea and on that rock.”

“Come there?” said Ram, with a vacant look.

“Yes, sir! How did they come there? Now, no trifling; out with it at once.”

“Been a wreck, p’r’aps, and they’re washed up.”

“Bah!” cried the lieutenant.

“Ah, you may say ‘Bah!’ but they might. Why, there was a big ship’s boat and a jib-boom washed up here one day; warn’t there, Jem?”

“Yes,” growled the rough-looking fellow, half-fisherman half farm-labourer. “And don’t you ’member the big tub o’ sugar, as was all soaked with water, till she was like treacle?”

“Ay, and the—”

“That will do—that will do!” cried the lieutenant.

“Washed up, eh? What’s in those kegs?”

“I know,” cried Ram, showing his teeth, and looking at Archy. “Full o’ hoysters! Give us one!”

“Come, sir; this won’t do for me. You know as well as I do what’s in those kegs. Where are the rest?”

“Rest?” said Ram, looking round. “Are there any more of ’em?”

“Yes, I’ll be bound there are. Now, then, out with it, if you want to save your skin.”

“Skin? That’s what father said this morning about the cow; but she wasn’t drowned.”

“Look here, boy. All this sham innocency won’t do for me. Now, then, if you will tell me where the other kegs are, you shall have a reward; if you don’t, you’ll go to prison as sure as you’re there. Jump ashore, two of you, and arrest them before they run.”

Ram turned, and stared at Jemmy Dadd with an ill-used countenance.

“What does he mean, Jemmy?”

The man shook his head.

“Do you know where the other little barrels are?”

“Wish I did,” grumbled Jemmy. “Say, master, what would you give a man if he showed you where they were?”

“Ten guineas; perhaps twenty,” said the lieutenant eagerly.

“Ten guineas! Twenty pounds!” said Jemmy, taking off his red worsted cap, and rubbing his head. “My! Was they your’n? Did you lose ’em?”

“No,” roared the lieutenant; “it’s plain enough, and you know. A cargo has been run here on this ledge. Now, then; it’s no use to try and hide it. You know where it is; so will you gain a reward by giving evidence, or will you go to prison?”

Jemmy shook his head, and gave Ram a puzzled look.

“We came after our cow, sir, please,” said the latter, looking up at the sailor, who stood with a hand upon his arm, while Jemmy did the same.

“Here, boy!” cried the lieutenant. “You know what a lot of money ten guineas would be?”

“Yes,” said Ram grinning.

“Why, you could buy yourself a watch and chain, and be doing your duty to the king as well. Come, did you see a French boat down here last night?”

“No,” said Ram. “It was so foggy.”

“You are playing with me, sir. Now then, will you answer?”

“I did answer,” said Ram meekly. “Didn’t I, Jemmy?”

“Jump ashore, you two,” said the lieutenant, “and have a good search all among those rocks. The cargo’s there for certain. You two others,” he continued, “draw cutlasses, and keep guard over the prisoners.”

His orders were obeyed, and the two men stood by guarding Ram, Jemmy, and the cow, who blinked her eyes and smelt at the sea water from time to time, raised her head and uttered a soft low, which was answered from the green top of the cliff two hundred feet above them, where another cow stood gazing down.

The lieutenant and Archy stood up in the boat watching and directing as Dick and his companion searched about in all directions along the lower ledge, and then managed to climb up to the one twenty feet above, where the next minute Dick gave a shout.

“Hah!” cried the lieutenant joyfully. “He has found them.”

Ram shut one of his eyes at Jemmy, who made a rumbling noise, but his face did not change.

“What is it, my lad?”

“Cave,” cried Dick.

“What’s in it?”

“Lobster-pots and old sail. All wore out.”

“Nothing else?”

“No, sir.”

“You go and look.”

The second man disappeared, but returned directly.

“It’s on’y a bit of a hole, sir, and there’s nothin’ else.”

The search was continued and ended, for the ledge was shut in by the mighty wall of rock towering above their heads, and the lieutenant was soon convinced that it was impossible for any one to climb that without tackle from above.

“Come back aboard,” he said. “You two stop and guard those prisoners.”

The sailors stepped back into the boat and resumed their oars, to row steadily east for about half a mile, past several shallow caves, but they could not see one likely to become a hiding-place for smuggled goods, and the rock rose higher and higher above their heads, precluding all ascent.

The boat was rowed quickly back past where the prisoners sat contentedly enough; save the cow, which kept making the great rock wall echo with her lowings, while three more of her kind now stood on high, gazing down at her plight.

The lieutenant now had himself rowed west for about the same distance, but in this direction they did not pass a crack in the great rock wall, let alone a cave, and once more the gig was rowed back.

“Get back into your boat,” said the little officer sharply.

“Thank ye, sir,” cried Ram. “Come along, Jemmy. Find your little barrels?”

“Come aboard, my lads,” continued the lieutenant, without replying to the question. “Make fast her painter to the ring-bolt here.”

This was done, a fresh order given, and, with the rough boat and cow in tow, the gig began to make slowly for the cutter.

Ram bent his head down in the boat.

“Hist, Jemmy!” he whispered.

“Hallo!”

“Shall we jump over and swim ashore?”

“Nay; what’s the good?—they’d come arter us, and there’s no getting away.”

“I say,” shouted Ram, “what are you going to do?”

Archy turned to the lieutenant.

“Take no notice. A day or two aboard will make him speak.”

“The cow wants turning out to grass,” shouted Ram; but no heed being paid to his words, “Oh, very well,” he said, “I don’t care. She’ll die, and you’ll have to pay for her. I wish my father knew.”

He need not have troubled himself to wish, for Farmer Shackle was lying down, hidden behind some stones on the top of the cliff, watching what was going on, with his brow rugged. He had heard enough of the conversation, after being attracted to the place by the action of his cows, to know that the kegs had been discovered, and he smiled as he made out that his boy and man were quite staunch, and would not say a word.

“Won’t get anything out o’ them,” he muttered, as he watched the returning boats. “Shall I tell old Graeme? No; that would only scare him. They’ll land a party, and come and search; but they won’t dare to go to the Hoze, so I’ll leave the stuff there and chance it.”

Having made up his mind to this, he lay behind the stones watching till he had seen Ram, Jemmy, and the cow on board the cutter and the boats made fast; after which, as he could see that the lieutenant was busy with his glass, he waited his opportunity, got a cow between him and the sea, and then with raised stick began to drive the cattle from the neighbourhood of the precipice, his action seeming perfectly natural, and raising no suspicion in the officer’s breast.

Farmer Shackle was quite right, for it was not long before a boat, well-filled with men, under the command of the midshipman and the master, put off from the cutter, and began to row west to the little cove, through whose narrow entrance a boat could pass to lie on the surface of a cup-shaped depression, at whose head a limpid stream of water gurgled over the cleanly-washed shingle below the great chalk cliffs.

Shackle saw them go, and, guessing their destination, chuckled; for in their ignorance the search party were going to make a journey of twelve or fourteen miles round each way, when any one accustomed to the place would have made the trip in less than two.

“Well, let ’em go,” said Shackle; “but if they do find out, I’d better have my two boats out at sea,” and he thought of his luggers lying in the little cup-like cove. “Nay there’s no hurry; people won’t be too eager to tell ’em whose boats they are, and I might want to get away.”

He remained thinking about his son for a few minutes and then his countenance lightened.

“Tchah!” he said; “they won’t eat him, and they can’t do anything but keep him. They’ve found three kegs—that’s all. Wish I’d been behind the man who forgot ’em! He wouldn’t forget that in a hurry.”

Farmer Shackle went home, and was saluted by the question—

“Found my Tally?”

“Yes, wife.”

“Drowned?”

“No; all right.”

That was sufficient for Mrs Shackle, who had some butter to make.

Meanwhile the boat containing Archy Raystoke and Gurr the master, with her crew, was rowed steadily along under the cliffs, the deep water being close up. It was a hot day and hard work, but the men pulled away cheerfully, for a run ashore was a change.

The opening into the cove was reached, and the boat run ashore, and one man being left as keeper, the little well-armed party of a dozen men were marched off along the narrow road toward the Hoze.

Archy was in the highest of spirits, and meant to search everywhere in the neighbourhood of the ledge, so as to cover himself with glory in the eyes of his superior officer. Old Gurr the master, who had been turned over to the cutter for two reasons, that he was a good officer and a man with a bad temper, found no pleasure in the walk whatever.

Now he grumbled about his corns, and said he never saw such a road; worse than an old sea beach. Then he limped with the pain of an old wound; and lastly, he forgot all about his troubles in the solace he found in a huge quid of tobacco, with whose juice he plentifully besprinkled the leaves of the brambles that were spread on either side.

The men tramped on, exciting the interest of the people of the little villages that were passed—clusters of white rough stone houses by the roadside, whose occupants looked innocence itself, but there was hardly one among them who could not have told tales about busy work on dark nights, carrying kegs and bales, or packages of tobacco from the cliff, to some hiding-place in barn or cave.

Old Gurr knew that, and he winked solemnly at the young midshipman.

“Nice chickens, Mr Raystoke,” he said.

“Where, Gurr?” cried Archy, who was growing fast, and wanted material to help nature. “Let’s get some eggs to take back.”

“Eggs!” grumbled the weather-beaten officer; “I didn’t mean fowls, I meant people.”

“Oh!”

“Eggs, indeed! Their eggs is kegs o’ brandy. Right Nantes; Hollands gin. I know them. They’re all in the game. Keep on, my lads. Step together like the sogers do. This here road’s not the cutter’s deck.”

The last order was not needed, for the men marched on cheerfully and well, till they had passed on the inner side of the high cliff where Ram had displayed his lanthorns, and following the rough road, came at last to the scattered cottages occupied by Shackle’s men, and those who had once been servants at the Hoze, before it had sunk down in the world, consequent upon its master’s having espoused the wrong side, and its servants were reduced to one old woman.

As they reached the tiny hamlet, a short conference was held between Archy and the master, the latter, in a surly way, giving the lad a few hints as to his proceedings, every suggestion, though, being full of common sense.

“We’ve no right to go searching their places, Mr Raystoke, but I shall make a mistake. They won’t complain. They daren’t.”

“Why?”

“Hands are too dirty; if not with this job, with some other.”

So they halted the men, posted one at each end of the little place, so as to command a good view of any one attempting to carry off contraband goods, and went from house to house, the people readily submitting to the intrusion and search, which in each case was without result.

Every one of the cottages being tried, the men were marched down hill after Archy, and stood for a few moments gazing out over the cliff, to where the cutter lay at anchor, with the farmer’s boat trailing out astern, and the air so clear that he could even see the cow tethered to a belaying pin, just in front of the mast.

Five minutes after they came upon Fisherman-farmer Shackle himself, leaning over his gate and smoking a pipe, as he apparently contemplated a pig, and wondered whether he ought to make it fatter than it was.

“Mornin’, gentlemen,” he said, as Archy and the master came up, and halted their men.

“Good morning,” said Archy shortly. “Stand aside, please; we must search all your places.”

“Search my places, squire—capt’n, I mean? He aren’t here.”

“Who is not here? Are not you the master?”

“Ay, my lad, but I mean him you’re searching for. Hi! Missus!”

“Yes,” came from within, and Mrs Shackle appeared wiping her hands.

“Ain’t seen a deserter, missus, have you? Capt’n here has lost one of his men.”

“If you’ll let me speak, I’ll explain,” said Archy sharply. “A cargo of contraband goods was landed on the rocks below the cliff last night, and—”

“You don’t say so, master!” said Shackle earnestly.

“I do say so,” cried Archy; “and you are suspected of having them concealed here.”

“Me!” cried Shackle, bursting into a roar of laughter. “Me, Mr Orficer? Do you know what I am?”

“No.”

“Why, I’m a farmer. Hi, missus, hear him! Young gent here thinks I’m a smuggler. That is a good un, and no mistake.”

Archy was taken aback for the moment, but he caught the eye of the master, who was too old over the business to be easily hoodwinked.

“The young gentleman’s made quite a mistake,” said Mrs Shackle demurely. “P’r’aps he’d like a mug of our mead before he goes, and his men a drop of home-brewed.”

“Ay, to be sure,” cried Shackle. “Put out the bread and cheese, missus, and I’ll go and draw a drink or two. You’ll take something too, won’t you, master?”

“Yes; don’t mind,” said Gurr, “but I’d rather take a tot o’ right Nantes or Hollands.”

“Ay, so would I,” said Shackle, with a laugh, as his wife began to bustle about and get knives and plates; “but you’ve come to the wrong place, master. I have heared o’ people getting a drop from ’em, after they’ve used their horses and carts, but that’s never been my luck; has it, missus?”

“No, never,” said Mrs Shackle; and to herself,—“That’s quite true.”

“You are very hospitable,” said Archy shortly; “but I’ve got my duty to do, sir. It’s an unpleasant one, that we must search your place for contraband goods.”

“Sarch? Oh, I give you my word, squire, there’s nothing here.”

“We must see about that.”

“Well, this here arn’t werry pleasant, Mr Orficer, seeing as I’m a reg’lar loyal servant of the king. But theer, I don’t mind if my missus don’t object. You won’t mind, old gal, so long as they don’t rip open the beds and chuck the furniture all over the place?”

“I should like to see any of them doing it, that’s all,” cried Mrs Shackle, ruffling up like a great Dorking hen who saw a hawk.

“Nothing about the place shall be injured, madam,” said Archy politely; “but we must search.”

“Oh, very well then,” said Mrs Shackle; “but I must say it’s very rude.”

“Pray, forgive us,” said Archy, raising his hat; “we are His Majesty’s servants, and we do it in the king’s name.”

Mrs Shackle responded with her best curtsey, and a smile came back in her face as the farmer said,—

“It’s all right, missus; they’re obliged to do it. Where will you begin first—what are you sarching for?”

“Brandy,” said Archy.

“Oh, then, down in the cellar’s the place,” said Shackle, laughing, and taking three mugs from where his wife had placed them. “If it had been for silks and laces, I should have said go upstairs.”

He led the way to a door at the top of some stone steps.

“One moment,” said Archy, and, giving orders to the men to separate, surround the premises, and search the outbuildings, then stationing two more at the doors, and taking one, Gurr, to search upstairs, he followed the farmer into a fairly spacious stone cellar, where there was a cider barrel in company with two of ale, and little kegs of elder wine and mead.

“Sarch away, squire,” said Shackle bluffly, as he placed the mugs on the floor and turned the wooden spigots.

“That’s elder wine in the little barrel. Say, you haven’t seen anything of a boy of mine in your travels? My lad and one of the men have gone after a stray cow. I’m fear’d she’s gone over the cliff.”

“They’re all on board the cutter.”

“What? Well, that is good news. Full up here. Done sarching, sir?”

“Yes,” replied Archy, who began to feel more and more ashamed of being suspicious of so frank and bluffly hospitable a man.

“Come along then. Your lads will be as pleased as can be with a mug of my home-brewed.”

As he led the way to the door the midshipman gave another glance round, seeing nothing in the slightest degree suspicious, and, a few minutes after, the whole party was being refreshed, both officers quite convinced that there was nothing contraband on the premises.

“What other houses are there near here?” asked Gurr at last.

“Only one. The Hoze.”

“The Hoze?”

“Yes; Sir Risdon Graeme’s. Yonder among the trees. Going up there?”

“Yes, of course,” said Archy shortly.

“Yes, of course,” said the farmer, in assent. “But I’d be a bit easy with him, sir. Don’t hurt his feelings. Gentleman, you see.”

“Don’t be alarmed,” said the midshipman quietly. “I hope we shall not be rude to any one.”

He moved towards the door, after saluting Mrs Shackle, the farmer leading the way, and pointing out the nearest path up the steep slope.

“’Bout my cow,” he said.

“I have no doubt that as soon as the lieutenant in command is satisfied that you had nothing to do with the smuggling, your people will be set at liberty.”

“And the cow?”

“And the cow of course.”

“Thank ye, sir; that’s good news. I’ll go and tell the missus. Straight on, sir; you can’t miss it.”

“Ah, my fine fellow,” he continued, as he walked back, “if it hadn’t been for your gang with you, how easily I could have turned the key and kept you down in that cellar, where I wish I had your skipper too.”

“Oh, Blenheim!” said his wife, in an excited whisper, “how could you help them to go up to the Hoze? They’ll find out everything now.”

“P’r’aps not, missus. I sent ’em, because if I hadn’t they’d have found the way. We may get off yet, and if we do—well, it won’t be the first time; so, here’s to luck.”

As he spoke he opened a corner cupboard, took out a bottle of spirits which had never paid duty, poured out and drank a glass.

“Thank you,” said a gruff voice. “I think, if you don’t mind, farmer, I’ll have a little taste of that. I came back to tell you that your cider is rather harsh and hard, not to say sour, and I’m a man accustomed to rum.”

As he spoke, Gurr the master stepped into the room, took the bottle from the farmer’s hand, helped himself to a glass, and poured out and smelt the spirit.

“I say, farmer,” he said, as he tasted, “this is the right sort or the wrong sort, according to which side you are.”

“Only a little drop given me by a friend.”

“French friend, for any money,” said the master, drinking the glass. “Yes, that’s right Nantes. I thought so from the first, farmer, and I know now I was right.”

He went off again, and Shackle stood shaking his fist after him.

“And we’d got off so well,” he muttered. “I knew that rascal suspected us.”

“Say me, Blenheim,” retorted Mrs Shackle. “I’ve begged you hundreds of times not to meddle with the business, but you would, and I’m your wife and obliged to obey. Isn’t Ram a long time bringing home that cow?”

“Yes,” said Shackle drily. “Very.”

Chapter Eight.Archy was some little distance ahead of his men, and he had just stepped into the patch of woodland which surrounded the Hoze, when he heard a pleasant little voice singing a snatch of a Jacobite song.He stopped short to listen, it sounded so bird-like and sweet, and half-laughingly he sang the last line over aloud, thinking the while how disloyal he was.Hardly had he finished, when there was a burst of barking, a rush, and a dog came hurrying toward him, followed by a voice crying—“Grip, Grip, come here!”The dog seemed to pay no heed to the call, and at a turn of the track, Archy saw him coming open-mouthed.It was not a pleasant sight, and the youth felt disposed to take to his heels, and run for protection to his men.But there were drawbacks to such a proceeding.If he ran it would look cowardly, and he knew for certain that the dog would come after him, and take him at a disadvantage; so, making a virtue of necessity, he whipped out his dirk and ran hard at the dog, who checked his pace, hesitated, stopped, barked more furiously than ever, and then turned round, and was chased by the midshipman, who drew up on finding himself face to face with Sir Risdon’s daughter, out for her daily walk.The girl turned white, and was in the act of turning to run away, when Archy’s words arrested her.“No, no,” he cried, “don’t run away.”She stopped, and looked from his face to his dirk, and back.“Oh, I see,” he said, “that alarmed you. There,” he continued, sheathing the little weapon, “I only drew it because your dog looked so fierce. Does he bite?”“Sometimes, I’m afraid. But were you coming to see my father? Who are you?” she added uneasily, as she glanced at the lad’s uniform.“I am Archibald Raystoke, of His Majesty’s cutterWhite Hawk.”“And you want to see my father?” cried the girl, beginning to tremble.“Well, yes, I ought to see him. The fact is, we have landed to search for a quantity of smuggled things, and to make a capture of the smugglers if we can.”Celia looked at him wildly, and her face grew more and more white.“Will you show me the way to the house? The Hoze you call it, do you not?”Celia gave a quick, almost imperceptible nod, as she recalled how she had lain in her clothes, and listened to the busy coming and going of footsteps, for the greater part of the night.As all this came to her mind, she felt at first as if she must run to warn her father. Then a giddy feeling of dread came over her, and she stood staring blankly at the frank-looking boy before her.“I know the great vault is full of smuggled things,” she said to herself, “and that they will think my father put them there. What shall I do?”“Poor little lassie!” said Archy to himself, as he smiled complacently; “she has never seen an officer in uniform before, and I frightened her with my drawn sword.”At that moment, Gurr came up with the men, and Celia seemed as if turned to stone.“This young lady lives at the house, Mr Gurr,” said Archy aloud, “and she will show us the way.”Poor Celia felt as if she could neither move nor speak. It seemed horrible to her that she should have the task of guiding the king’s men, perhaps to arrest her father. But just then she was brought to herself by the behaviour of the dog, who, on seeing his mistress talking in a friendly way to the stranger who had chased him, had condescended to be quiet, but now that a fresh party of the enemy was approaching, set up his bristles, and began to bark and growl furiously.“Down, Grip! Quiet!” she cried, and feeling bound to act, she went on, with the midshipman keeping close up, and putting in an apologetic word about giving her so much trouble.Celia could hardly keep down a hysterical cry, as she caught sight of her father and mother, the latter with her hand upon the former’s arm. They had been taking their customary walk in the neglected garden, and Sir Risdon was about to lead his pale, careworn lady up the steps, when the snarling and subdued barking of Grip made him turn his head, and he stopped short with his lips almost white.“What is it?” whispered Lady Graeme, as she saw the uniforms and weapons of the men.“The end!” said the unhappy man, as he looked wildly at his wife. “The result of my weakness. They are on the scent of the smuggled goods, and I am to be called to account for their possession. Better that we had starved!”Lady Graeme caught his hand, and pressed it hard.“Be firm,” she whispered; “you will betray yourself.”“Well,” he replied bitterly, “why not? Better so than being the slave of that wretched man. I feel that I am worse than he. I do know better, he does not.”Recalling that he was in the presence of a gentleman, Archy raised his hat, advanced and said, apologetically, who and what they were. That his was a very unpleasant duty, but that as a gentleman, Sir Risdon would see that the king’s officers had no alternative but to carry out their duty.“Of course not, sir,” said Sir Risdon. “I understand, sir, you wish to search. Very well, I shall raise no objection. Proceed.”“Shall we close the men all round the house?” said the master, coming up after halting the men.“Wait a minute,” replied Archy. “Really, I hardly think it is necessary for us to commit so serious an act of rudeness towards a gentleman. Perhaps Sir Risdon Graeme will be good enough to assure me.”“No, sir,” said the baronet sternly; “I shall make no obstacle. You have your duty to do; pray proceed.”The midshipman hesitated, and looked from one to the other, seeing Lady Graeme standing pale, handsome, and statuesque by her husband’s side, while on the other side was Celia, holding her father’s hand, and resting her forehead against his arm.“I won’t do it, I can’t,” thought Archy. “Why didn’t he say out at once he had no knowledge of the affair, and send us about our business?”At that moment, he felt his sleeve plucked, and turning angrily round, he saw the elderly master, who had been standing hat in hand, greatly impressed by Lady Graeme’s dignity.“We’re on the wrong tack, Mr Raystoke, sir,” he whispered.“Think so, Gurr?” said Archy joyfully.“Oh, yes! These are not the sort o’ folk to do that kind o’ thing. Apologise, and I’ll give the order to march. It goes through me like a knife.”Archy drew a long breath, and was about to retire his men, when he heard something which made him bound forward, for Celia, unable to bear the horror and alarm any longer had suddenly swooned away.The midshipman was too late, for Sir Risdon had bent down, raised his child, and was about to carry her into the house.He turned fiercely on the young officer.“Well, sir,” he said sternly, “you have your duty to do; pray go on, and then relieve my wife and child of the presence of your men.”“I beg your pardon, Sir Risdon,” said Archy quickly. “No one could regret this more than I do. You see I am only a young officer, quite a boy, and was sent on this unpleasant duty.”“Go on, sir, go on!”“Oh, no!” cried the lad; “I am unwilling to search the place. I’m sure if our lieutenant knew he would not wish it for a moment.”The baronet gazed at the boy wildly, as he clasped his child to his breast.“You—you are not going to search?” he said hesitatingly.“No, of course not. Pray forgive me. I’ll lead my men back to the boat at once.”He raised his hat to Lady Graeme, an example followed by the master clumsily, as he backed away to the men, whom he faced round, the order was given, and they began to march back.As they disappeared among the trees, Sir Risdon stooped down and kissed his child’s forehead passionately.“Wife,” he said, in a deep, husky voice, “I never felt the misery and degradation of my position so cruelly before. Take her up to her room.”“What are you going to do, Risdon?” exclaimed the lady.“Follow that poor lad, and let him know the truth. I will not let him fail in his duty, to rescue that old scoundrel down below.”“No, no! You must not. It would be too cruel,” whispered Lady Graeme wildly. “Think of the consequences.”“I do,” said Sir Risdon sternly. “I should have behaved like what I have a right to be called—a gentleman.”“And make our fortunes ten times worse. You would be torn from us. What are poverty and disgrace to that?”“You are cruel,” said Sir Risdon bitterly. “I must, woman; I tell you I must. If this poor child should ever know into what a pit I have allowed myself to be led, how can I ever look her in the face again?”“It would kill her for you to be taken away, to be punished, perhaps, for that which you could hardly help.”“No, she would soon forget.”“And I should soon forget?” said Lady Graeme reproachfully.Sir Risdon turned to her wildly, as she laid her head upon his breast.“If you were taken from us, it would kill me too,” she said tenderly; and then in silence, they bore their insensible child into the forbidding-looking house.

Archy was some little distance ahead of his men, and he had just stepped into the patch of woodland which surrounded the Hoze, when he heard a pleasant little voice singing a snatch of a Jacobite song.

He stopped short to listen, it sounded so bird-like and sweet, and half-laughingly he sang the last line over aloud, thinking the while how disloyal he was.

Hardly had he finished, when there was a burst of barking, a rush, and a dog came hurrying toward him, followed by a voice crying—

“Grip, Grip, come here!”

The dog seemed to pay no heed to the call, and at a turn of the track, Archy saw him coming open-mouthed.

It was not a pleasant sight, and the youth felt disposed to take to his heels, and run for protection to his men.

But there were drawbacks to such a proceeding.

If he ran it would look cowardly, and he knew for certain that the dog would come after him, and take him at a disadvantage; so, making a virtue of necessity, he whipped out his dirk and ran hard at the dog, who checked his pace, hesitated, stopped, barked more furiously than ever, and then turned round, and was chased by the midshipman, who drew up on finding himself face to face with Sir Risdon’s daughter, out for her daily walk.

The girl turned white, and was in the act of turning to run away, when Archy’s words arrested her.

“No, no,” he cried, “don’t run away.”

She stopped, and looked from his face to his dirk, and back.

“Oh, I see,” he said, “that alarmed you. There,” he continued, sheathing the little weapon, “I only drew it because your dog looked so fierce. Does he bite?”

“Sometimes, I’m afraid. But were you coming to see my father? Who are you?” she added uneasily, as she glanced at the lad’s uniform.

“I am Archibald Raystoke, of His Majesty’s cutterWhite Hawk.”

“And you want to see my father?” cried the girl, beginning to tremble.

“Well, yes, I ought to see him. The fact is, we have landed to search for a quantity of smuggled things, and to make a capture of the smugglers if we can.”

Celia looked at him wildly, and her face grew more and more white.

“Will you show me the way to the house? The Hoze you call it, do you not?”

Celia gave a quick, almost imperceptible nod, as she recalled how she had lain in her clothes, and listened to the busy coming and going of footsteps, for the greater part of the night.

As all this came to her mind, she felt at first as if she must run to warn her father. Then a giddy feeling of dread came over her, and she stood staring blankly at the frank-looking boy before her.

“I know the great vault is full of smuggled things,” she said to herself, “and that they will think my father put them there. What shall I do?”

“Poor little lassie!” said Archy to himself, as he smiled complacently; “she has never seen an officer in uniform before, and I frightened her with my drawn sword.”

At that moment, Gurr came up with the men, and Celia seemed as if turned to stone.

“This young lady lives at the house, Mr Gurr,” said Archy aloud, “and she will show us the way.”

Poor Celia felt as if she could neither move nor speak. It seemed horrible to her that she should have the task of guiding the king’s men, perhaps to arrest her father. But just then she was brought to herself by the behaviour of the dog, who, on seeing his mistress talking in a friendly way to the stranger who had chased him, had condescended to be quiet, but now that a fresh party of the enemy was approaching, set up his bristles, and began to bark and growl furiously.

“Down, Grip! Quiet!” she cried, and feeling bound to act, she went on, with the midshipman keeping close up, and putting in an apologetic word about giving her so much trouble.

Celia could hardly keep down a hysterical cry, as she caught sight of her father and mother, the latter with her hand upon the former’s arm. They had been taking their customary walk in the neglected garden, and Sir Risdon was about to lead his pale, careworn lady up the steps, when the snarling and subdued barking of Grip made him turn his head, and he stopped short with his lips almost white.

“What is it?” whispered Lady Graeme, as she saw the uniforms and weapons of the men.

“The end!” said the unhappy man, as he looked wildly at his wife. “The result of my weakness. They are on the scent of the smuggled goods, and I am to be called to account for their possession. Better that we had starved!”

Lady Graeme caught his hand, and pressed it hard.

“Be firm,” she whispered; “you will betray yourself.”

“Well,” he replied bitterly, “why not? Better so than being the slave of that wretched man. I feel that I am worse than he. I do know better, he does not.”

Recalling that he was in the presence of a gentleman, Archy raised his hat, advanced and said, apologetically, who and what they were. That his was a very unpleasant duty, but that as a gentleman, Sir Risdon would see that the king’s officers had no alternative but to carry out their duty.

“Of course not, sir,” said Sir Risdon. “I understand, sir, you wish to search. Very well, I shall raise no objection. Proceed.”

“Shall we close the men all round the house?” said the master, coming up after halting the men.

“Wait a minute,” replied Archy. “Really, I hardly think it is necessary for us to commit so serious an act of rudeness towards a gentleman. Perhaps Sir Risdon Graeme will be good enough to assure me.”

“No, sir,” said the baronet sternly; “I shall make no obstacle. You have your duty to do; pray proceed.”

The midshipman hesitated, and looked from one to the other, seeing Lady Graeme standing pale, handsome, and statuesque by her husband’s side, while on the other side was Celia, holding her father’s hand, and resting her forehead against his arm.

“I won’t do it, I can’t,” thought Archy. “Why didn’t he say out at once he had no knowledge of the affair, and send us about our business?”

At that moment, he felt his sleeve plucked, and turning angrily round, he saw the elderly master, who had been standing hat in hand, greatly impressed by Lady Graeme’s dignity.

“We’re on the wrong tack, Mr Raystoke, sir,” he whispered.

“Think so, Gurr?” said Archy joyfully.

“Oh, yes! These are not the sort o’ folk to do that kind o’ thing. Apologise, and I’ll give the order to march. It goes through me like a knife.”

Archy drew a long breath, and was about to retire his men, when he heard something which made him bound forward, for Celia, unable to bear the horror and alarm any longer had suddenly swooned away.

The midshipman was too late, for Sir Risdon had bent down, raised his child, and was about to carry her into the house.

He turned fiercely on the young officer.

“Well, sir,” he said sternly, “you have your duty to do; pray go on, and then relieve my wife and child of the presence of your men.”

“I beg your pardon, Sir Risdon,” said Archy quickly. “No one could regret this more than I do. You see I am only a young officer, quite a boy, and was sent on this unpleasant duty.”

“Go on, sir, go on!”

“Oh, no!” cried the lad; “I am unwilling to search the place. I’m sure if our lieutenant knew he would not wish it for a moment.”

The baronet gazed at the boy wildly, as he clasped his child to his breast.

“You—you are not going to search?” he said hesitatingly.

“No, of course not. Pray forgive me. I’ll lead my men back to the boat at once.”

He raised his hat to Lady Graeme, an example followed by the master clumsily, as he backed away to the men, whom he faced round, the order was given, and they began to march back.

As they disappeared among the trees, Sir Risdon stooped down and kissed his child’s forehead passionately.

“Wife,” he said, in a deep, husky voice, “I never felt the misery and degradation of my position so cruelly before. Take her up to her room.”

“What are you going to do, Risdon?” exclaimed the lady.

“Follow that poor lad, and let him know the truth. I will not let him fail in his duty, to rescue that old scoundrel down below.”

“No, no! You must not. It would be too cruel,” whispered Lady Graeme wildly. “Think of the consequences.”

“I do,” said Sir Risdon sternly. “I should have behaved like what I have a right to be called—a gentleman.”

“And make our fortunes ten times worse. You would be torn from us. What are poverty and disgrace to that?”

“You are cruel,” said Sir Risdon bitterly. “I must, woman; I tell you I must. If this poor child should ever know into what a pit I have allowed myself to be led, how can I ever look her in the face again?”

“It would kill her for you to be taken away, to be punished, perhaps, for that which you could hardly help.”

“No, she would soon forget.”

“And I should soon forget?” said Lady Graeme reproachfully.

Sir Risdon turned to her wildly, as she laid her head upon his breast.

“If you were taken from us, it would kill me too,” she said tenderly; and then in silence, they bore their insensible child into the forbidding-looking house.

Chapter Nine.“Think we’ve done right, my lad?” said Gurr, after they had half way descended the slope.“Yes, of course. How could we search the house of a gentleman like that?”“Oh, easy enough.”“It was impossible.”“But suppose, after all, he has got all the stuff hid away. Some men’s very artful, as you’ll find out some day. Oughtn’t we to go back?”He paused as he said these words, and then laid his hand firmly on Archy’s shoulder.“I didn’t tell you,” he said, “what I saw when I went back to the farm.”“No! What?” cried the midshipman eagerly.“That old chap having a glass of real smuggled spirits.”“How do you know it was?”“Because I tasted it. No mistake about that, I can tell you. Then he was very eager to get me to go up yonder, and that looks bad. He knows all about it.”“Nonsense! If he knew that the smuggled goods were up there he wouldn’t send us to find them.”“How do you know? That may have been his artfulness, to keep us from searching. If he’d as good as said don’t go up there, and tried to stop us, we should have gone at once.”“But we can’t go back and search, Gurr. Suppose we did go and ransacked the place, and hurt everybody’s feelings, and then found nothing, what should we look like then?”“Silly,” said the master laconically, and for a time he was silent, marching on behind the men. “All comes of being sent on such dooty,” he burst out with. “It isn’t right to send gentlemen and officers to do such dirty work. I’ve been ashamed of myself ever since I’ve been on the cutter. Hallo! Here’s the farmer again.”For they had suddenly come upon Shackle driving an old grey horse before him as if going on some farming business, and he started apparently from a fit of musing as he came abreast.“Ah, gentlemen,” he said; “going back?”“Yes,” said Gurr smartly.“Found the stuff?”“No.”“I say.”“Well?”“Are you sure there was anything landed there last night?”“Of course we are.”“Oh, I didn’t know. Good day, gentlemen, good day.”He went on after his horse chuckling to himself, while the search party made for the track to get back to the cove and row back.But before they were half way there, Archy who had been thinking deeply, suddenly said to Gurr—“I say, though, isn’t he right?”“What about, my lad?”“Are we sure that a cargo was landed last night?”“Didn’t you and the skipper find three kegs?”“Yes, but they might have been there a month ago.”“Why, of course, my lad. Here, let’s go and tell the skipper so. How I do hate being sent upon a wild-goose chase like this!”The rest of the journey to the cove was performed almost in silence; they then embarked, heartily tired with their walk, and ready enough to take the rest of the burden of their journey on their hands and arms by rowing steadily and well, the tide being in their favour.“Yes, I do hate these jobs,” said the master after a long silence. “See that the people was nodding and winking to one another as we went by their cottages?”“Yes, I did see something of the kind once or twice,” replied Archy.“Laughing at us, and knowing we should find out nothing, while they knew all the time.”The first thing plainly visible as the boat approached the cutter was the head of Tally gazing contemplatively at them over the side, as if anxious to know what news there was from home, and directly after Ram and Jemmy looked over in a quiet stolid way, as if not troubled in the least by the fact that they were prisoners.“Well, Mr Raystoke,” cried the lieutenant, as the young midshipman sprang over the side; “found the cargo and left two men in charge, eh?”“No, sir.”“Tut—tut—tut! What is the use of having you for my first officer. You ought to have searched everywhere, and found it.”“We did search everywhere, sir, nearly, but didn’t find it.”“Oh! What’s that? Nearly? Then where didn’t you search?”Archy told him and his reasons.“Humph! Ha! Well, I don’t know: Government has no bowels of compassion, Mr Raystoke. I’m afraid you ought to have searched the Gloves.”“Hoze, sir, Hoze.”“Oh well, gloves, hose, gloves, all the same; only one’s for downstairs, the other up. Stupid name for a place.”“You think, then, I haven’t done my duty, sir.”“Yes, Mr Raystoke, as an officer I do; but as a gentleman I’m afraid I think I should have done just the same.”“I’m very sorry, sir. I wanted to do what is right.”“And you let your amiability step in the way, sir. That cargo must be run to earth.”“But is it quite certain, sir, that there was a cargo run?”“My good fellow,” cried the little lieutenant impatiently, “if you found a skin lying on the beach, wouldn’t you feel sure that it had once had a sheep in it?”“Yes, sir, if it was a sheepskin.”“Bah! Don’t try to chop logic here; go below and get something to eat, while I make up my mind what I shall do.”Archy went into the cabin, not at all satisfied with the result of his run ashore, and he did not feel much better after his meal, when he went on deck just in time to find the lieutenant laying down the law to Ram and Jemmy Dadd.“There,” he was saying, “take your cow and go ashore. I’m not going to keep you prisoners, but the eye of the law is upon you, and this smuggling will be brought home to you both. Be off!”“Shan’t Jemmy milk the cow again before we go?” said Ram, with a grin, that might have been friendly or mocking.“No!” thundered the lieutenant. “Here, Mr Gurr, see these smuggling scoundrels off the deck.”This was soon done, the cow being easily got into the boat, and just as it was growing dark Ram stood up to push from the side.“I say,” he cried again, addressing Archy, “is that thing sharp?”The midshipman did not condescend to answer, but stood gazing thoughtfully over the side, till the boat gradually seemed to die away in the faint mist of the coming night.“Well, Raystoke, what are you thinking?” said a voice behind him, and he started round.“I was just thinking of coming to you, sir.”“Eh, what for?”“It seems to me, sir, that if that cargo was run, and is hidden anywhere near, they’ll be moving it to-night.”“Of course. Raystoke, you’ll be a great man some day. I shouldn’t have thought of that. Well, what do you propose?”“To go ashore, and watch.”“Of course. My dear boy, if you can help me to capture a few of these wretched people, I shall get promoted to a better ship, and you shall come with me. I won’t rest till I am post-captain, and as soon as you can pass, you shall be my lieutenant. There, select your crew and be off at once.”“No, sir; that will not do. They’ll be on the watch, and if they see a boat’s crew land, they’ll do nothing to-night.”“Then what do you propose?”“Don’t laugh at me, sir, and call me stupid; but I’ve been thinking that if I could be set ashore, dressed as one of the boys, I might go about unnoticed. And if they were moving the cargo, I could see where they took it, and then you could land the men.”“Oh, you’ll be an admiral before I shall, boy. That’s it; but will you do it?”“If you’ll let me, sir.”“Let you? Here, Mr Gurr, help Mr Raystoke, and—stop though; I don’t think I can let you go alone, my lad.”“If I don’t go alone, sir, it’s of no use.”“You are right. Then we’ll risk it; but if the smugglers kill you, don’t come and blame me. Have the boat ready, Mr Gurr. Here, Raystoke, come down into the cabin at once.”

“Think we’ve done right, my lad?” said Gurr, after they had half way descended the slope.

“Yes, of course. How could we search the house of a gentleman like that?”

“Oh, easy enough.”

“It was impossible.”

“But suppose, after all, he has got all the stuff hid away. Some men’s very artful, as you’ll find out some day. Oughtn’t we to go back?”

He paused as he said these words, and then laid his hand firmly on Archy’s shoulder.

“I didn’t tell you,” he said, “what I saw when I went back to the farm.”

“No! What?” cried the midshipman eagerly.

“That old chap having a glass of real smuggled spirits.”

“How do you know it was?”

“Because I tasted it. No mistake about that, I can tell you. Then he was very eager to get me to go up yonder, and that looks bad. He knows all about it.”

“Nonsense! If he knew that the smuggled goods were up there he wouldn’t send us to find them.”

“How do you know? That may have been his artfulness, to keep us from searching. If he’d as good as said don’t go up there, and tried to stop us, we should have gone at once.”

“But we can’t go back and search, Gurr. Suppose we did go and ransacked the place, and hurt everybody’s feelings, and then found nothing, what should we look like then?”

“Silly,” said the master laconically, and for a time he was silent, marching on behind the men. “All comes of being sent on such dooty,” he burst out with. “It isn’t right to send gentlemen and officers to do such dirty work. I’ve been ashamed of myself ever since I’ve been on the cutter. Hallo! Here’s the farmer again.”

For they had suddenly come upon Shackle driving an old grey horse before him as if going on some farming business, and he started apparently from a fit of musing as he came abreast.

“Ah, gentlemen,” he said; “going back?”

“Yes,” said Gurr smartly.

“Found the stuff?”

“No.”

“I say.”

“Well?”

“Are you sure there was anything landed there last night?”

“Of course we are.”

“Oh, I didn’t know. Good day, gentlemen, good day.”

He went on after his horse chuckling to himself, while the search party made for the track to get back to the cove and row back.

But before they were half way there, Archy who had been thinking deeply, suddenly said to Gurr—

“I say, though, isn’t he right?”

“What about, my lad?”

“Are we sure that a cargo was landed last night?”

“Didn’t you and the skipper find three kegs?”

“Yes, but they might have been there a month ago.”

“Why, of course, my lad. Here, let’s go and tell the skipper so. How I do hate being sent upon a wild-goose chase like this!”

The rest of the journey to the cove was performed almost in silence; they then embarked, heartily tired with their walk, and ready enough to take the rest of the burden of their journey on their hands and arms by rowing steadily and well, the tide being in their favour.

“Yes, I do hate these jobs,” said the master after a long silence. “See that the people was nodding and winking to one another as we went by their cottages?”

“Yes, I did see something of the kind once or twice,” replied Archy.

“Laughing at us, and knowing we should find out nothing, while they knew all the time.”

The first thing plainly visible as the boat approached the cutter was the head of Tally gazing contemplatively at them over the side, as if anxious to know what news there was from home, and directly after Ram and Jemmy looked over in a quiet stolid way, as if not troubled in the least by the fact that they were prisoners.

“Well, Mr Raystoke,” cried the lieutenant, as the young midshipman sprang over the side; “found the cargo and left two men in charge, eh?”

“No, sir.”

“Tut—tut—tut! What is the use of having you for my first officer. You ought to have searched everywhere, and found it.”

“We did search everywhere, sir, nearly, but didn’t find it.”

“Oh! What’s that? Nearly? Then where didn’t you search?”

Archy told him and his reasons.

“Humph! Ha! Well, I don’t know: Government has no bowels of compassion, Mr Raystoke. I’m afraid you ought to have searched the Gloves.”

“Hoze, sir, Hoze.”

“Oh well, gloves, hose, gloves, all the same; only one’s for downstairs, the other up. Stupid name for a place.”

“You think, then, I haven’t done my duty, sir.”

“Yes, Mr Raystoke, as an officer I do; but as a gentleman I’m afraid I think I should have done just the same.”

“I’m very sorry, sir. I wanted to do what is right.”

“And you let your amiability step in the way, sir. That cargo must be run to earth.”

“But is it quite certain, sir, that there was a cargo run?”

“My good fellow,” cried the little lieutenant impatiently, “if you found a skin lying on the beach, wouldn’t you feel sure that it had once had a sheep in it?”

“Yes, sir, if it was a sheepskin.”

“Bah! Don’t try to chop logic here; go below and get something to eat, while I make up my mind what I shall do.”

Archy went into the cabin, not at all satisfied with the result of his run ashore, and he did not feel much better after his meal, when he went on deck just in time to find the lieutenant laying down the law to Ram and Jemmy Dadd.

“There,” he was saying, “take your cow and go ashore. I’m not going to keep you prisoners, but the eye of the law is upon you, and this smuggling will be brought home to you both. Be off!”

“Shan’t Jemmy milk the cow again before we go?” said Ram, with a grin, that might have been friendly or mocking.

“No!” thundered the lieutenant. “Here, Mr Gurr, see these smuggling scoundrels off the deck.”

This was soon done, the cow being easily got into the boat, and just as it was growing dark Ram stood up to push from the side.

“I say,” he cried again, addressing Archy, “is that thing sharp?”

The midshipman did not condescend to answer, but stood gazing thoughtfully over the side, till the boat gradually seemed to die away in the faint mist of the coming night.

“Well, Raystoke, what are you thinking?” said a voice behind him, and he started round.

“I was just thinking of coming to you, sir.”

“Eh, what for?”

“It seems to me, sir, that if that cargo was run, and is hidden anywhere near, they’ll be moving it to-night.”

“Of course. Raystoke, you’ll be a great man some day. I shouldn’t have thought of that. Well, what do you propose?”

“To go ashore, and watch.”

“Of course. My dear boy, if you can help me to capture a few of these wretched people, I shall get promoted to a better ship, and you shall come with me. I won’t rest till I am post-captain, and as soon as you can pass, you shall be my lieutenant. There, select your crew and be off at once.”

“No, sir; that will not do. They’ll be on the watch, and if they see a boat’s crew land, they’ll do nothing to-night.”

“Then what do you propose?”

“Don’t laugh at me, sir, and call me stupid; but I’ve been thinking that if I could be set ashore, dressed as one of the boys, I might go about unnoticed. And if they were moving the cargo, I could see where they took it, and then you could land the men.”

“Oh, you’ll be an admiral before I shall, boy. That’s it; but will you do it?”

“If you’ll let me, sir.”

“Let you? Here, Mr Gurr, help Mr Raystoke, and—stop though; I don’t think I can let you go alone, my lad.”

“If I don’t go alone, sir, it’s of no use.”

“You are right. Then we’ll risk it; but if the smugglers kill you, don’t come and blame me. Have the boat ready, Mr Gurr. Here, Raystoke, come down into the cabin at once.”

Back to IndexNext