Chapter Thirty Eight.The discovery of the way through the cliff made clear to Archy several matters connected with the appearance and disappearance of Ram and his companion with the boat, for upon more than one occasion it had seemed impossible that they could have rowed six miles to the cove and come back again. And, excited as the midshipman was, these ideas occurred to him while running along over the top of the down-like cliff.On looking back beyond the first boat’s crew, the head of the second crew could be seen as they reached the top of the zigzag path, where the boatswain waited till the last man was up, and then gave the word for them to double after their fellows.Seeing that he was so well supported, the master felt that he was ready for any force the smugglers might have to back them up, and, turning to Archy, he suggested that the midshipman should point out the way into the smugglers’ cave, and then leave them to do the work.“It will be time enough to talk about that, Mr Gurr,” said Archy rather breathlessly, “when we have found the place.”“But I thought you had found it, my lad!”“After the tricks played us, I shall not be certain until I see you all right in the cave.”“But you think it’s close here?”“Yes; unless I am quite wrong, the old quarry is in that great cliff where the grass runs right up to the edge.”“Then if it’s there, and those fellows have gone in, we’ll find the way, and go in too.”“Oh!” ejaculated Archy, stopping short.“What’s the matter, lad?—hurt?”“No. The place is dark as pitch, and we have no lights.”“Then we’ll strike some with our pistol locks, and set fire to some wood. Never mind the lights. If it’s light enough for them, it will be light enough for us, lad. Let’s find the way in, and that will be enough. They won’t show fight. Let’s get on, and we shall be marching them all out tied two and two before they’re much older.”The party kept on along the rugged undulating top of the cliffs, till, after a careful inspection in all directions, Archy declared that they must now be over the cavern.The second boat’s crew had overtaken them now, and, upon receiving this information, the master spread his men out a few yards apart, to sweep the ground after the fashion observed on the previous night.“You must find it now, my lads,” he said. “I should say what you’ve got to look for is a hole pretty well grown over with green stuff right up at the end of a bit of a gully, and looking as if no one had been there for a hundred years.”“Yes, something like the mouths of the old quarries we have seen,” added Archy.“Then there’s something of the sort down yonder,” cried Dick, pointing to a spot where the ground seemed to have sunk down.“Yes,” cried Archy eagerly; “and that’s the place. Look here, Mr Gurr.”“What at, my lad?”“The grass.”“Well, we want to find smugglers, not grass, my lad.”“Yes, but don’t you see that some one has gone over here lately. The dew is all brushed off, and you can see the footmarks.”“I can’t, my lad. Perhaps you can with your young eyes.”“Oh, it’s all right,” growled the boatswain.“Keep a sharp look-out, then, and mind no one gets by.”The little force advanced, with the men spread out to right and left, the officers in the centre, following the trail which led right to the gully-like depression, once doubtless a well-worn track, but now completely smoothed over and grass-grown; and there, sure enough, as discovered only a short time before by Celia, was the scooped-out hollow filled with fern, bramble, and wild clematis, and the rough steps down, and the archway dimly seen beyond the loose stones.“Halt!” cried the master; and, after a careful inspection had shown that the footprints in the dewy grass had gone no farther than the entrance, the men were called up, and stood round the pit.There it all was, exactly as Archy had pictured it in his own mind: the loose stones at the bottom of the hole covering, he was sure, the trap-door he had so often heard opened and shut; but, as he went down a few steps in his eagerness, and scanned the place, he was puzzled and disappointed; for the trap-door, if that was the spot where it lay, was covered, and therefore the men could not be in the cave.“Bad job we’ve got no lanthorns,” said Gurr, who was looking over Archy’s shoulder at the low-browed arch of the passage leading right in; “and it looks bad travelling, but in we’ve got to go if they won’t surrender. Let me go first, my lad.”For answer the midshipman went down to the bottom of the rough steps, and stood over the trap-door on the loose stones.“No, no, my lad,” said Gurr kindly, as he joined him. “Too rough a job for you. I’ll lead, and, hang it! I shall have to crawl. Not very good work for one’s clothes. Come along, my lads. You, Mr Raystoke, and four men stop back, and form the reserve, to take prisoner any one who tries to escape.”The men descended till every step was occupied, the little force extending from top to bottom.“Stop a minute, Mr Gurr. Let the bo’s’n guard the entry here; I must go with you to act as guide.”“It aren’t all passage, then, like this?”“No; it’s a great open place supported by pillars, big enough to lose yourselves in. But stop; that can’t be the way, sir.”“Oh, hang it all, my lad!” cried the master in disappointed tones. “Don’t say that.”“But I do,” cried Archy. “There ought to be a trap-door covered with stones leading down a place like a well.”“Yes; that’s what we’ve come down.”“No, no, another. I think it was down here.”He stamped his foot on the loose stones, and then uttered a cry of joy, for there was a curious hollow sound, and on stooping down he pulled away some of the great shaley fragments, and laid bare a rough plank with a bolt partly visible.“Right! Got ’em at last,” cried Gurr. “Clear off more stones, my lads. No; stop!” he said.“Yes, I know what you are thinking, Mr Gurr,” said Archy. “The men couldn’t have shut themselves in there.”“Course not, my lad. But you are right, that’s the way down to their curiosity shop, and they’re hiding in this hole here.”Then, thrusting in his head, and holding on by the rugged stones, he shouted into the hollow passage,—“Now then, my lads, out you come!”A pause.“D’yer hear? The game’s up, and if you don’t come out quietly, we shall have to fetch you out on the rough.”Still no reply.“Come, come, my lads, no nonsense! Surrender. I don’t want to use pistols and cutlashes to Englishmen. You know the game’s up. Surrender.”Still no reply.“I don’t think that hole goes in far, Mr Raystoke,” whispered the master. “There’s no echo like, and it sounds smothered.” Then aloud,—“Now, then, is it surrender? Oh, very well; I’ve got some nice little round messengers to send in after you.”He drew a pistol from his belt and cocked it, winking at Archy as he did so. “Now, then, once—twice—fire!”He pointed the mouth of the pistol downward, and drew the trigger, and in the semi-darkness below the overhanging brambles and clematis there was a dull flash, the report sounded smothered, and the place was filled with the dank, heavy-scented smoke.“There’s precious little room in there,” whispered the master. “If there’d been much of it, we should have heard the sound go rolling along instead of coming back like a slap in the face. Here, one of you, reload that. You, Dick, follow me. If they show fight, you come on next, bo’s’n, with the whole of your boat’s crew.”“Ay, ay, sir.”“Hi! In there. Do you surrender?”There was not a sound, and, after a momentary pause, the master spat in his fist, gripped his cutlass, went down on all fours, after driving his hat on tightly, and crawled into the hole, followed by Dick.“Keep a cheery heart on it, lad,” said one of the men just before to Dick. “We’ll fetch you out and bury you at sea.”Dick drove his elbow into the man’s chest for an answer, grinned as he felt the point of his cutlass, and dived into the hole, while the boatswain and his men stood waiting eagerly, ready to plunge forward at the first sound of a scuffle.Archy peered in at the dark passage, his heart beating as he listened to the noise made by the two men crawling in, and the last of the two had hardly disappeared when there was a shout, a scuffle, and the boatswain plunged in.“All right!” they heard Gurr say. “I’ve got him. Hold still, you varmint, or I’ll cut your ears off. Here, Dick, get by me, and go forrard if you can.”There was more scuffling, and the rattle of a stone or two, as the listeners pictured in their own minds the man squeezing past the master and his prisoner, and then Dick’s voice came out in a half smothered way:“Can’t get no farther. All choked-up.”“All right, then, but make sure.”“Oh, I’m sure enough,” said Dick. “It’s all a stopper here.”“Then out you come, my lad,” said the master; and the next minute his legs were seed as he backed out, dragging evidently some one after him who was resisting.“Here, Dick,” came in smothered tones.“Ay, ay, sir.”“Says he won’t come. If he gives me any more of his nonsense, touch him up behind with the pynte of your cutlash.”“Ay, ay, sir.”“Yah! Cowards!” came in angry tones.“Ram!” exclaimed Archy, as the boy, looking hot and fierce, was dragged out by the master, to stand looking round him as fiercely as a wild cat.“Hullo!” cried Archy. “It’s my turn now, Ram;” but he repented his words directly, as he saw the reproachful look the boy darted at him. Then he forgot all directly, as he exclaimed,—“I see, Mr Gurr, I see! The smugglers are down here after all, and they left this boy behind to fasten the door, and cover it over with stones.”Unable to contain himself, Ram thoroughly endorsed the midshipman’s words by giving an angry stamp upon the bottom of the hole.“That’s it!” cried Gurr. “Here, chuck these stones into the passage, my lads;” and the rough trap-door was laid bare, the two bolts by which it was secured were seen to be unfastened, and the lock unshot.“No way out, Mr Raystoke, is there?”“No.”“Then we’ve got ’em trapped safe this time,” said Gurr, as the door was thrown open. “Bad job we’ve no lanthorns; but never mind, my lads. If they won’t surrender, you must feel your way with the pyntes of your toothpicks.”There was a murmur of excitement among the men, and then Gurr leaned down over the hole, put his hand to his mouth, and shouted,—“Below there! In the King’s name—surrender!”His words went rolling and echoing through the place, but there was no reply.“Once more, my lads, to save bloodshed, will you surrender?”No reply.“Very well. It’s your fault, my lads, and very onsensible. Bo’s’n, it’s a big place, and I shall want all my men. You’re all right here; with one you ought to be able to hold this.”“And the prisoner?”“No; we’ll take him with us. Here, lash his hands behind him, and tie his legs together. We’ll lay him down to have a nap somewhere yonder down below. That’s right,” he continued, as a man produced a piece of line, and firmly secured the boy, who was lowered down to one of the men who had descended, laid on the stones in a corner at the bottom; and then, after giving the word to be ready, Gurr braced himself up.“You’ll stop aside me, Mr Raystoke, and try and guide.”“Yes, sir.”“You understand, bo’s’n, down with the first who tries to escape up the hole here.”“Ay, ay.”“Then, now, forward!” cried Gurr; and, closely followed by Archy and his men, he descended into the old quarry, and then stood listening at the top of the slope, before preparing to advance into the enemy-peopled darkness right ahead.
The discovery of the way through the cliff made clear to Archy several matters connected with the appearance and disappearance of Ram and his companion with the boat, for upon more than one occasion it had seemed impossible that they could have rowed six miles to the cove and come back again. And, excited as the midshipman was, these ideas occurred to him while running along over the top of the down-like cliff.
On looking back beyond the first boat’s crew, the head of the second crew could be seen as they reached the top of the zigzag path, where the boatswain waited till the last man was up, and then gave the word for them to double after their fellows.
Seeing that he was so well supported, the master felt that he was ready for any force the smugglers might have to back them up, and, turning to Archy, he suggested that the midshipman should point out the way into the smugglers’ cave, and then leave them to do the work.
“It will be time enough to talk about that, Mr Gurr,” said Archy rather breathlessly, “when we have found the place.”
“But I thought you had found it, my lad!”
“After the tricks played us, I shall not be certain until I see you all right in the cave.”
“But you think it’s close here?”
“Yes; unless I am quite wrong, the old quarry is in that great cliff where the grass runs right up to the edge.”
“Then if it’s there, and those fellows have gone in, we’ll find the way, and go in too.”
“Oh!” ejaculated Archy, stopping short.
“What’s the matter, lad?—hurt?”
“No. The place is dark as pitch, and we have no lights.”
“Then we’ll strike some with our pistol locks, and set fire to some wood. Never mind the lights. If it’s light enough for them, it will be light enough for us, lad. Let’s find the way in, and that will be enough. They won’t show fight. Let’s get on, and we shall be marching them all out tied two and two before they’re much older.”
The party kept on along the rugged undulating top of the cliffs, till, after a careful inspection in all directions, Archy declared that they must now be over the cavern.
The second boat’s crew had overtaken them now, and, upon receiving this information, the master spread his men out a few yards apart, to sweep the ground after the fashion observed on the previous night.
“You must find it now, my lads,” he said. “I should say what you’ve got to look for is a hole pretty well grown over with green stuff right up at the end of a bit of a gully, and looking as if no one had been there for a hundred years.”
“Yes, something like the mouths of the old quarries we have seen,” added Archy.
“Then there’s something of the sort down yonder,” cried Dick, pointing to a spot where the ground seemed to have sunk down.
“Yes,” cried Archy eagerly; “and that’s the place. Look here, Mr Gurr.”
“What at, my lad?”
“The grass.”
“Well, we want to find smugglers, not grass, my lad.”
“Yes, but don’t you see that some one has gone over here lately. The dew is all brushed off, and you can see the footmarks.”
“I can’t, my lad. Perhaps you can with your young eyes.”
“Oh, it’s all right,” growled the boatswain.
“Keep a sharp look-out, then, and mind no one gets by.”
The little force advanced, with the men spread out to right and left, the officers in the centre, following the trail which led right to the gully-like depression, once doubtless a well-worn track, but now completely smoothed over and grass-grown; and there, sure enough, as discovered only a short time before by Celia, was the scooped-out hollow filled with fern, bramble, and wild clematis, and the rough steps down, and the archway dimly seen beyond the loose stones.
“Halt!” cried the master; and, after a careful inspection had shown that the footprints in the dewy grass had gone no farther than the entrance, the men were called up, and stood round the pit.
There it all was, exactly as Archy had pictured it in his own mind: the loose stones at the bottom of the hole covering, he was sure, the trap-door he had so often heard opened and shut; but, as he went down a few steps in his eagerness, and scanned the place, he was puzzled and disappointed; for the trap-door, if that was the spot where it lay, was covered, and therefore the men could not be in the cave.
“Bad job we’ve got no lanthorns,” said Gurr, who was looking over Archy’s shoulder at the low-browed arch of the passage leading right in; “and it looks bad travelling, but in we’ve got to go if they won’t surrender. Let me go first, my lad.”
For answer the midshipman went down to the bottom of the rough steps, and stood over the trap-door on the loose stones.
“No, no, my lad,” said Gurr kindly, as he joined him. “Too rough a job for you. I’ll lead, and, hang it! I shall have to crawl. Not very good work for one’s clothes. Come along, my lads. You, Mr Raystoke, and four men stop back, and form the reserve, to take prisoner any one who tries to escape.”
The men descended till every step was occupied, the little force extending from top to bottom.
“Stop a minute, Mr Gurr. Let the bo’s’n guard the entry here; I must go with you to act as guide.”
“It aren’t all passage, then, like this?”
“No; it’s a great open place supported by pillars, big enough to lose yourselves in. But stop; that can’t be the way, sir.”
“Oh, hang it all, my lad!” cried the master in disappointed tones. “Don’t say that.”
“But I do,” cried Archy. “There ought to be a trap-door covered with stones leading down a place like a well.”
“Yes; that’s what we’ve come down.”
“No, no, another. I think it was down here.”
He stamped his foot on the loose stones, and then uttered a cry of joy, for there was a curious hollow sound, and on stooping down he pulled away some of the great shaley fragments, and laid bare a rough plank with a bolt partly visible.
“Right! Got ’em at last,” cried Gurr. “Clear off more stones, my lads. No; stop!” he said.
“Yes, I know what you are thinking, Mr Gurr,” said Archy. “The men couldn’t have shut themselves in there.”
“Course not, my lad. But you are right, that’s the way down to their curiosity shop, and they’re hiding in this hole here.”
Then, thrusting in his head, and holding on by the rugged stones, he shouted into the hollow passage,—
“Now then, my lads, out you come!”
A pause.
“D’yer hear? The game’s up, and if you don’t come out quietly, we shall have to fetch you out on the rough.”
Still no reply.
“Come, come, my lads, no nonsense! Surrender. I don’t want to use pistols and cutlashes to Englishmen. You know the game’s up. Surrender.”
Still no reply.
“I don’t think that hole goes in far, Mr Raystoke,” whispered the master. “There’s no echo like, and it sounds smothered.” Then aloud,—
“Now, then, is it surrender? Oh, very well; I’ve got some nice little round messengers to send in after you.”
He drew a pistol from his belt and cocked it, winking at Archy as he did so. “Now, then, once—twice—fire!”
He pointed the mouth of the pistol downward, and drew the trigger, and in the semi-darkness below the overhanging brambles and clematis there was a dull flash, the report sounded smothered, and the place was filled with the dank, heavy-scented smoke.
“There’s precious little room in there,” whispered the master. “If there’d been much of it, we should have heard the sound go rolling along instead of coming back like a slap in the face. Here, one of you, reload that. You, Dick, follow me. If they show fight, you come on next, bo’s’n, with the whole of your boat’s crew.”
“Ay, ay, sir.”
“Hi! In there. Do you surrender?”
There was not a sound, and, after a momentary pause, the master spat in his fist, gripped his cutlass, went down on all fours, after driving his hat on tightly, and crawled into the hole, followed by Dick.
“Keep a cheery heart on it, lad,” said one of the men just before to Dick. “We’ll fetch you out and bury you at sea.”
Dick drove his elbow into the man’s chest for an answer, grinned as he felt the point of his cutlass, and dived into the hole, while the boatswain and his men stood waiting eagerly, ready to plunge forward at the first sound of a scuffle.
Archy peered in at the dark passage, his heart beating as he listened to the noise made by the two men crawling in, and the last of the two had hardly disappeared when there was a shout, a scuffle, and the boatswain plunged in.
“All right!” they heard Gurr say. “I’ve got him. Hold still, you varmint, or I’ll cut your ears off. Here, Dick, get by me, and go forrard if you can.”
There was more scuffling, and the rattle of a stone or two, as the listeners pictured in their own minds the man squeezing past the master and his prisoner, and then Dick’s voice came out in a half smothered way:
“Can’t get no farther. All choked-up.”
“All right, then, but make sure.”
“Oh, I’m sure enough,” said Dick. “It’s all a stopper here.”
“Then out you come, my lad,” said the master; and the next minute his legs were seed as he backed out, dragging evidently some one after him who was resisting.
“Here, Dick,” came in smothered tones.
“Ay, ay, sir.”
“Says he won’t come. If he gives me any more of his nonsense, touch him up behind with the pynte of your cutlash.”
“Ay, ay, sir.”
“Yah! Cowards!” came in angry tones.
“Ram!” exclaimed Archy, as the boy, looking hot and fierce, was dragged out by the master, to stand looking round him as fiercely as a wild cat.
“Hullo!” cried Archy. “It’s my turn now, Ram;” but he repented his words directly, as he saw the reproachful look the boy darted at him. Then he forgot all directly, as he exclaimed,—
“I see, Mr Gurr, I see! The smugglers are down here after all, and they left this boy behind to fasten the door, and cover it over with stones.”
Unable to contain himself, Ram thoroughly endorsed the midshipman’s words by giving an angry stamp upon the bottom of the hole.
“That’s it!” cried Gurr. “Here, chuck these stones into the passage, my lads;” and the rough trap-door was laid bare, the two bolts by which it was secured were seen to be unfastened, and the lock unshot.
“No way out, Mr Raystoke, is there?”
“No.”
“Then we’ve got ’em trapped safe this time,” said Gurr, as the door was thrown open. “Bad job we’ve no lanthorns; but never mind, my lads. If they won’t surrender, you must feel your way with the pyntes of your toothpicks.”
There was a murmur of excitement among the men, and then Gurr leaned down over the hole, put his hand to his mouth, and shouted,—
“Below there! In the King’s name—surrender!”
His words went rolling and echoing through the place, but there was no reply.
“Once more, my lads, to save bloodshed, will you surrender?”
No reply.
“Very well. It’s your fault, my lads, and very onsensible. Bo’s’n, it’s a big place, and I shall want all my men. You’re all right here; with one you ought to be able to hold this.”
“And the prisoner?”
“No; we’ll take him with us. Here, lash his hands behind him, and tie his legs together. We’ll lay him down to have a nap somewhere yonder down below. That’s right,” he continued, as a man produced a piece of line, and firmly secured the boy, who was lowered down to one of the men who had descended, laid on the stones in a corner at the bottom; and then, after giving the word to be ready, Gurr braced himself up.
“You’ll stop aside me, Mr Raystoke, and try and guide.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You understand, bo’s’n, down with the first who tries to escape up the hole here.”
“Ay, ay.”
“Then, now, forward!” cried Gurr; and, closely followed by Archy and his men, he descended into the old quarry, and then stood listening at the top of the slope, before preparing to advance into the enemy-peopled darkness right ahead.
Chapter Thirty Nine.Archy felt his heart throb as he led the way down the slope, every step of which seemed so familiar that he advanced without hesitation, the knowledge of how many sturdy men he had at his back keeping away the natural shrinking which under other circumstances he might have felt.“Halt!” said the master suddenly, and then in a whisper to his guide, “Strikes me as they’ll have the best of it if they should fight, my lad.”“Not much,” replied Archy; “it’s as dark for them as it is for us, so that they can’t take us at a disadvantage. Call on them to surrender again.”“Ay, to be sure,” cried the master; and once more he summoned the smugglers to give in.There was not a sound to suggest that his orders were heard.“Don’t know what to do, my lad,” whispered the master again. “If we go forward, we’re leaving the way open for the enemy to attack the watch at the entrance, and we don’t want that. Are you sure they’re here?”“I feel certain of it,” said Archy in the same low tone. “They must be, but they’re hiding, so as to try to escape, or else to take us at a disadvantage.”“Well,” said Gurr, “let them. So long as they come out and fight fair, I don’t care what they do. Here, four of you stop here; Dick, take command. We’ll go forward and turn the enemy, and try to take them in the rear. Stand fast if they come at you; no pistols, but use your cutlasses. We shall come up to you at the least sound, to help.”The men uttered a low, “Ay, ay, sir,” speaking as if they were oppressed by the darkness, and the master whispered.“Now, my lad,” he said, “try and give us the shape of the place like.”Archy obeyed, and explained where the smugglers’ stores lay, and the pile of little kegs, if they had not been moved, the place where he had slept, and the positions of the huge pillars and heaps of broken stones.“And you was shut up here all that time, and didn’t go mad!” said Gurr. “Well, you are a wonder! Tell you what, my lad, I should just like to make sure that those brandy kegs are still here, and then I think we’ll be off, and come back with lights. There’s no one here but ourselves. Place isn’t big enough for any one to be hiding without our hearing them?”“Plenty, Mr Gurr,” said Archy firmly; “and I am sure they are here; but it is impossible to search without lights. They may be hiding behind the pillars or piles of stone. Have lights got as soon as possible, and then we can come and make them prisoners.”All this was said in a hurried whisper, as the two stood together in front of their men, and in absolute darkness, for they had advanced into the place far enough for the faint light which filtered down from the trap-door to be completely lost.“Yes; but I’d like to be able to tell the skipper that we have got something in the way of a prize for the men. Can you lead us to it, my lad?”“But you couldn’t take it away.”“Well, we might carry one keg aboard, as a sample. Now then, where will it be from here?”“Give me your hand, and I’ll lead you right to it.”“There you are. Take care how you go. Can you keep close behind us, my lads? Better join hands. Now then, are you ready?”“Ay, ay,” came in a low murmur; and, grasping the master’s hand, Archy led on, fully believing that the smugglers were still there, but feeling that they would keep in hiding, and try to escape when they were gone.“Say, my lad,” whispered the master, “I pity you—I do from my soul. Think of you being shut up all alone in a place like this! Hah! Look out!”The order was needless, for the smugglers gave every one warning to do that.One moment the King’s men were advancing cautiously through the darkness, the next, without a sound to warn them, there was a rush; blows fell thick and fast, cudgel striking head, cutlass, shoulder, anything that opposed the advance; and in less time than it takes to describe the encounter, the sailors were beaten down or aside, and the party of four, who were warned of what to expect by the noise in their front, advanced to the help of their friends, but only to be beaten down or aside by the gang which rushed at them.“Stop them, Dick. Down with them!” shouted the master, as soon as he could get on his feet. “Hi, Dick! Pass the word to the bo’s’n to look out. Here, Mr Raystoke! Hi, bo’s’n, down with that trap and make it fast. Mr Raystoke, I say, where are you? Which way is it? Who’s this?”“No, no, sir,” cried one of them; “it’s on’y me.”“Mr Gurr! Here!” cried Archy. “Where are you?”“At last. Where were you, then?”“On the stones, half stunned,” cried Archy. “Here, all get together and follow me.”“What are you going to do?”“Make for the trap-door—sharp! They’re fighting there.”“Oh, dear, who’d have thought it was this way!” grumbled the master. “Talk about blind man’s buff! Sure you’re going right, lad? Shall I fire a pistol to make a flash?”“No; I know.”“Hah!” cried Gurr, as an echoing bang ran through the great cavern. “Bravo, bo’s’n!”The bang was followed by a heavy rattling sound perfectly familiar to Archy, as he hurried the master along to the foot of the slope.“Are you all there?” cried Archy.“Yes,”—“No,”—“No,” came from different directions.“Then keep up this way, and be ready for another rush.”“Ay,” cried the master loudly; “and I warn you fellows now, I’d have treated you easy; but if you will have it, the word’s war, and a volley of bullets next time you come on.”“No, no, don’t fire! You’ll hit our own men,” whispered Archy, as he reached the top of the slope. “Ah! Who’s this?” he cried, as he nearly fell over a prostrate figure.“Steady, my lad, steady!”“Steady it is,” said another voice.“What, bo’s’n?”“Yes, sir, and me too. Oh, my head! How it bleeds!”“Why, what are you doing here?”“They came at us, sir, like mad bulls, and ’fore I knew where I was they had me. Pair o’ hands pops up out of the hole, takes hold of my legs, and I was pulled down, had a crack of the head, was danced on, and here I am, sir.”“And me too, sir,” said the other voice. “But, I’m much worse than him.”“But the smugglers?”“All seemed to come over us, sir; banged the door down, and they’ve been rattling big stones on it. There, you can hear ’em now.”In corroboration of the boatswain’s words, there was a dull thunderous sound overhead, as of great stones being thrown down over the trap-door, and all listened in silence for a time till the noise ceased.The silence was broken by Gurr, who suddenly roared out, as if he had only just grasped the position,—“Why, they’ve got away!”“Every man jack of ’em, sir, and they all walked over me.”“And they’ve shut us in!”“Yes, Mr Gurr,” said Archy sadly; “they’ve shut us in.”“But if they were here,” cried the master; “that’s what I wanted to do to them. I say, Mr Raystoke, you’ve done it now.”Half angry, half amused, but all the while smarting with the pain caused by a blow he had received, Archy remained silent, listening to the heavy breathing and muttering of his companions in misfortune. The sounds above ground had ceased, and it was evident that the smugglers had made good their escape.Again the silence was broken by the master, who raging with pain and mortification, exclaimed,—“Well, Mr Raystoke, sir, you know all about this place; which is the way out?”“Up above here, Mr Gurr, close to where we stand.”“Very well, sir; then why don’t you lead on?”“Because they have shut and fastened the trap, and heaped about a ton of stone upon it.”“Well, then, we must hack through the door with our cutlashes, and let the stone down.”“What’s that?” cried Archy excitedly,—“a light!”For there was a dull report and a flash of blue like lightning; and, running down the slope, the midshipman beheld that which sent a thrill of terror through him. For, away toward the far end of the cave, there was a great pool of flickering blue light; and, as it lit up the ceiling and the huge square stone supports of the place, he saw that which explained the meaning of what had seemed to be a wonderful phenomenon.There, beyond the flickering pool of blue and yellow flame, which was rapidly spreading in every direction, he could dimly see quite a wall of piled-up kegs, one of which lay right in the edge of the pool of fire, and suddenly exploded with a dull report, which blew the tongues of fire in all directions, half extinguishing them for the moment, but instantaneously flashing out again in a volume of fire, which quadrupled the size of the pool, and began to lick the sides of the kegs.“The wretches! They fired the spirits before they escaped,” cried Archy, who realised to the full what had been done; and, for the sake of our common humanity, let us say it must have been an act of vindictive spite, aimed only at the destruction of the proof spirit, so that it might not fall into the sailors’ hands—not intended to condemn them to a hideous death.“Back quick to the entrance! We must hack down that door,” roared Archy.“Ay, ay,” shouted the men, who the moment before were mad with terror, but who leaped at the command as if their safety were assured.“No, no!” shouted the midshipman, as a fresh keg exploded; and in the flash of flame which followed, the place glowed with a ghastly light.“Yes, sir, yes!” shouted the men.“I tell you no,” cried Archy; “we should be burned or suffocated long before we could get that open.”And, as in imagination he saw the men fighting and striving with one another to get to the trap-door, which remained obstinately closed, he clapped his hand on Mr Gurr’s shoulder.“I know another way,” he cried. “Follow me.”“Hurrah!” yelled the men, and the lad had taken a dozen steps toward the pool of fire, when a wild shout came from near the entrance.“All! Who’s that?” cried Archy, as he mentally saw a wounded man being left behind.“Don’t leave a poor fellow to be burnt to death, Mr Raystoke,” cried a familiar voice.“Ram!” cried Archy, running back to where the boy lay bound behind a pile of stones, forgotten for the time, and unheeded by his companions.“Yes, it’s me,” said the boy excitedly.“Quick! Get up. Can you walk?” said Archy, cutting him free.“Yes,” cried the lad.“Then come on!”“For the top passage,” whispered Ram. “That’s the only way now.”“Yes. Follow me.”The midshipman had hardly given the command when there was another explosion, a fresh flash of fire, which nearly reached them, and he saw beyond the dancing tongues of flame the black opening he sought.But this fresh explosion—one of which he knew scores must now rapidly follow—checked him for the moment, and he saw that Ram had disappeared.“It’s our only chance, my lads,” cried Archy. “Are you all ready?”“Ay, ay.”“Hold your breath, then, as you get to the fire, and follow me.”“Through that blaze, my lad?” whispered the master.“Yes. Don’t stop to talk. Now, then,” roared Archy, “come on!”“Hurrah!” cried the men wildly; and Archy dashed forward, but was thrown back, and had to retreat, as a fresh keg exploded and added to the size of the pool, now almost a river of fire many yards wide.“It’s now or never!” cried Archy frantically, and he rushed into the blue flames, which leaped about his feet and up as if to lick his face.A dozen strides, splashing up blue fire at every step, and he was through it, and where a faint current of cold air seemed to be meeting him.Almost as he reached the farther side, the men came leaping and yelling after him, to stand beating the tongues of fire from their feet and legs.Bang—bang—a couple more explosions, and the men crowded up to Archy, the master included, as if to ask what next.“Are you all here?”“Ay, ay, sir.”“And that boy?”“I’m here,” cried Ram. “Quick, before they all go off.”“Yes,” said Archy. “Forward!”He led the way into the darkness once more, but into an atmosphere which he could breathe. Then up the familiar way, with its rugged steps, and on to the newly mortared wall, with its loophole, through which the glorious light of day streamed.“Now, my lads, cutlasses here. That wall’s new. Four of you work, and loosen the stones, the others take them and throw them back below.”The men cheered, and, headed by Mr Gurr and Dick, worked as they had never worked before.The stones were hard to move at first, but it was child’s play compared to the toil through which the young midshipman had gone when he attacked the wall. First one yielded, then another, and, as they were dragged out, the men cheered, and passed them back to those down the rough steps.With every stone removed, hope strengthened the little party; but as the explosions followed fast, and the flames began to flicker and play up the passage in which they were penned, Archy closed his eyes for a few moments to mutter a prayer, for his thoughts were getting wild.Just then, he knew that some one else thought as he did, for a hand touched his arm, and a voice whispered,—“It wasn’t my fault. It must have been Jemmy Dadd. I say—case they can’t make a way out in time—shake hands once, mate. I do like you.”Something like a hysterical sob burst from the young midshipman’s breast at this; and, facing death as he was just then,—a horrible death which might follow at any moment,—the lad’s hand grasped that of his young gaoler—officer and smuggler, but both boys of one blood, who had fought each according to his lights.“Hah!” sighed Ram, as he gripped hard, and then let go. “Now, then, tell ’em to shove the stones, sharp, and let ’em fall out. Quick! Before the powder ketches.”“Powder?” said Archy in an awe-stricken whisper. “Yes; there’s a lot not far from the kegs.” The men cheered, as the fresh order was given, and a new set took the places of those who were growing weary, sending the stones out rapidly, till there was room for a man to creep through.“Here, Ram, you through first, and show them how to climb on the shelf.”“No, no, you lead, Mr Raystoke,” cried the master. “Silence, sir! I know what I’m doing,” yelled Archy. “Out with you, Ram.”The boy went through like a rabbit, passing something dark before him, and then rapidly one by one the men followed, with the flames roaring horribly now below, and explosion after explosion following quickly, the cave rapidly becoming a reservoir of fire.“Hurrah! That’s all,” cried Mr Gurr. “Now, Mr Raystoke.”“No, sir, you.”“I say you.”“And I—”Archy yielded to his superior in the expedition, crept out, and the master was following, and got stuck, but a fierce tug from a couple of the men set him free, and he had only just joined the two boats’ crews standing side by side on the shelf of rock, when the whole cliff seemed to shake; and, as if the passage they had left were some vast cannon, the artificial wall left was blown right out by an awful burst of flame, the stones hurtling down as if the end of the cliffs had come, and falling with a mighty splash into the chasm.The men stood white and awe-stricken, expecting the cliff to crumble away beneath them, but save that a stream of fire roared out of the opening, all was now still.Then, in the midst of the awe-inspiring silence, Ram spoke,—“I thought it wouldn’t be long before the powder caught;” and then, before any one could reply, the lad said quietly, “I didn’t want to be burnt to death. Better go to prison for smuggling. I say, I got this rope. Hadn’t we better make it fast somewhere, and then you can all get down to the big shelf? I’ll come last, and unfasten it.”“And then how will you get down?” said the master suspiciously.“Oh,” said Ram, laughing, “I can climb down; can’t I, orficer?”“Yes,” said Archy quietly. “He can get down. You will not try to escape, will you, Ram?”“No; not I. What’s the good?” said Ram sadly. “It’s all over now.”The rope was made fast, and by its help the men easily reached the great ledge, Ram coming down soon after with the coiled-up rope about his shoulder and under one arm.“Couldn’t have got away if I wanted to,” he said, laughing frankly in Archy’s face. “I say, I am hungry! Aren’t you? Don’t I wish I’d got one of mother’s baskets full of good stuff!”“Where’s your mother?” asked Archy.“Up at the farm.”“And your father?”“Oh, he went off in the lugger this morning, after they’d tried to run a cargo. Your cutter was too quick for them though. We tried to get out to her, but the skipper sent a shot at us, and we came back here, only you saw us, and run us down.”“Where do you suppose your men are now?” asked Archy.“Don’t know, and if I did, I wouldn’t tell,” said the boy bluntly. “I say,” he added, after a pause, “I give you a pretty good run last night, didn’t I?”“You young dog!” growled the master.“Well, if I hadn’t, you’d have found the way in yonder, and I wasn’t going to let you if I could help it.”“Ah, you’ll be hung, sir.”“Get out!” cried Ram. “Your skipper wouldn’t hang a boy like me. Think the cutter will be long?” said the boy after a pause, during which all had been watching the flame which seemed to flow out of the opening far overhead.“I don’t know; why?” replied Archy.“Because she’ll have to come and take us off. This rope’s long enough, and we shall have to slide down into a boat.”But the cutter was long. For the lugger had escaped to Holland consequent upon theWhite Hawkbeing so short-handed, and it was toward evening that she came close in to search for the crews, and all the party descended in safety to the boat, which rowed under in answer to the signals made by firing pistols.As to the boats that passed under the archway, they were prisoned till the next low water.“Satisfied?” said the lieutenant, after all were on board, and he had heard the report. “More than satisfied. I was horribly disappointed at losing the lugger, and I made a hard fight for it, but your news—my dear boy—my dear Mr Gurr, this is splendid! What a despatch I can write!”“It will be the breaking up of the gang, will it not, sir?” asked Archy.“Yes, my dear boy; and an end to this wretched work. They must promote me now, and draft you, too, into a good ship. If we can be together, Mr Raystoke, I shall be delighted.”That same night, as he was thinking about Ram Shackle, Archy went up to the lieutenant, who was walking up and down rubbing his hands.“Beg pardon, sir, but may I ask a favour?”“A dozen if you like, Raystoke, and I’ll grant them if I can. Want a run ashore?”“No, sir. I want you to be easy with that boy. He was very kind to me when I was a prisoner.”“Hum! Hah! Well, I don’t know what to say to that. Here, my man, fetch that boy on deck.”Ram came up, whistling softly, and looking sharply from one to the other.“Now, sir, take off your cap,” said the lieutenant sternly.Ram did not look a bit afraid, but he doffed his red cap.“I suppose you know, sir, that you’ll be sent to gaol?”“Yes.—I knew you wouldn’t hang me.”“And pray what have you to say for yourself?”“Nothing that I knows on,” said Ram. “Yes, I have. I say father’s gone, and I dessay he won’t come back for ever so long, and I don’t want to go among the Dutchmen. May I stop here ’long of him? There won’t be no more smuggling to do.”“You mean you want to volunteer for His Majesty’s service?”“Yes, that’s it,” said Ram cheerfully. “May I?”“Yes,” said Lieutenant Brough shortly. “There; you can go below.”Ram waved his red cap, tossed it in the air, and turned to Archy.“I say, orficer,” he said, “I know where your little sword is. You send one of your chaps to-morrow to mother, and tell her I’m aboard and going to be a sailor, and she’s to give him your little sword as father put in the top drawer.”Archy’s eyes sparkled, for the loss of his dirk was a bitter memory.“Humph!” said the lieutenant, as Ram went below; “not a bad sort of boy. Well, Mr Raystoke, will that do?”Archy shook the hand held out, and went aft to gaze at the cliff, feeling that somehow he liked Ram Shackle.Then he turned, rather despondent, for he knew that the next day there would be an expedition ashore, when visits would be paid to the farm and to the Hoze, and he felt uncomfortable about the Graemes.
Archy felt his heart throb as he led the way down the slope, every step of which seemed so familiar that he advanced without hesitation, the knowledge of how many sturdy men he had at his back keeping away the natural shrinking which under other circumstances he might have felt.
“Halt!” said the master suddenly, and then in a whisper to his guide, “Strikes me as they’ll have the best of it if they should fight, my lad.”
“Not much,” replied Archy; “it’s as dark for them as it is for us, so that they can’t take us at a disadvantage. Call on them to surrender again.”
“Ay, to be sure,” cried the master; and once more he summoned the smugglers to give in.
There was not a sound to suggest that his orders were heard.
“Don’t know what to do, my lad,” whispered the master again. “If we go forward, we’re leaving the way open for the enemy to attack the watch at the entrance, and we don’t want that. Are you sure they’re here?”
“I feel certain of it,” said Archy in the same low tone. “They must be, but they’re hiding, so as to try to escape, or else to take us at a disadvantage.”
“Well,” said Gurr, “let them. So long as they come out and fight fair, I don’t care what they do. Here, four of you stop here; Dick, take command. We’ll go forward and turn the enemy, and try to take them in the rear. Stand fast if they come at you; no pistols, but use your cutlasses. We shall come up to you at the least sound, to help.”
The men uttered a low, “Ay, ay, sir,” speaking as if they were oppressed by the darkness, and the master whispered.
“Now, my lad,” he said, “try and give us the shape of the place like.”
Archy obeyed, and explained where the smugglers’ stores lay, and the pile of little kegs, if they had not been moved, the place where he had slept, and the positions of the huge pillars and heaps of broken stones.
“And you was shut up here all that time, and didn’t go mad!” said Gurr. “Well, you are a wonder! Tell you what, my lad, I should just like to make sure that those brandy kegs are still here, and then I think we’ll be off, and come back with lights. There’s no one here but ourselves. Place isn’t big enough for any one to be hiding without our hearing them?”
“Plenty, Mr Gurr,” said Archy firmly; “and I am sure they are here; but it is impossible to search without lights. They may be hiding behind the pillars or piles of stone. Have lights got as soon as possible, and then we can come and make them prisoners.”
All this was said in a hurried whisper, as the two stood together in front of their men, and in absolute darkness, for they had advanced into the place far enough for the faint light which filtered down from the trap-door to be completely lost.
“Yes; but I’d like to be able to tell the skipper that we have got something in the way of a prize for the men. Can you lead us to it, my lad?”
“But you couldn’t take it away.”
“Well, we might carry one keg aboard, as a sample. Now then, where will it be from here?”
“Give me your hand, and I’ll lead you right to it.”
“There you are. Take care how you go. Can you keep close behind us, my lads? Better join hands. Now then, are you ready?”
“Ay, ay,” came in a low murmur; and, grasping the master’s hand, Archy led on, fully believing that the smugglers were still there, but feeling that they would keep in hiding, and try to escape when they were gone.
“Say, my lad,” whispered the master, “I pity you—I do from my soul. Think of you being shut up all alone in a place like this! Hah! Look out!”
The order was needless, for the smugglers gave every one warning to do that.
One moment the King’s men were advancing cautiously through the darkness, the next, without a sound to warn them, there was a rush; blows fell thick and fast, cudgel striking head, cutlass, shoulder, anything that opposed the advance; and in less time than it takes to describe the encounter, the sailors were beaten down or aside, and the party of four, who were warned of what to expect by the noise in their front, advanced to the help of their friends, but only to be beaten down or aside by the gang which rushed at them.
“Stop them, Dick. Down with them!” shouted the master, as soon as he could get on his feet. “Hi, Dick! Pass the word to the bo’s’n to look out. Here, Mr Raystoke! Hi, bo’s’n, down with that trap and make it fast. Mr Raystoke, I say, where are you? Which way is it? Who’s this?”
“No, no, sir,” cried one of them; “it’s on’y me.”
“Mr Gurr! Here!” cried Archy. “Where are you?”
“At last. Where were you, then?”
“On the stones, half stunned,” cried Archy. “Here, all get together and follow me.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Make for the trap-door—sharp! They’re fighting there.”
“Oh, dear, who’d have thought it was this way!” grumbled the master. “Talk about blind man’s buff! Sure you’re going right, lad? Shall I fire a pistol to make a flash?”
“No; I know.”
“Hah!” cried Gurr, as an echoing bang ran through the great cavern. “Bravo, bo’s’n!”
The bang was followed by a heavy rattling sound perfectly familiar to Archy, as he hurried the master along to the foot of the slope.
“Are you all there?” cried Archy.
“Yes,”—“No,”—“No,” came from different directions.
“Then keep up this way, and be ready for another rush.”
“Ay,” cried the master loudly; “and I warn you fellows now, I’d have treated you easy; but if you will have it, the word’s war, and a volley of bullets next time you come on.”
“No, no, don’t fire! You’ll hit our own men,” whispered Archy, as he reached the top of the slope. “Ah! Who’s this?” he cried, as he nearly fell over a prostrate figure.
“Steady, my lad, steady!”
“Steady it is,” said another voice.
“What, bo’s’n?”
“Yes, sir, and me too. Oh, my head! How it bleeds!”
“Why, what are you doing here?”
“They came at us, sir, like mad bulls, and ’fore I knew where I was they had me. Pair o’ hands pops up out of the hole, takes hold of my legs, and I was pulled down, had a crack of the head, was danced on, and here I am, sir.”
“And me too, sir,” said the other voice. “But, I’m much worse than him.”
“But the smugglers?”
“All seemed to come over us, sir; banged the door down, and they’ve been rattling big stones on it. There, you can hear ’em now.”
In corroboration of the boatswain’s words, there was a dull thunderous sound overhead, as of great stones being thrown down over the trap-door, and all listened in silence for a time till the noise ceased.
The silence was broken by Gurr, who suddenly roared out, as if he had only just grasped the position,—
“Why, they’ve got away!”
“Every man jack of ’em, sir, and they all walked over me.”
“And they’ve shut us in!”
“Yes, Mr Gurr,” said Archy sadly; “they’ve shut us in.”
“But if they were here,” cried the master; “that’s what I wanted to do to them. I say, Mr Raystoke, you’ve done it now.”
Half angry, half amused, but all the while smarting with the pain caused by a blow he had received, Archy remained silent, listening to the heavy breathing and muttering of his companions in misfortune. The sounds above ground had ceased, and it was evident that the smugglers had made good their escape.
Again the silence was broken by the master, who raging with pain and mortification, exclaimed,—
“Well, Mr Raystoke, sir, you know all about this place; which is the way out?”
“Up above here, Mr Gurr, close to where we stand.”
“Very well, sir; then why don’t you lead on?”
“Because they have shut and fastened the trap, and heaped about a ton of stone upon it.”
“Well, then, we must hack through the door with our cutlashes, and let the stone down.”
“What’s that?” cried Archy excitedly,—“a light!”
For there was a dull report and a flash of blue like lightning; and, running down the slope, the midshipman beheld that which sent a thrill of terror through him. For, away toward the far end of the cave, there was a great pool of flickering blue light; and, as it lit up the ceiling and the huge square stone supports of the place, he saw that which explained the meaning of what had seemed to be a wonderful phenomenon.
There, beyond the flickering pool of blue and yellow flame, which was rapidly spreading in every direction, he could dimly see quite a wall of piled-up kegs, one of which lay right in the edge of the pool of fire, and suddenly exploded with a dull report, which blew the tongues of fire in all directions, half extinguishing them for the moment, but instantaneously flashing out again in a volume of fire, which quadrupled the size of the pool, and began to lick the sides of the kegs.
“The wretches! They fired the spirits before they escaped,” cried Archy, who realised to the full what had been done; and, for the sake of our common humanity, let us say it must have been an act of vindictive spite, aimed only at the destruction of the proof spirit, so that it might not fall into the sailors’ hands—not intended to condemn them to a hideous death.
“Back quick to the entrance! We must hack down that door,” roared Archy.
“Ay, ay,” shouted the men, who the moment before were mad with terror, but who leaped at the command as if their safety were assured.
“No, no!” shouted the midshipman, as a fresh keg exploded; and in the flash of flame which followed, the place glowed with a ghastly light.
“Yes, sir, yes!” shouted the men.
“I tell you no,” cried Archy; “we should be burned or suffocated long before we could get that open.”
And, as in imagination he saw the men fighting and striving with one another to get to the trap-door, which remained obstinately closed, he clapped his hand on Mr Gurr’s shoulder.
“I know another way,” he cried. “Follow me.”
“Hurrah!” yelled the men, and the lad had taken a dozen steps toward the pool of fire, when a wild shout came from near the entrance.
“All! Who’s that?” cried Archy, as he mentally saw a wounded man being left behind.
“Don’t leave a poor fellow to be burnt to death, Mr Raystoke,” cried a familiar voice.
“Ram!” cried Archy, running back to where the boy lay bound behind a pile of stones, forgotten for the time, and unheeded by his companions.
“Yes, it’s me,” said the boy excitedly.
“Quick! Get up. Can you walk?” said Archy, cutting him free.
“Yes,” cried the lad.
“Then come on!”
“For the top passage,” whispered Ram. “That’s the only way now.”
“Yes. Follow me.”
The midshipman had hardly given the command when there was another explosion, a fresh flash of fire, which nearly reached them, and he saw beyond the dancing tongues of flame the black opening he sought.
But this fresh explosion—one of which he knew scores must now rapidly follow—checked him for the moment, and he saw that Ram had disappeared.
“It’s our only chance, my lads,” cried Archy. “Are you all ready?”
“Ay, ay.”
“Hold your breath, then, as you get to the fire, and follow me.”
“Through that blaze, my lad?” whispered the master.
“Yes. Don’t stop to talk. Now, then,” roared Archy, “come on!”
“Hurrah!” cried the men wildly; and Archy dashed forward, but was thrown back, and had to retreat, as a fresh keg exploded and added to the size of the pool, now almost a river of fire many yards wide.
“It’s now or never!” cried Archy frantically, and he rushed into the blue flames, which leaped about his feet and up as if to lick his face.
A dozen strides, splashing up blue fire at every step, and he was through it, and where a faint current of cold air seemed to be meeting him.
Almost as he reached the farther side, the men came leaping and yelling after him, to stand beating the tongues of fire from their feet and legs.
Bang—bang—a couple more explosions, and the men crowded up to Archy, the master included, as if to ask what next.
“Are you all here?”
“Ay, ay, sir.”
“And that boy?”
“I’m here,” cried Ram. “Quick, before they all go off.”
“Yes,” said Archy. “Forward!”
He led the way into the darkness once more, but into an atmosphere which he could breathe. Then up the familiar way, with its rugged steps, and on to the newly mortared wall, with its loophole, through which the glorious light of day streamed.
“Now, my lads, cutlasses here. That wall’s new. Four of you work, and loosen the stones, the others take them and throw them back below.”
The men cheered, and, headed by Mr Gurr and Dick, worked as they had never worked before.
The stones were hard to move at first, but it was child’s play compared to the toil through which the young midshipman had gone when he attacked the wall. First one yielded, then another, and, as they were dragged out, the men cheered, and passed them back to those down the rough steps.
With every stone removed, hope strengthened the little party; but as the explosions followed fast, and the flames began to flicker and play up the passage in which they were penned, Archy closed his eyes for a few moments to mutter a prayer, for his thoughts were getting wild.
Just then, he knew that some one else thought as he did, for a hand touched his arm, and a voice whispered,—
“It wasn’t my fault. It must have been Jemmy Dadd. I say—case they can’t make a way out in time—shake hands once, mate. I do like you.”
Something like a hysterical sob burst from the young midshipman’s breast at this; and, facing death as he was just then,—a horrible death which might follow at any moment,—the lad’s hand grasped that of his young gaoler—officer and smuggler, but both boys of one blood, who had fought each according to his lights.
“Hah!” sighed Ram, as he gripped hard, and then let go. “Now, then, tell ’em to shove the stones, sharp, and let ’em fall out. Quick! Before the powder ketches.”
“Powder?” said Archy in an awe-stricken whisper. “Yes; there’s a lot not far from the kegs.” The men cheered, as the fresh order was given, and a new set took the places of those who were growing weary, sending the stones out rapidly, till there was room for a man to creep through.
“Here, Ram, you through first, and show them how to climb on the shelf.”
“No, no, you lead, Mr Raystoke,” cried the master. “Silence, sir! I know what I’m doing,” yelled Archy. “Out with you, Ram.”
The boy went through like a rabbit, passing something dark before him, and then rapidly one by one the men followed, with the flames roaring horribly now below, and explosion after explosion following quickly, the cave rapidly becoming a reservoir of fire.
“Hurrah! That’s all,” cried Mr Gurr. “Now, Mr Raystoke.”
“No, sir, you.”
“I say you.”
“And I—”
Archy yielded to his superior in the expedition, crept out, and the master was following, and got stuck, but a fierce tug from a couple of the men set him free, and he had only just joined the two boats’ crews standing side by side on the shelf of rock, when the whole cliff seemed to shake; and, as if the passage they had left were some vast cannon, the artificial wall left was blown right out by an awful burst of flame, the stones hurtling down as if the end of the cliffs had come, and falling with a mighty splash into the chasm.
The men stood white and awe-stricken, expecting the cliff to crumble away beneath them, but save that a stream of fire roared out of the opening, all was now still.
Then, in the midst of the awe-inspiring silence, Ram spoke,—
“I thought it wouldn’t be long before the powder caught;” and then, before any one could reply, the lad said quietly, “I didn’t want to be burnt to death. Better go to prison for smuggling. I say, I got this rope. Hadn’t we better make it fast somewhere, and then you can all get down to the big shelf? I’ll come last, and unfasten it.”
“And then how will you get down?” said the master suspiciously.
“Oh,” said Ram, laughing, “I can climb down; can’t I, orficer?”
“Yes,” said Archy quietly. “He can get down. You will not try to escape, will you, Ram?”
“No; not I. What’s the good?” said Ram sadly. “It’s all over now.”
The rope was made fast, and by its help the men easily reached the great ledge, Ram coming down soon after with the coiled-up rope about his shoulder and under one arm.
“Couldn’t have got away if I wanted to,” he said, laughing frankly in Archy’s face. “I say, I am hungry! Aren’t you? Don’t I wish I’d got one of mother’s baskets full of good stuff!”
“Where’s your mother?” asked Archy.
“Up at the farm.”
“And your father?”
“Oh, he went off in the lugger this morning, after they’d tried to run a cargo. Your cutter was too quick for them though. We tried to get out to her, but the skipper sent a shot at us, and we came back here, only you saw us, and run us down.”
“Where do you suppose your men are now?” asked Archy.
“Don’t know, and if I did, I wouldn’t tell,” said the boy bluntly. “I say,” he added, after a pause, “I give you a pretty good run last night, didn’t I?”
“You young dog!” growled the master.
“Well, if I hadn’t, you’d have found the way in yonder, and I wasn’t going to let you if I could help it.”
“Ah, you’ll be hung, sir.”
“Get out!” cried Ram. “Your skipper wouldn’t hang a boy like me. Think the cutter will be long?” said the boy after a pause, during which all had been watching the flame which seemed to flow out of the opening far overhead.
“I don’t know; why?” replied Archy.
“Because she’ll have to come and take us off. This rope’s long enough, and we shall have to slide down into a boat.”
But the cutter was long. For the lugger had escaped to Holland consequent upon theWhite Hawkbeing so short-handed, and it was toward evening that she came close in to search for the crews, and all the party descended in safety to the boat, which rowed under in answer to the signals made by firing pistols.
As to the boats that passed under the archway, they were prisoned till the next low water.
“Satisfied?” said the lieutenant, after all were on board, and he had heard the report. “More than satisfied. I was horribly disappointed at losing the lugger, and I made a hard fight for it, but your news—my dear boy—my dear Mr Gurr, this is splendid! What a despatch I can write!”
“It will be the breaking up of the gang, will it not, sir?” asked Archy.
“Yes, my dear boy; and an end to this wretched work. They must promote me now, and draft you, too, into a good ship. If we can be together, Mr Raystoke, I shall be delighted.”
That same night, as he was thinking about Ram Shackle, Archy went up to the lieutenant, who was walking up and down rubbing his hands.
“Beg pardon, sir, but may I ask a favour?”
“A dozen if you like, Raystoke, and I’ll grant them if I can. Want a run ashore?”
“No, sir. I want you to be easy with that boy. He was very kind to me when I was a prisoner.”
“Hum! Hah! Well, I don’t know what to say to that. Here, my man, fetch that boy on deck.”
Ram came up, whistling softly, and looking sharply from one to the other.
“Now, sir, take off your cap,” said the lieutenant sternly.
Ram did not look a bit afraid, but he doffed his red cap.
“I suppose you know, sir, that you’ll be sent to gaol?”
“Yes.—I knew you wouldn’t hang me.”
“And pray what have you to say for yourself?”
“Nothing that I knows on,” said Ram. “Yes, I have. I say father’s gone, and I dessay he won’t come back for ever so long, and I don’t want to go among the Dutchmen. May I stop here ’long of him? There won’t be no more smuggling to do.”
“You mean you want to volunteer for His Majesty’s service?”
“Yes, that’s it,” said Ram cheerfully. “May I?”
“Yes,” said Lieutenant Brough shortly. “There; you can go below.”
Ram waved his red cap, tossed it in the air, and turned to Archy.
“I say, orficer,” he said, “I know where your little sword is. You send one of your chaps to-morrow to mother, and tell her I’m aboard and going to be a sailor, and she’s to give him your little sword as father put in the top drawer.”
Archy’s eyes sparkled, for the loss of his dirk was a bitter memory.
“Humph!” said the lieutenant, as Ram went below; “not a bad sort of boy. Well, Mr Raystoke, will that do?”
Archy shook the hand held out, and went aft to gaze at the cliff, feeling that somehow he liked Ram Shackle.
Then he turned, rather despondent, for he knew that the next day there would be an expedition ashore, when visits would be paid to the farm and to the Hoze, and he felt uncomfortable about the Graemes.
Chapter Forty.“Hullo, young fellow!”“Hullo, orficer!”“You must not speak like that,” said Archy, as he encountered Ram on deck next morning, whistling softly as he neatly coiled down a rope. “And you must touch your cap.”“That way?” said Ram.“Yes; that will do, but you must say ‘Sir,’ or ‘Ay, ay sir.’”“Ay, ay, sir.”“Well, you seem to be settling down very soon.”“Oh, yes, I’m all right. What’s the good of making a fuss. Going ashore?”“Yes. Do you want to go?”Ram shook his head.“No; I should only see some of our chaps, and it would look as if I’d been splitting on them; and I didn’t, did I?”“No; you behaved very bravely and well, Ram.”“Mean it—sir?”“Yes, I do, indeed.”“Thank ye—sir,” said Ram. “No, don’t let the skipper send me ashore; and—I say—”“Yes?”“Tell mother I’m all right, and that I shan’t have to go to prison, and that I’ll get some one to tell her how I’m getting on now and then. She’s a good one is mother, that she is.”“I’ll tell her you have given up all smuggling, and that you are going to be a good sailor now.”“Yes, do, please—sir. She hates the smuggling, and used to beg father not, but he would do it. And I say, are you going up to the Hoze?”“Yes; we shall search the farm and the Hoze too.”“Won’t find nothing at the farm. Father never had nothing there, not even a keg. And you won’t find nothing at the Hoze.”“Not in the cellar?”“No,” said Ram frankly.“How long has that Sir Risdon Graeme been a smuggler?”“Him? Never was one, poor old chap, only father good as made him lend us his cellar, because it was nice and handy, and nobody would think of going and searching there. Ha, ha, ha!” laughed Ram, showing his white teeth; “you people went up there one day and touched your hats to Sir Risdon, and were afraid to go close up to the house, when all the time the cellar was choke full.”“I remember,” said the midshipman; “and I found it out. But look here, Ram, how could your father make Sir Risdon, who is a gentleman, lend him the cellar?”“’Cause father and mother used to pretty well keep ’em. I had to be always going without father knowing, and taking ’em bread and butter and bacon and eggs. They just are poor. Mother used to send me, and she often used to tell me that they was ’most starved to death.”“Then Sir Risdon didn’t get anything by the smuggling?”“Him!” cried Ram. “Why, father sent me up one day with a keg of brandy for him, and a piece of silk for her ladyship; I did get hot that day carrying of ’em up the hill. It was last summer.”“Yes; and what did Sir Risdon say?”“Say? He ’most shied ’em at me, and I had to carry ’em back. My! That was a hot day and no mistake.”Somehow Archy felt relieved about the Graemes, and, after a little consideration, he went and reported all he had heard to the lieutenant, who nodded his head, looked severe, and ordered the two boats to be manned.The midshipman took the order on deck, and Ram stared.“I say,” he said, “what’s the good of going now? You’ll have to row all the way to the cove and walk all the way along by the cliffs. If you wait till the tide’s right out, you can get in through Grabley’s hole.”Archy reported this, and in due time Gurr was left in charge of the cutter, the lieutenant went off in one boat, and the other was in Archy’s charge.It all seemed very matter of fact now, as they rowed in through the opening, left the boats in the little pool, climbed the zigzag; and a halt was called, during which the little lieutenant wiped his streaming face, and recovered his breath.Then the party marched for the farm, where, red-eyed, and her florid face mottled and troubled-looking, Mrs Shackle met them.“Well, woman,” said the lieutenant severely; “I have to search this place.”“If you please, sir,” said the woman humbly.“One moment. Answer me honestly. Is there any contraband article stored about the farm?”“No, sir, and never was.”“Humph! That’s what your son said.”“My son? Oh, pray, pray tell me, gentlemen, is he safe? I heard that he was burned to death.”“Your son is quite well, aboard my ship.”“Thank God! Oh, thank God!” cried the poor woman, sinking upon her knees to cover her face with her hands, sobbing violently, and rocking herself to and fro.“There!” she cried, jumping up quickly, and wiping her eyes; “I’ve no cause to fret now.”“He has volunteered for the navy,” continued the lieutenant; “and if he is a good lad, we shall make a man of him.”“Then you will, sir; for a better boy never stepped.”“For a smuggler, eh?” said the lieutenant drily.“Well, sir, he was my husband’s boy, and he did what his father told him.”“And your husband?”“The men came and told me, sir, that he escaped in the lugger.”“And the men—where are they?”“They got away yesterday, sir, those who were left. They felt that they must leave these parts for good.”“Yes, forgood!” said the lieutenant emphatically. “Now, Mr Raystoke, have you anything to say?”“Only to deliver my message. Mrs Shackle, Ram told me to tell you he was all right.”“Thank Heaven!” said the woman, wiping away a tear; “and you won’t punish him, sir, and you’ll keep him away from the smuggling?”“Never fear,” cried the lieutenant, laughing.“You were to give me my dirk, Mrs Shackle.”“Oh,yes, sir!” cried the woman, crossing to an old bureau, and taking out the little weapon. “And I suppose, sir, all the old home will be taken and destroyed?”“Oh, I don’t know. We shall see. But, look here, my good woman; do you want to sail right or wrong now?”“Oh, right, sir, please.”“Then tell me honestly where there are any more goods stored?”“Everything left, sir, was put in the old quarry.”“Nothing up at that house on the hill?”“No, sir, I think not. It’s all over now, and my husband has gone, so I may as well speak out.”“Of course. It will be best for you—and for your son.”“They only stored cargoes up at Sir Risdon’s because it was handy, sir, and then took them on afterwards to the big store in the old quarry that was burned last night. But pray tell me, sir, was any one hurt?”“No, but we have no thanks to give your people. Now, Mr Raystoke.”He marched out, and Archy was following, but Mrs Shackle arrested him.“God bless you, my dear!” she whispered. “I knew about you being there, but we couldn’t help it, and Ram used to tell me all about it, and how he liked you; and we sent you everything we could to make you comfortable. Be kind now to my son.”“If Ram turns out a good lad, Mrs Shackle, he shall never want a—”Archy was going to say friend, but he could not, for Mrs Shackle had thrown her arms about his neck in a big, motherly hug, from which the young officer escaped red-faced and vexed.“I wish she hadn’t kissed me,” he said to himself, after making sure that no one had seen. “And she has made my face all wet with her crying.”They were on the march now to the Hoze, with the lieutenant in the highest of glee, and chatting merrily to Archy as a brother officer and a friend.“If I could only have got the lugger too, Raystoke,” he cried, “it would have been glorious! But I couldn’t do impossibilities, could I?”“I am sure you did wonders, Mr Brough,” said Archy.“Well, never mind what I did, sir. You and Gurr acted so that I’m proud of you both, and of the lads. Completely burned out the wasps’ nest, eh? It—will be a glorious despatch, Raystoke. By the way, we must go straight down there and see if the place is cool enough to search. There may be a little of the wasps’ comb left, eh?”“I’m afraid the whole of the stores would be destroyed.”“Ah, well, we shall see, and—Who are these?”“Sir Risdon and Lady Graeme and their daughter,” whispered Archy, who coloured as he saw Celia looking at him defiantly.They were outside the house, and Lieutenant Brough halted his men, marched forward with the midshipman, and raised his hat, his salute being formally returned.“I regret to have to come in this unceremonious way, sir,” said the lieutenant.“Excuse me,” interrupted the baronet. “I expected you, sir, and, while congratulating you and your men upon their success, I wish to humbly own that my place has unwillingly on my part, been made one of the stores for their nefarious transactions.”The lieutenant moved away with Sir Risdon, leaving Archy alone with Celia and her mother.“Oh,” cried the girl, taking a step nearer to the midshipman, “how I hate you!”“Miss Graeme!”“I thought you a nice frank boy, and that you would be our friend.”“Celia, my child,” whispered Lady Graeme reproachfully.“I can’t help it, mamma. I wanted to help him, but he would keep saying that he must tell of papa because it was his duty.”“Yes,” said Archy bluntly; “and so it was.”“Yes,” said Lady Graeme, “it was.”“Oh, mamma dear, pray don’t say that. And now he has come with his hateful men to take papa to prison, and—”“Oh, yes, yes, yes, Sir Risdon, of course, I must write my despatch. But you have given me your word of honour as a gentleman that you never engaged in these contraband practices.”These words reached the little group, and also Sir Risdon’s reply:“I swear it, sir; and it was only—”“Yes, yes. Never mind that. Word of honour’s enough between gentlemen. Oh, no, I shall not search, sir. I am satisfied.”“Oh!” ejaculated Celia.“Hah!” ejaculated Archy in a sigh of relief.“Now, Mr Raystoke, midshipman,” said the lieutenant merrily. “My chief officer, ladies! Come, we have a great deal to do. Good morning. If you will pay us a visit on the cutter, we shall be only too proud to see you.”A friendly salute was interchanged, and Archy emphasised his by holding out his hand to Celia.“Good-bye,” he said. “Don’t hate me, please. I only did my duty.”“I don’t hate you,” she replied, giving him her hand. Only a boy and girl; but Archy looked back several times, as they marched downward to the cliff, and then up its steep, grassy slope, to see at a turn a white handkerchief being waved to him.“Why—hullo, Mr Raystoke!” cried the lieutenant merrily. “Oh, I see. Well, wait till you become a post-captain, and I hope I shall be an admiral by then, and that you will ask me to honour the wedding.”“Hush, pray, sir!” said Archy. “Some of the men will hear.”But the men did not hear, for they were quietly trudging along over the short grass, chewing their quids, and discussing the fire in the cave; those who had escaped relating again to those who were on the cutter their terrible experiences before the powder caught.In due time they reached the entrance to the quarry, and found that everything was as they had anticipated, the smugglers having piled quite a ton of stones over the trap-door. These were removed at length, and the door was thrown open, when a peculiar dim bluish mist slowly rose, and disappeared in the broad sunshine.“Keep back, my lads,” said the lieutenant. “The powder smells badly, and it would be very risky to go down now.”“Fire seems to be out,” said Archy, as he held his hand in the bluish smoke, which was dank and cold.“Not much to burn,” said the lieutenant; and, giving the word, the men bivouacked on the short turf to eat the provender they had brought, quite alone, for not a soul from the cottages between the farm and the cave appeared.So strong a current of air set through the old quarry, that by the time they had ended the air was good; but now another difficulty arose. There were no lights, and a couple of men had to be despatched to the farm, from whence they returned with four lanthorns which had often been used for signals.Armed with these, the party descended, and explored the place, to find that, where the powder had exploded, the walls were blackened and grisly, and that scores of little barrel staves were lying about shattered in all directions and pretty well burned away. On the other hand, the staves of the brandy kegs were for the most part hardly scorched, and the stone floor showed no traces of fire having passed.The spirits had burned vividly till the explosion took place, when the force of the powder seemed to have scattered everything, but it had been saving as well as destructive, separating the brandy kegs, some of which burst and added fuel to the flames, but many remained untouched.In fact, to the great delight of all, it was found that, though a great deal of destruction had been done, there was an ample supply of the smugglers’ stores left to well load the cutter twice; and, jubilant with the discovery, the men returned on board, dreaming of prize-money, but not until a strong guard had been left over the place, in case any of the wasps should return.But they did not come back. The nest had been burned out, and the smuggling in that part of the Freestone Shore had received so heavy a blow, that only one or two of the men cared to return, and then only for a temporary stay.Lieutenant Brough’s despatch had of course been sent in, and he obtained praise and prize-money.“But no promotion, Mr Raystoke,” he cried; “and of course you can have none until you have passed. They have not even appointed you to another ship.”“Well, if you are going to stay in theWhite Hawk, sir, I don’t know that I want to change. I’m very comfortable here.”“That’s very good of you, Raystoke, very good,” said the lieutenant. “And then it’s of no use to complain. I shall never get my promotion. I’m too little and too fat.”“No, that’s not it,” said Archy boldly; “they think you do the work so well that they will not remove you from the station.”“No,” said the lieutenant sadly; “it’s because I am so stout. I shall never be lifted now.”Mr Brough was wrong, for two years later he was appointed to a frigate, and his first efforts were directed to getting Archy Raystoke and Ram berths in the same ship, where a long and successful career awaited them.But with that we have at present nought to do. This is the chronicle of the expedition of theWhite Hawkto crush the smuggling on the Freestone Shore, the most famous place for the doings of those who set the King’s laws at defiance.It was some ten years later, when one of His Majesty King George’s smartest frigates was homeward bound from the East Indies, where her captain had distinguished himself by many a gallant act, that, as she was making for Portsmouth, with the tall white cliffs of the Isle just in sight, a tall handsome young officer went to the side, where a sun-browned seaman was standing gazing shoreward, shading his eyes with his hand.“Why, Ram,” said the officer; “looking out for the scene of some of your old villainies?”“No, sir,” said the man, touching his cap. “I was wondering whether my old mother was down on the cliff yonder, looking after the cows.”“The cows!” cried the young lieutenant. “Ah, to be sure. Remember the cow falling off the cliff, Ram?”“Ay, sir, that I do. But look yonder, sir. You could make out the shelf on the big cliff if you had your glass. Remember our tussle there?”“To be sure I do,” said Lieutenant Raystoke, sheltering his eyes in a very deceptive fashion, for he was trying to make out the old grove of trees amidst which stood the Hoze.“Mr Raystoke!”“Captain calling you, sir,” said a rugged-looking sailor, with a very swarthy face, that looked as if it would be all the better for a wash, but only seemed.“All right, Dick, my man,” said the young officer; and he hurried to where a plump, rosy little man stood in full post-captain’s uniform.“Ah, there you are, Mr Raystoke,” said the captain, handing the lieutenant his glass. “I’ve been sweeping the shore, and it brought back old days. Look there; you can easily make out the range of cliffs. That highest one is where you and Mr Gurr were at the burning out of the smugglers ten years ago. How time slips by!”“Yes, sir,” said Lieutenant Archy Raystoke, returning the glass; “that’s where the wasps’ nest was destroyed.”Then to himself,—“I wonder whether Celia will be glad to see me.”She was: very glad indeed.
“Hullo, young fellow!”
“Hullo, orficer!”
“You must not speak like that,” said Archy, as he encountered Ram on deck next morning, whistling softly as he neatly coiled down a rope. “And you must touch your cap.”
“That way?” said Ram.
“Yes; that will do, but you must say ‘Sir,’ or ‘Ay, ay sir.’”
“Ay, ay, sir.”
“Well, you seem to be settling down very soon.”
“Oh, yes, I’m all right. What’s the good of making a fuss. Going ashore?”
“Yes. Do you want to go?”
Ram shook his head.
“No; I should only see some of our chaps, and it would look as if I’d been splitting on them; and I didn’t, did I?”
“No; you behaved very bravely and well, Ram.”
“Mean it—sir?”
“Yes, I do, indeed.”
“Thank ye—sir,” said Ram. “No, don’t let the skipper send me ashore; and—I say—”
“Yes?”
“Tell mother I’m all right, and that I shan’t have to go to prison, and that I’ll get some one to tell her how I’m getting on now and then. She’s a good one is mother, that she is.”
“I’ll tell her you have given up all smuggling, and that you are going to be a good sailor now.”
“Yes, do, please—sir. She hates the smuggling, and used to beg father not, but he would do it. And I say, are you going up to the Hoze?”
“Yes; we shall search the farm and the Hoze too.”
“Won’t find nothing at the farm. Father never had nothing there, not even a keg. And you won’t find nothing at the Hoze.”
“Not in the cellar?”
“No,” said Ram frankly.
“How long has that Sir Risdon Graeme been a smuggler?”
“Him? Never was one, poor old chap, only father good as made him lend us his cellar, because it was nice and handy, and nobody would think of going and searching there. Ha, ha, ha!” laughed Ram, showing his white teeth; “you people went up there one day and touched your hats to Sir Risdon, and were afraid to go close up to the house, when all the time the cellar was choke full.”
“I remember,” said the midshipman; “and I found it out. But look here, Ram, how could your father make Sir Risdon, who is a gentleman, lend him the cellar?”
“’Cause father and mother used to pretty well keep ’em. I had to be always going without father knowing, and taking ’em bread and butter and bacon and eggs. They just are poor. Mother used to send me, and she often used to tell me that they was ’most starved to death.”
“Then Sir Risdon didn’t get anything by the smuggling?”
“Him!” cried Ram. “Why, father sent me up one day with a keg of brandy for him, and a piece of silk for her ladyship; I did get hot that day carrying of ’em up the hill. It was last summer.”
“Yes; and what did Sir Risdon say?”
“Say? He ’most shied ’em at me, and I had to carry ’em back. My! That was a hot day and no mistake.”
Somehow Archy felt relieved about the Graemes, and, after a little consideration, he went and reported all he had heard to the lieutenant, who nodded his head, looked severe, and ordered the two boats to be manned.
The midshipman took the order on deck, and Ram stared.
“I say,” he said, “what’s the good of going now? You’ll have to row all the way to the cove and walk all the way along by the cliffs. If you wait till the tide’s right out, you can get in through Grabley’s hole.”
Archy reported this, and in due time Gurr was left in charge of the cutter, the lieutenant went off in one boat, and the other was in Archy’s charge.
It all seemed very matter of fact now, as they rowed in through the opening, left the boats in the little pool, climbed the zigzag; and a halt was called, during which the little lieutenant wiped his streaming face, and recovered his breath.
Then the party marched for the farm, where, red-eyed, and her florid face mottled and troubled-looking, Mrs Shackle met them.
“Well, woman,” said the lieutenant severely; “I have to search this place.”
“If you please, sir,” said the woman humbly.
“One moment. Answer me honestly. Is there any contraband article stored about the farm?”
“No, sir, and never was.”
“Humph! That’s what your son said.”
“My son? Oh, pray, pray tell me, gentlemen, is he safe? I heard that he was burned to death.”
“Your son is quite well, aboard my ship.”
“Thank God! Oh, thank God!” cried the poor woman, sinking upon her knees to cover her face with her hands, sobbing violently, and rocking herself to and fro.
“There!” she cried, jumping up quickly, and wiping her eyes; “I’ve no cause to fret now.”
“He has volunteered for the navy,” continued the lieutenant; “and if he is a good lad, we shall make a man of him.”
“Then you will, sir; for a better boy never stepped.”
“For a smuggler, eh?” said the lieutenant drily.
“Well, sir, he was my husband’s boy, and he did what his father told him.”
“And your husband?”
“The men came and told me, sir, that he escaped in the lugger.”
“And the men—where are they?”
“They got away yesterday, sir, those who were left. They felt that they must leave these parts for good.”
“Yes, forgood!” said the lieutenant emphatically. “Now, Mr Raystoke, have you anything to say?”
“Only to deliver my message. Mrs Shackle, Ram told me to tell you he was all right.”
“Thank Heaven!” said the woman, wiping away a tear; “and you won’t punish him, sir, and you’ll keep him away from the smuggling?”
“Never fear,” cried the lieutenant, laughing.
“You were to give me my dirk, Mrs Shackle.”
“Oh,yes, sir!” cried the woman, crossing to an old bureau, and taking out the little weapon. “And I suppose, sir, all the old home will be taken and destroyed?”
“Oh, I don’t know. We shall see. But, look here, my good woman; do you want to sail right or wrong now?”
“Oh, right, sir, please.”
“Then tell me honestly where there are any more goods stored?”
“Everything left, sir, was put in the old quarry.”
“Nothing up at that house on the hill?”
“No, sir, I think not. It’s all over now, and my husband has gone, so I may as well speak out.”
“Of course. It will be best for you—and for your son.”
“They only stored cargoes up at Sir Risdon’s because it was handy, sir, and then took them on afterwards to the big store in the old quarry that was burned last night. But pray tell me, sir, was any one hurt?”
“No, but we have no thanks to give your people. Now, Mr Raystoke.”
He marched out, and Archy was following, but Mrs Shackle arrested him.
“God bless you, my dear!” she whispered. “I knew about you being there, but we couldn’t help it, and Ram used to tell me all about it, and how he liked you; and we sent you everything we could to make you comfortable. Be kind now to my son.”
“If Ram turns out a good lad, Mrs Shackle, he shall never want a—”
Archy was going to say friend, but he could not, for Mrs Shackle had thrown her arms about his neck in a big, motherly hug, from which the young officer escaped red-faced and vexed.
“I wish she hadn’t kissed me,” he said to himself, after making sure that no one had seen. “And she has made my face all wet with her crying.”
They were on the march now to the Hoze, with the lieutenant in the highest of glee, and chatting merrily to Archy as a brother officer and a friend.
“If I could only have got the lugger too, Raystoke,” he cried, “it would have been glorious! But I couldn’t do impossibilities, could I?”
“I am sure you did wonders, Mr Brough,” said Archy.
“Well, never mind what I did, sir. You and Gurr acted so that I’m proud of you both, and of the lads. Completely burned out the wasps’ nest, eh? It—will be a glorious despatch, Raystoke. By the way, we must go straight down there and see if the place is cool enough to search. There may be a little of the wasps’ comb left, eh?”
“I’m afraid the whole of the stores would be destroyed.”
“Ah, well, we shall see, and—Who are these?”
“Sir Risdon and Lady Graeme and their daughter,” whispered Archy, who coloured as he saw Celia looking at him defiantly.
They were outside the house, and Lieutenant Brough halted his men, marched forward with the midshipman, and raised his hat, his salute being formally returned.
“I regret to have to come in this unceremonious way, sir,” said the lieutenant.
“Excuse me,” interrupted the baronet. “I expected you, sir, and, while congratulating you and your men upon their success, I wish to humbly own that my place has unwillingly on my part, been made one of the stores for their nefarious transactions.”
The lieutenant moved away with Sir Risdon, leaving Archy alone with Celia and her mother.
“Oh,” cried the girl, taking a step nearer to the midshipman, “how I hate you!”
“Miss Graeme!”
“I thought you a nice frank boy, and that you would be our friend.”
“Celia, my child,” whispered Lady Graeme reproachfully.
“I can’t help it, mamma. I wanted to help him, but he would keep saying that he must tell of papa because it was his duty.”
“Yes,” said Archy bluntly; “and so it was.”
“Yes,” said Lady Graeme, “it was.”
“Oh, mamma dear, pray don’t say that. And now he has come with his hateful men to take papa to prison, and—”
“Oh, yes, yes, yes, Sir Risdon, of course, I must write my despatch. But you have given me your word of honour as a gentleman that you never engaged in these contraband practices.”
These words reached the little group, and also Sir Risdon’s reply:
“I swear it, sir; and it was only—”
“Yes, yes. Never mind that. Word of honour’s enough between gentlemen. Oh, no, I shall not search, sir. I am satisfied.”
“Oh!” ejaculated Celia.
“Hah!” ejaculated Archy in a sigh of relief.
“Now, Mr Raystoke, midshipman,” said the lieutenant merrily. “My chief officer, ladies! Come, we have a great deal to do. Good morning. If you will pay us a visit on the cutter, we shall be only too proud to see you.”
A friendly salute was interchanged, and Archy emphasised his by holding out his hand to Celia.
“Good-bye,” he said. “Don’t hate me, please. I only did my duty.”
“I don’t hate you,” she replied, giving him her hand. Only a boy and girl; but Archy looked back several times, as they marched downward to the cliff, and then up its steep, grassy slope, to see at a turn a white handkerchief being waved to him.
“Why—hullo, Mr Raystoke!” cried the lieutenant merrily. “Oh, I see. Well, wait till you become a post-captain, and I hope I shall be an admiral by then, and that you will ask me to honour the wedding.”
“Hush, pray, sir!” said Archy. “Some of the men will hear.”
But the men did not hear, for they were quietly trudging along over the short grass, chewing their quids, and discussing the fire in the cave; those who had escaped relating again to those who were on the cutter their terrible experiences before the powder caught.
In due time they reached the entrance to the quarry, and found that everything was as they had anticipated, the smugglers having piled quite a ton of stones over the trap-door. These were removed at length, and the door was thrown open, when a peculiar dim bluish mist slowly rose, and disappeared in the broad sunshine.
“Keep back, my lads,” said the lieutenant. “The powder smells badly, and it would be very risky to go down now.”
“Fire seems to be out,” said Archy, as he held his hand in the bluish smoke, which was dank and cold.
“Not much to burn,” said the lieutenant; and, giving the word, the men bivouacked on the short turf to eat the provender they had brought, quite alone, for not a soul from the cottages between the farm and the cave appeared.
So strong a current of air set through the old quarry, that by the time they had ended the air was good; but now another difficulty arose. There were no lights, and a couple of men had to be despatched to the farm, from whence they returned with four lanthorns which had often been used for signals.
Armed with these, the party descended, and explored the place, to find that, where the powder had exploded, the walls were blackened and grisly, and that scores of little barrel staves were lying about shattered in all directions and pretty well burned away. On the other hand, the staves of the brandy kegs were for the most part hardly scorched, and the stone floor showed no traces of fire having passed.
The spirits had burned vividly till the explosion took place, when the force of the powder seemed to have scattered everything, but it had been saving as well as destructive, separating the brandy kegs, some of which burst and added fuel to the flames, but many remained untouched.
In fact, to the great delight of all, it was found that, though a great deal of destruction had been done, there was an ample supply of the smugglers’ stores left to well load the cutter twice; and, jubilant with the discovery, the men returned on board, dreaming of prize-money, but not until a strong guard had been left over the place, in case any of the wasps should return.
But they did not come back. The nest had been burned out, and the smuggling in that part of the Freestone Shore had received so heavy a blow, that only one or two of the men cared to return, and then only for a temporary stay.
Lieutenant Brough’s despatch had of course been sent in, and he obtained praise and prize-money.
“But no promotion, Mr Raystoke,” he cried; “and of course you can have none until you have passed. They have not even appointed you to another ship.”
“Well, if you are going to stay in theWhite Hawk, sir, I don’t know that I want to change. I’m very comfortable here.”
“That’s very good of you, Raystoke, very good,” said the lieutenant. “And then it’s of no use to complain. I shall never get my promotion. I’m too little and too fat.”
“No, that’s not it,” said Archy boldly; “they think you do the work so well that they will not remove you from the station.”
“No,” said the lieutenant sadly; “it’s because I am so stout. I shall never be lifted now.”
Mr Brough was wrong, for two years later he was appointed to a frigate, and his first efforts were directed to getting Archy Raystoke and Ram berths in the same ship, where a long and successful career awaited them.
But with that we have at present nought to do. This is the chronicle of the expedition of theWhite Hawkto crush the smuggling on the Freestone Shore, the most famous place for the doings of those who set the King’s laws at defiance.
It was some ten years later, when one of His Majesty King George’s smartest frigates was homeward bound from the East Indies, where her captain had distinguished himself by many a gallant act, that, as she was making for Portsmouth, with the tall white cliffs of the Isle just in sight, a tall handsome young officer went to the side, where a sun-browned seaman was standing gazing shoreward, shading his eyes with his hand.
“Why, Ram,” said the officer; “looking out for the scene of some of your old villainies?”
“No, sir,” said the man, touching his cap. “I was wondering whether my old mother was down on the cliff yonder, looking after the cows.”
“The cows!” cried the young lieutenant. “Ah, to be sure. Remember the cow falling off the cliff, Ram?”
“Ay, sir, that I do. But look yonder, sir. You could make out the shelf on the big cliff if you had your glass. Remember our tussle there?”
“To be sure I do,” said Lieutenant Raystoke, sheltering his eyes in a very deceptive fashion, for he was trying to make out the old grove of trees amidst which stood the Hoze.
“Mr Raystoke!”
“Captain calling you, sir,” said a rugged-looking sailor, with a very swarthy face, that looked as if it would be all the better for a wash, but only seemed.
“All right, Dick, my man,” said the young officer; and he hurried to where a plump, rosy little man stood in full post-captain’s uniform.
“Ah, there you are, Mr Raystoke,” said the captain, handing the lieutenant his glass. “I’ve been sweeping the shore, and it brought back old days. Look there; you can easily make out the range of cliffs. That highest one is where you and Mr Gurr were at the burning out of the smugglers ten years ago. How time slips by!”
“Yes, sir,” said Lieutenant Archy Raystoke, returning the glass; “that’s where the wasps’ nest was destroyed.”
Then to himself,—
“I wonder whether Celia will be glad to see me.”
She was: very glad indeed.