Chapter Five.

Chapter Five.I form plans against the smugglers—Ned’s brotherly advice—I continue to visit old Riddle—He presents me with a cutter—My first lessons in sailing—Reception of my present at home—Aunt Deb again gives her opinion—A present in return—Sudden disappearance of Mark, which leads to a further expression of sentiments on the part of Aunt Deb—I visit Leighton Hall—My interview with the Squire—I obtain permission to visit Mark in prison—“Better than doing nothing”—I console Old Roger—“A prison’s a bad place for a boy”—Returning homewards, I unexpectedly gain some important information—The barn—The smuggler’s conference—Rather too near to be pleasant—I contrive to escape—Am pursued and captured by the smugglers, but finally released—Aunt Deb’s disapproval of my friendship for Mark Riddle.I have taken up so much space in describing the adventures of old Riddle, that I must be as brief as I can with my own. Although I had been inclined to think smugglers very fine fellows, I had lately heard so much against them that I began to consider it would be a very meritorious act if I could gain information which might lead to the capture of some of them; besides which, I flattered myself Sir Reginald would be so highly pleased at my conduct that he would exert himself more than he at present seemed inclined to do, to obtain me an appointment as midshipman on board a man-of-war. I kept my ideas to myself; I didn’t venture to mention them even to the old sailor, as I suspected that if not actually in league with the smugglers, he was friendly to them. I thought it better also to say nothing about it to my father, for although I knew that he would be pleased should I succeed, he might very naturally dread the danger I should have to run in my undertaking. How to set about the matter was the difficulty. I had no intention of acting a treacherous part, or to try to become friendly with the smugglers, for the purpose of betraying them. My plan was to hunt about to try and find out their hiding-places, and where any cargoes were to be run; then to give information to the baronet. The only person to whom I confided my plan was Ned, under a promise of secrecy. He tried to dissuade me, pointing out that it was a very doubtful proceeding at the best, and that, should I succeed, the smugglers would be sure to take vengeance on me.“They will either shoot you or carry you off to sea, and drown you, or put you on board some outward-bound ship going to the coast of Africa, or round Cape Horn; and it may be years before you get back, if you ever return at all,” said Ned.Still his arguments didn’t prevail with me, and I only undertook to be cautious. Had he not given his promise to keep my intentions secret, he would, I suspect, have told our father or Aunt Deb, and effectual means would have been taken to prevent me from carrying out my plan. A considerable time passed by, and although I was on the watch, I could gain no information regarding the proceedings of the smugglers. During this period I paid several visits to old Riddle, who always seemed glad to see me. I was highly delighted one day when he presented me with a cutter, which he had carved out and rigged expressly for me. It was about two feet long and of a proportionable width, fitted with blocks, so that I could lower or hoist up the sails, and set such canvas as the wind would allow. The inside was of a dark salmon colour, the bottom was painted and burnished to look like copper, while the rest was of a jet black. Altogether I was highly delighted with the craft—the first I had ever possessed—and I only wished she was large enough to enable me to go aboard her, so that I might sail in her.Near old Rogers’ house was a lagoon of considerable length and breadth, filled by the sea at high tide. It was open to all winds, and was thus a capital place for sailing a model. He and Mark at once accompanied me to it, and they having trimmed the sails, and placed the rudder in the proper position, the model vessel went as steadily as if the ship had had a crew on board. When she had finished her voyage across the lagoon, the old sailor, taking her out, showed me how to trim the sails. I then, carrying her back to the place whence she started, set her off myself. I had fancied that I could make her sail directly before the wind; but he explained the impossibility of doing this without a person on board to steer, as she would have a tendency to luff up to the wind. He evidently took a pleasure in teaching me, and I didn’t grow weary of learning, so that at the end of the first day I fancied I could manage my little craft to perfection. I called her “The Hope.” He promised to have the name painted on her stern by the next day I came. I went almost day after day for a week or more. At last old Roger declared I could sail “The Hope” as well as he could. Sometimes Mark came with me, but he didn’t take as much interest in the amusement as I did, he being more accustomed to practical sailing; besides which he had other employments into which he didn’t think fit to initiate me. As I before said, he frequently went fishing on the Squire’s ponds, and from a light fowling-piece which I saw in his room, together with several nets and other contrivances for catching game, I suspected that he also spent some of his time in the Squire’s preserves. I didn’t like to hint to him that I had any suspicion on the subject. When he saw my eyes directed towards a gun, he observed—“I sometimes go out wild-duck shooting in the winter. My gun is not large enough for the purpose, so when I can contrive to get up close enough I now and then kill a bird or two.”“I should think your gun was more suitable for killing partridges or hares or pheasants,” I remarked.“Ah, yes, so it may be; but then pheasants and partridges and hares are game, and I should run the risk of being hauled up before the Squire if I were to bag any.”He laughed in a peculiar way as he spoke. I tried to get information from him about the smugglers; but if he knew anything he held his tongue, evidently considering it wiser not to trust me. At last, as I wanted to show my cutter to Ned, my sister, and the rest, I told old Roger that I should like to carry it home. To this he raised no objection.“You’ll find her rather a heavy load, Master Dick,” he said. “However, you can rest on your way. I advise you to stow the sails first, so that if you meet a breeze they will not press against you.”I did as he advised me, lowered the mainsail and stowed it as he had shown me how to do, and lowered the foresail and jib. Mark had gone out that morning and had not returned, or he would have helped me, I had no doubt. Wishing old Roger, Mrs Roger, and Nancy good-bye, I set out.Sometimes I carried the cutter on one shoulder, sometimes on the other, and then under my arm; but before I got half way I began to wish that there was a canal between old Roger’s cottage and the vicarage. My arms and shoulders ached with the load. After resting some time, I once again started and managed at last to get home. “The Hope” just as I had expected, met with general admiration from my brothers and sisters. They were much astonished to see me unfurl the sails, and all wished to come and see her sail. I promised to give them that pleasure, provided they would undertake to carry the cutter between them. Aunt Deb was the only person who turned up her nose at seeing my model.“Mr Riddle might have thought of some other present to give the boy,” she observed; “there was no necessity indeed for his giving a present at all. Dick’s head is already too much turned towards sea matters, and this will only make him think of them more than ever. I shall advise your father to return the vessel to the old sailor, with the request that he will dispose of it to some one else. In my opinion, it was very wrong of him to make such a present without first asking leave.”I thought it better to say nothing, and Aunt Deb didn’t carry out her intentions. My mother, who was always generously inclined, gave me leave to take a few pots of jam in return. A few days afterwards Ned and I, and two of my sisters, set out to carry our present. They had been interested in what I had told them about the old sailor and his pretty daughter, and wanted to see them. On our arrival they received us in a friendly way, and Mrs Riddle and Mary hurried to place chairs for my sisters. They thanked us much for the present we had brought. I observed that they all looked graver than usual. I inquired for Mark.“He hasn’t come home since yesterday evening,” answered his father. “I don’t fancy that any harm has befallen him; but still I can’t help thinking all sorts of things. If he doesn’t come back soon, I must set out to look for him.”I found that Mark had taken his gun, and said that he was going along the shore to get a shot at a gull, but it was not as yet the season for wild fowl to visit the coast. Still I could not help fancying that old Roger knew more about Mark’s intended proceedings than he thought fit to tell me. It struck me that perhaps the smugglers had something to do with the matter. Had I been alone I should have offered to have accompanied him; but he didn’t ask me, and indeed seemed to wish that we should take our departure. Telling my sisters, therefore, that it was time to go home, we wished the family good-bye, and set out on our return. At tea that evening my sisters mentioned the disappearance of Mark.“Depend upon it that boy has got into mischief of some sort,” observed Aunt Deb; “though I never saw him that I know of, I am very sure from the remarks Dick has made that he is a wild monkey, and a very unfit companion for a young gentleman.”I defended Mark, and asserted that it was just as likely that he had met with some accident.“At all events, I intend to go over to-morrow morning, and inquire what has happened to him,” I said. “I don’t remember making any remarks which would lead you Aunt Deb, to suppose that he was otherwise than a well-conducted fellow. He seems much attached to his family, and they’re evidently very fond of him.”“Perhaps his father spoils him as other parents are apt to do,” remarked Aunt Deb, glancing at the Vicar. “The sooner you break off your intimacy with him the better in my opinion—and now you are aware of my sentiments.”The latter was a remark Aunt Deb usually made at the conclusion of an argument, by which she intended it to be understood that her opinion was not to be disputed.Next morning, without waiting for breakfast, taking only a crust of bread and a cup of milk, I set off, anxious to learn what had happened to my friend Mark. On nearing the cottage I saw Mary at the door.“Oh! Master Dick, I’m so glad you’re come,” she exclaimed. “Father and mother are in a great taking. Mark has got into trouble. When he went out yesterday evening he met Jack Quilter and Tom Bass, and they persuaded him to go shooting where he ought not to have gone, and all three were caught by Sir Reginald’s keepers. They had a fight for it, and Quilter and Bass knocked one of the keepers down, and would have treated him worse if Mark had not interfered. Three other keepers coming up, they were all carried off to the Hall, where they have been locked up ever since. Father only heard of it yesterday evening after you went. He at once set off to try and see Sir Reginald, and he only got back late last night, or rather this morning, so he has only just now got up. He said that the Squire was very savage with him, and threatened to send Mark off to sea. It was with great difficulty that father got leave to see Mark, who told him how he had saved the keeper’s life, but the Squire would not believe it, and said that he had been caught poaching, and must take the consequences.”“I’m very sorry to hear this,” I said to Mary; “but don’t despair of your brother getting off. I’ll ask my father to plead for him; and if he won’t do that, I’ll go myself and tell the Squire what a capital fellow Mark is. It would be a shame to send him to sea against his will, although he might be ready enough to go of his own accord.”After I had talked the matter over with Mary for some time, I went into the cottage, where I found Mrs Riddle looking very downcast, and soon afterwards old Roger made his appearance. He repeated what Mary had said, and added that he intended to engage the services of Lawyer Roe to defend Mark, though the expenses would be greater than he could well bear. I was afraid, however, that Lawyer Roe could do nothing for Mark, taken as he had been with a gun in his hands, in Sir Reginald’s preserves, should the baronet resolve to prosecute. I again offered to go off at once to see Sir Reginald. I however much doubted that my father would undertake the mission, especially as Aunt Deb would endeavour to persuade him to have nothing to do with the matter. Mrs Riddle and Mary pressed me to take some breakfast, which they had just prepared, and as by this time I was very hungry, I gladly accepted their invitation. As it was important to get early to the Hall, directly breakfast was over I started, resolved to employ every means I could to get Mark liberated. It didn’t occur to me that probably Sir Reginald would pay no attention to my request, or that he would consider my interference as a piece of impertinence. I made up my mind to speak boldly and forcibly, and felt very confident that I should gain my object. Old Roger accompanied me part of the way, but he thought it was better not to be seen near the Hall, lest it should be supposed I had been influenced by him. I was but a little fellow, it must be remembered, and without any experience of the world, or my hopes would not have risen so high.“Never fear, Mr Riddle,” said I, as I parted from the old sailor. “I’ll manage, by hook or by crook, to get Mark set free, so tell Mrs Riddle and Mary to keep up their spirits.”When I reached the Hall, I walked boldly up to the front porch, and gave a sturdy pull at the bell. A powdered footman opened the door. In a firm voice I asked to see Sir Reginald.“He is at breakfast.”“Then say Mr Richard Cheveley has called, and begs to see him on an important matter.”The footman gave an equivocal smile down at me, and went into the breakfast-room at one side of the Hall.I heard a lady’s voice say—“Oh! Do let him come in.”The servant reappearing, showed me into the breakfast-room, in which several ladies were at one end of a well-covered table. Lady Knowsley was seated, presiding at the tea-urn, with several young ladies on either side, and Sir Reginald at the foot.I made my bow as I entered. Lady Knowsley held out her hand without rising, and Sir Reginald turned partly round in his chair and gave me a nod, then went on eating his breakfast, while the young ladies smiled. The footman placed a chair for me in a vacant place at the table.“You have had a long walk, and must be ready for breakfast,” said Lady Knowles, in a kind tone.“Thank you, I took some on my way,” I answered, not wishing to loose time by having to repeat an operation I felt that I could not perform in the presence of so many young ladies with my accustomed appetite.“You must have got up another appetite by this time,” observed Sir Reginald. “Come youngster! Here is an egg and some ham. Julia, cut him a slice of bread, and Lady Knowles will supply you with tea. Fall to, now, and let me see what sort of a man you are.”Thus pressed, I was compelled to eat what was set before me, which I did without any great difficulty. Sir Reginald was too polite to ask me the object of my visit till I had finished. He pressed me to take more, but I declined, and I then told him that I had heard that Mark Riddle had been taken poaching with some other lads who had led him astray.“That is your opinion, Master Cheveley,” observed Sir Reginald, with a laugh; “why the fellow is the most arrant young poacher in the neighbourhood. My people have been aware of it for a long time, but have hitherto been unable to capture him.”“I hope that they are mistaken, Sir Reginald,” I observed; “I have seen a good deal of Mark Riddle, and his father is a very fine old sailor.”“He may be that, although I have reason to believe that he is, besides, as determined a smuggler as any on the coast, though he is too cunning to be caught,” answered the baronet. “No, no, Master Cheveley; young Mark must be sent to prison unless he is allowed as a favour to go to sea instead.”I was determined not to be defeated, notwithstanding what the baronet had said. I still pleaded for Mark, and the ladies, who are generally ready to take the weaker side joined with me.“Suppose he is guilty. He is very young. If he would promise not to poach again, will it not be kind to let him off?” said Lady Knowles.“It would be kinder to give him a lesson which he will not forget,” said Sir Reginald; “notwithstanding all his promises, he would be certain to poach again. He might end by killing a keeper, and have to be sent to the gallows, as has been the fate of many. Poachers and smugglers must be put down at all costs.”In spite of my intention to persevere, I found that I hadn’t the slightest chance of moving the feelings of the baronet. I, however, supported by the ladies, got leave to pay Mark a visit, and I learned from them that he and the other men were not to be sent off to prison until the following day, when the constables would come to carry them away. I stayed for some time, the young ladies chatting pleasantly with me, till at length thinking that I ought to take my departure, I asked to be allowed to go to Sir Reginald’s study, to obtain an order for me to visit Mark.“I’ll get it for you,” said Miss Julia; “we all feel compassion for the poor lad, who has evidently been led astray by bad companions.” In a short time she returned, with an order to the constable in charge of the prisoners.Thanking her very much, and wishing her and her sisters and Lady Knowles good-bye, I hastened round to the back of the house, where the lock-up room was situated.The constable, on seeing the order, admitted me without hesitation.“Well, Master Dick, this is kind of you to come and see me when I’m in trouble,” said Mark, immediately stretching out his hand. “From what I hear, it will go hard with me.”I asked him if he could not prove that he had been misled by others, and would promise not to go poaching again.“No; that I can’t, either one or the other,” he answered promptly. “I went of my own free will, and if I was let out, as long as I had a gun and powder and shot, I should go and make use of it. But I don’t want to go to prison; and if I’m sent to sea, I should like to choose how and when I am to go.”“You must find it very dull work sitting here all day, having nothing to do,” I remarked. “Would you like to make some blocks? I have got some wood and a sharp knife, with a saw and file, in my pocket. It will be better than doing nothing.”Mark gave a sharp look in my face, and said—“Yes, that I should. I never like to have my hands idle. You shall have the blocks for your cutter when I have finished them.”Thinking only of the amusement it would afford Mark, I handed him out the necessary tools, and promised to obtain some more wood for him to work on should he be sent to prison. The other two men were lying down, apparently asleep, while I paid my visit to Mark. They took no notice of me. After I left, instead of going directly home, I returned to old Roger, that I might report the ill-success of my visit to Sir Reginald.“I feared it would be so from the first,” said Roger. “A prison is a bad place for a boy, and I’d rather he had been sent off to sea.”“I’ll ask my father to try what he can do, though I’m afraid he’ll not be more successful than I have been.”“Do, Master Dick,” said Mrs Riddle. “We should not let any stone remain unturned. I would not have our Mark sent to prison for anything. It would be the ruin of the boy.”I of course promised to do my best. It was getting late in the day, for I had spent a considerable time at the Hall, and a further period had been occupied in getting to old Roger’s cottage. Mrs Riddle insisted on my stopping to take tea, and as I had had no dinner I was very glad to accept her invitation. I remained on afterwards for some time, talking to the old sailor, so that it was pretty late when I at length set out to return home. As I had told Ned where I was going I knew that they would not be anxious about me, and therefore did not hurry my steps. I had got about half way, when feeling tired I sat myself down to rest, with my back against the side of an old barn, at a spot whence I could obtain a good view of the sea. I sat for some time watching the vessels passing up and down channel, and observing a few boats putting out for their night’s fishing from Leighton Cove. The weather was warm, and I was sheltered from the light breeze which blew off the land. I had been on foot all day since early dawn, and very naturally became drowsy. Instead of at once jumping up I sat on, and in consequence fell fast asleep. When I awoke I found that the sun had set, and that the daylight was fast departing. I was just going to get up, when I heard voices proceeding from the inside of the barn. Though not intending to play the part of an eavesdropper, I could not help listening to what they said. The men spoke in low voices, so that I didn’t catch everything, but I heard enough to convince me that the speakers were smugglers arranging a spot where a cargo was to be run the first night when there would be no moon, and the wind blowing off shore. As far as I could make out, it was to be close to where I then was. Below me was a little sandy bay, where the boats could come ashore even should there be a heavy sea running outside.One of the speakers, whom I knew to be Ned Burden, lived in a cottage hard by, and he was to show a light in his window should the coast be clear. At present the weather was far too favourable for their purpose, but they counted on a change in four or five days. At last I heard them fix on the following Wednesday. I was afraid of moving lest the smugglers should hear me, and I knew that if they discovered my whereabout they would look upon me as a spy, especially as everybody was aware of the way my father, had been speaking against smuggling. Still they went on talking, and I heard some more of their designs.In order to draw off the Revenue-men from the spot, it was proposed to set one or two hayricks on fire at a large farm near Sandgate, when it was supposed that they would collect to try and extinguish the flames, so as to prevent the fire communicating with the other surrounding ricks. As this was sure to be no easy work, it was calculated that the smugglers would have time to run the cargo, and carry the goods away into the interior. It was an opportunity I had long been looking for. I could now, by giving the information I possessed, secure the favour of Sir Reginald, and thus induce him to further my object. I sat on, scarcely daring to breathe, lest I should be heard, and heartily wishing that the men would go away. They had evidently, however, met there for the purpose of discussing various subjects. Ned Burden probably didn’t wish to go far from home, and apparently was unwilling to receive his visitors in his own cottage. He had therefore fixed upon this spot. At last I began to think that they intended to spend the night there. I heard footsteps approaching, and I now feared that I should be discovered; but the new comers followed the path which led to the opposite side of the barn to that where I was sitting. I judged by the voices that there were three of them. They once more went over the matters that the others had before discussed, having apparently no fear of being overheard. They all spoke in their ordinary voices, only occasionally dropping them. “Now is the time,” I thought, “of making my escape; while they are talking they will not hear me, and I may creep away to a distance without being discovered.” I put my plan into execution. The men continued talking on; their voices sounded fainter and fainter as I got farther away from the barn. Fancying that I was safe, I at last rose to my feet, intending to run as fast as my legs could carry me. Scarcely, however, had I began to move forward, when I heard a shout, followed by the sound of footsteps. I fully expected, should the smugglers fancy that I had overheard them to get a knock on the head if I was overtaken. I had always been tolerably fleet of foot, and as I had no desire to be so treated, I set off running as hard as I could. I hadn’t got far, however, before I fancied I heard some one coming. In a short time I was nearly certain of it, but I didn’t stop to listen. In daylight I should have had no difficulty in keeping ahead of my pursuers, but the ground was rough, and I had to turn aside to avoid bushes and rocks. Still the impediments in my way would also assist to stop them, and I didn’t despair of escaping. I had to cross over a ridge, at the top of which I was exposed to view. I had just reached it, when I heard some one shout. “You may shout as loud as you like,” thought I, “but I’m not going to stop in consequence.” Down the hill I rushed, hoping soon to find shelter, so as to be able to turn off to one side or the other, and thus to evade my pursuers. I knew that a little way on was a lane which led directly to the village, and that if I could once get into it I might run on without much chance of being overtaken. I could see before me a thick hedge, through which I should have to get into the lane. I was making my way towards it, when down I came into a deep ditch or watercourse, the existence of which I had forgotten. It was perfectly dry, but I was severely hurt by the fall, and for some seconds I lay unable to move. I soon, however, recovered, and attempted to scramble out on the opposite side. But the bank was steep, and the top was above my reach. I fancied that it would be lower farther down, and ran or rather scrambled on in that direction. It didn’t occur to me at the time that it would be wiser to remain perfectly still, when my pursuers, if they were continuing the chase, would have passed me unobserved in the darkness. I at last reached a part where the bank was broken away, and began climbing up, when I heard footsteps close to me; and, as I gained the top, I saw a man coming along at full speed on the opposite side. I determined, however, not to be caught if I could help it; but to my dismay, when I began to run, I found that I had sprained my ankle. This, though it didn’t stop me altogether, prevented me from running as fast as before; but if I could get through the hedge I thought that I might keep ahead, or that the smugglers would not venture to follow me. To ascertain how far off they were I gave a glance over my shoulder. This was fatal to my success, for my foot caught in a low bush and down I came. In vain I endeavoured to regain my feet. Next instant I found myself in the grasp of two men.“Hulloa! Youngster; what made you try to get away from us?” asked one of them, in an angry tone.“I am on my way home, and wish to get there as soon as possible,” I answered.“Who are you?” asked the man.I told him without hesitation.“And your father has joined Sir Reginald and the other squires about here in persecuting the smugglers.”“I don’t see what that has to do with my being in a hurry to get home,” I replied.“Maybe not; but we want to know where you were lying hid just before you took to running,” said the other man.“I was not lying hid anywhere,” I answered. “I was going along from paying a visit to Roger Riddle, after seeing his son Mark, who was caught by the Squire’s keepers, and accused of poaching, when being tired I sat down to rest and fell asleep.”“Whereabouts were you sleeping?” asked the smuggler.“On the ground,” I answered.“So I suppose,” said the man, with a laugh. “But whereabouts on the ground?”“Not far from the old barn, to the best of my recollection; but it was too dark when I started to make out where I had been.”This answer seemed to satisfy my interrogator. I was afraid that he would inquire every moment whether I had heard the conversation going on within the building.“Well, my lad,” he said, “take care you don’t shove your nose into places where you’re not wanted. If you’re a friend of old Riddle’s, I don’t suppose you’ll have any ill-feeling against the smugglers. So now, good-night. You would have saved us a long run if you hadn’t been in such a hurry to get home.”Thankful to escape so easily, I told the men I was sorry to have given them so much trouble. They accompanied me to a gate not far off, over which I climbed into the lane. I then, as fast as my sprained ankle would let me, made the best of my way home. I found that my family had been somewhat alarmed at my non-appearance. My father, who always took matters coolly, accepted my excuses, but Aunt Deb scolded me roundly for having played truant.“What business had you to go to trouble Sir Reginald about that young scapegrace Riddle?” she asked, in her usual stern manner. “He’ll consider that you and your friend are alike. He’ll not be far wrong either. You have lost all chance, if you ever had one, of interesting Sir Reginald in your favour. You may as well give up all hope at once of being a midshipman. Now I suppose you want some supper, though you don’t deserve it. You’re always giving trouble to Betsy in coming home at irregular hours.”“Thank you,” I said, “I’m not so very hungry. I’ll go into the kitchen and get some bread and cheese; that is all I want before I go to bed.”So thus I made my escape. I had no opportunity that night of informing my father of what I had heard, but when we went to our room I gave Ned an account of my adventures.“I would advise you, Dick, not to interfere in the matter,” said Ned. “It’s all very well for our father to preach against smuggling; the smugglers themselves don’t mind it a bit; but were he to take any active measures they would very likely burn the house down, or play us some other trick which would not be pleasant.”Notwithstanding what Ned said, I determined to inform Sir Reginald of what I had heard, still hoping that by so doing I should gain his favour.

I form plans against the smugglers—Ned’s brotherly advice—I continue to visit old Riddle—He presents me with a cutter—My first lessons in sailing—Reception of my present at home—Aunt Deb again gives her opinion—A present in return—Sudden disappearance of Mark, which leads to a further expression of sentiments on the part of Aunt Deb—I visit Leighton Hall—My interview with the Squire—I obtain permission to visit Mark in prison—“Better than doing nothing”—I console Old Roger—“A prison’s a bad place for a boy”—Returning homewards, I unexpectedly gain some important information—The barn—The smuggler’s conference—Rather too near to be pleasant—I contrive to escape—Am pursued and captured by the smugglers, but finally released—Aunt Deb’s disapproval of my friendship for Mark Riddle.

I form plans against the smugglers—Ned’s brotherly advice—I continue to visit old Riddle—He presents me with a cutter—My first lessons in sailing—Reception of my present at home—Aunt Deb again gives her opinion—A present in return—Sudden disappearance of Mark, which leads to a further expression of sentiments on the part of Aunt Deb—I visit Leighton Hall—My interview with the Squire—I obtain permission to visit Mark in prison—“Better than doing nothing”—I console Old Roger—“A prison’s a bad place for a boy”—Returning homewards, I unexpectedly gain some important information—The barn—The smuggler’s conference—Rather too near to be pleasant—I contrive to escape—Am pursued and captured by the smugglers, but finally released—Aunt Deb’s disapproval of my friendship for Mark Riddle.

I have taken up so much space in describing the adventures of old Riddle, that I must be as brief as I can with my own. Although I had been inclined to think smugglers very fine fellows, I had lately heard so much against them that I began to consider it would be a very meritorious act if I could gain information which might lead to the capture of some of them; besides which, I flattered myself Sir Reginald would be so highly pleased at my conduct that he would exert himself more than he at present seemed inclined to do, to obtain me an appointment as midshipman on board a man-of-war. I kept my ideas to myself; I didn’t venture to mention them even to the old sailor, as I suspected that if not actually in league with the smugglers, he was friendly to them. I thought it better also to say nothing about it to my father, for although I knew that he would be pleased should I succeed, he might very naturally dread the danger I should have to run in my undertaking. How to set about the matter was the difficulty. I had no intention of acting a treacherous part, or to try to become friendly with the smugglers, for the purpose of betraying them. My plan was to hunt about to try and find out their hiding-places, and where any cargoes were to be run; then to give information to the baronet. The only person to whom I confided my plan was Ned, under a promise of secrecy. He tried to dissuade me, pointing out that it was a very doubtful proceeding at the best, and that, should I succeed, the smugglers would be sure to take vengeance on me.

“They will either shoot you or carry you off to sea, and drown you, or put you on board some outward-bound ship going to the coast of Africa, or round Cape Horn; and it may be years before you get back, if you ever return at all,” said Ned.

Still his arguments didn’t prevail with me, and I only undertook to be cautious. Had he not given his promise to keep my intentions secret, he would, I suspect, have told our father or Aunt Deb, and effectual means would have been taken to prevent me from carrying out my plan. A considerable time passed by, and although I was on the watch, I could gain no information regarding the proceedings of the smugglers. During this period I paid several visits to old Riddle, who always seemed glad to see me. I was highly delighted one day when he presented me with a cutter, which he had carved out and rigged expressly for me. It was about two feet long and of a proportionable width, fitted with blocks, so that I could lower or hoist up the sails, and set such canvas as the wind would allow. The inside was of a dark salmon colour, the bottom was painted and burnished to look like copper, while the rest was of a jet black. Altogether I was highly delighted with the craft—the first I had ever possessed—and I only wished she was large enough to enable me to go aboard her, so that I might sail in her.

Near old Rogers’ house was a lagoon of considerable length and breadth, filled by the sea at high tide. It was open to all winds, and was thus a capital place for sailing a model. He and Mark at once accompanied me to it, and they having trimmed the sails, and placed the rudder in the proper position, the model vessel went as steadily as if the ship had had a crew on board. When she had finished her voyage across the lagoon, the old sailor, taking her out, showed me how to trim the sails. I then, carrying her back to the place whence she started, set her off myself. I had fancied that I could make her sail directly before the wind; but he explained the impossibility of doing this without a person on board to steer, as she would have a tendency to luff up to the wind. He evidently took a pleasure in teaching me, and I didn’t grow weary of learning, so that at the end of the first day I fancied I could manage my little craft to perfection. I called her “The Hope.” He promised to have the name painted on her stern by the next day I came. I went almost day after day for a week or more. At last old Roger declared I could sail “The Hope” as well as he could. Sometimes Mark came with me, but he didn’t take as much interest in the amusement as I did, he being more accustomed to practical sailing; besides which he had other employments into which he didn’t think fit to initiate me. As I before said, he frequently went fishing on the Squire’s ponds, and from a light fowling-piece which I saw in his room, together with several nets and other contrivances for catching game, I suspected that he also spent some of his time in the Squire’s preserves. I didn’t like to hint to him that I had any suspicion on the subject. When he saw my eyes directed towards a gun, he observed—

“I sometimes go out wild-duck shooting in the winter. My gun is not large enough for the purpose, so when I can contrive to get up close enough I now and then kill a bird or two.”

“I should think your gun was more suitable for killing partridges or hares or pheasants,” I remarked.

“Ah, yes, so it may be; but then pheasants and partridges and hares are game, and I should run the risk of being hauled up before the Squire if I were to bag any.”

He laughed in a peculiar way as he spoke. I tried to get information from him about the smugglers; but if he knew anything he held his tongue, evidently considering it wiser not to trust me. At last, as I wanted to show my cutter to Ned, my sister, and the rest, I told old Roger that I should like to carry it home. To this he raised no objection.

“You’ll find her rather a heavy load, Master Dick,” he said. “However, you can rest on your way. I advise you to stow the sails first, so that if you meet a breeze they will not press against you.”

I did as he advised me, lowered the mainsail and stowed it as he had shown me how to do, and lowered the foresail and jib. Mark had gone out that morning and had not returned, or he would have helped me, I had no doubt. Wishing old Roger, Mrs Roger, and Nancy good-bye, I set out.

Sometimes I carried the cutter on one shoulder, sometimes on the other, and then under my arm; but before I got half way I began to wish that there was a canal between old Roger’s cottage and the vicarage. My arms and shoulders ached with the load. After resting some time, I once again started and managed at last to get home. “The Hope” just as I had expected, met with general admiration from my brothers and sisters. They were much astonished to see me unfurl the sails, and all wished to come and see her sail. I promised to give them that pleasure, provided they would undertake to carry the cutter between them. Aunt Deb was the only person who turned up her nose at seeing my model.

“Mr Riddle might have thought of some other present to give the boy,” she observed; “there was no necessity indeed for his giving a present at all. Dick’s head is already too much turned towards sea matters, and this will only make him think of them more than ever. I shall advise your father to return the vessel to the old sailor, with the request that he will dispose of it to some one else. In my opinion, it was very wrong of him to make such a present without first asking leave.”

I thought it better to say nothing, and Aunt Deb didn’t carry out her intentions. My mother, who was always generously inclined, gave me leave to take a few pots of jam in return. A few days afterwards Ned and I, and two of my sisters, set out to carry our present. They had been interested in what I had told them about the old sailor and his pretty daughter, and wanted to see them. On our arrival they received us in a friendly way, and Mrs Riddle and Mary hurried to place chairs for my sisters. They thanked us much for the present we had brought. I observed that they all looked graver than usual. I inquired for Mark.

“He hasn’t come home since yesterday evening,” answered his father. “I don’t fancy that any harm has befallen him; but still I can’t help thinking all sorts of things. If he doesn’t come back soon, I must set out to look for him.”

I found that Mark had taken his gun, and said that he was going along the shore to get a shot at a gull, but it was not as yet the season for wild fowl to visit the coast. Still I could not help fancying that old Roger knew more about Mark’s intended proceedings than he thought fit to tell me. It struck me that perhaps the smugglers had something to do with the matter. Had I been alone I should have offered to have accompanied him; but he didn’t ask me, and indeed seemed to wish that we should take our departure. Telling my sisters, therefore, that it was time to go home, we wished the family good-bye, and set out on our return. At tea that evening my sisters mentioned the disappearance of Mark.

“Depend upon it that boy has got into mischief of some sort,” observed Aunt Deb; “though I never saw him that I know of, I am very sure from the remarks Dick has made that he is a wild monkey, and a very unfit companion for a young gentleman.”

I defended Mark, and asserted that it was just as likely that he had met with some accident.

“At all events, I intend to go over to-morrow morning, and inquire what has happened to him,” I said. “I don’t remember making any remarks which would lead you Aunt Deb, to suppose that he was otherwise than a well-conducted fellow. He seems much attached to his family, and they’re evidently very fond of him.”

“Perhaps his father spoils him as other parents are apt to do,” remarked Aunt Deb, glancing at the Vicar. “The sooner you break off your intimacy with him the better in my opinion—and now you are aware of my sentiments.”

The latter was a remark Aunt Deb usually made at the conclusion of an argument, by which she intended it to be understood that her opinion was not to be disputed.

Next morning, without waiting for breakfast, taking only a crust of bread and a cup of milk, I set off, anxious to learn what had happened to my friend Mark. On nearing the cottage I saw Mary at the door.

“Oh! Master Dick, I’m so glad you’re come,” she exclaimed. “Father and mother are in a great taking. Mark has got into trouble. When he went out yesterday evening he met Jack Quilter and Tom Bass, and they persuaded him to go shooting where he ought not to have gone, and all three were caught by Sir Reginald’s keepers. They had a fight for it, and Quilter and Bass knocked one of the keepers down, and would have treated him worse if Mark had not interfered. Three other keepers coming up, they were all carried off to the Hall, where they have been locked up ever since. Father only heard of it yesterday evening after you went. He at once set off to try and see Sir Reginald, and he only got back late last night, or rather this morning, so he has only just now got up. He said that the Squire was very savage with him, and threatened to send Mark off to sea. It was with great difficulty that father got leave to see Mark, who told him how he had saved the keeper’s life, but the Squire would not believe it, and said that he had been caught poaching, and must take the consequences.”

“I’m very sorry to hear this,” I said to Mary; “but don’t despair of your brother getting off. I’ll ask my father to plead for him; and if he won’t do that, I’ll go myself and tell the Squire what a capital fellow Mark is. It would be a shame to send him to sea against his will, although he might be ready enough to go of his own accord.”

After I had talked the matter over with Mary for some time, I went into the cottage, where I found Mrs Riddle looking very downcast, and soon afterwards old Roger made his appearance. He repeated what Mary had said, and added that he intended to engage the services of Lawyer Roe to defend Mark, though the expenses would be greater than he could well bear. I was afraid, however, that Lawyer Roe could do nothing for Mark, taken as he had been with a gun in his hands, in Sir Reginald’s preserves, should the baronet resolve to prosecute. I again offered to go off at once to see Sir Reginald. I however much doubted that my father would undertake the mission, especially as Aunt Deb would endeavour to persuade him to have nothing to do with the matter. Mrs Riddle and Mary pressed me to take some breakfast, which they had just prepared, and as by this time I was very hungry, I gladly accepted their invitation. As it was important to get early to the Hall, directly breakfast was over I started, resolved to employ every means I could to get Mark liberated. It didn’t occur to me that probably Sir Reginald would pay no attention to my request, or that he would consider my interference as a piece of impertinence. I made up my mind to speak boldly and forcibly, and felt very confident that I should gain my object. Old Roger accompanied me part of the way, but he thought it was better not to be seen near the Hall, lest it should be supposed I had been influenced by him. I was but a little fellow, it must be remembered, and without any experience of the world, or my hopes would not have risen so high.

“Never fear, Mr Riddle,” said I, as I parted from the old sailor. “I’ll manage, by hook or by crook, to get Mark set free, so tell Mrs Riddle and Mary to keep up their spirits.”

When I reached the Hall, I walked boldly up to the front porch, and gave a sturdy pull at the bell. A powdered footman opened the door. In a firm voice I asked to see Sir Reginald.

“He is at breakfast.”

“Then say Mr Richard Cheveley has called, and begs to see him on an important matter.”

The footman gave an equivocal smile down at me, and went into the breakfast-room at one side of the Hall.

I heard a lady’s voice say—

“Oh! Do let him come in.”

The servant reappearing, showed me into the breakfast-room, in which several ladies were at one end of a well-covered table. Lady Knowsley was seated, presiding at the tea-urn, with several young ladies on either side, and Sir Reginald at the foot.

I made my bow as I entered. Lady Knowsley held out her hand without rising, and Sir Reginald turned partly round in his chair and gave me a nod, then went on eating his breakfast, while the young ladies smiled. The footman placed a chair for me in a vacant place at the table.

“You have had a long walk, and must be ready for breakfast,” said Lady Knowles, in a kind tone.

“Thank you, I took some on my way,” I answered, not wishing to loose time by having to repeat an operation I felt that I could not perform in the presence of so many young ladies with my accustomed appetite.

“You must have got up another appetite by this time,” observed Sir Reginald. “Come youngster! Here is an egg and some ham. Julia, cut him a slice of bread, and Lady Knowles will supply you with tea. Fall to, now, and let me see what sort of a man you are.”

Thus pressed, I was compelled to eat what was set before me, which I did without any great difficulty. Sir Reginald was too polite to ask me the object of my visit till I had finished. He pressed me to take more, but I declined, and I then told him that I had heard that Mark Riddle had been taken poaching with some other lads who had led him astray.

“That is your opinion, Master Cheveley,” observed Sir Reginald, with a laugh; “why the fellow is the most arrant young poacher in the neighbourhood. My people have been aware of it for a long time, but have hitherto been unable to capture him.”

“I hope that they are mistaken, Sir Reginald,” I observed; “I have seen a good deal of Mark Riddle, and his father is a very fine old sailor.”

“He may be that, although I have reason to believe that he is, besides, as determined a smuggler as any on the coast, though he is too cunning to be caught,” answered the baronet. “No, no, Master Cheveley; young Mark must be sent to prison unless he is allowed as a favour to go to sea instead.”

I was determined not to be defeated, notwithstanding what the baronet had said. I still pleaded for Mark, and the ladies, who are generally ready to take the weaker side joined with me.

“Suppose he is guilty. He is very young. If he would promise not to poach again, will it not be kind to let him off?” said Lady Knowles.

“It would be kinder to give him a lesson which he will not forget,” said Sir Reginald; “notwithstanding all his promises, he would be certain to poach again. He might end by killing a keeper, and have to be sent to the gallows, as has been the fate of many. Poachers and smugglers must be put down at all costs.”

In spite of my intention to persevere, I found that I hadn’t the slightest chance of moving the feelings of the baronet. I, however, supported by the ladies, got leave to pay Mark a visit, and I learned from them that he and the other men were not to be sent off to prison until the following day, when the constables would come to carry them away. I stayed for some time, the young ladies chatting pleasantly with me, till at length thinking that I ought to take my departure, I asked to be allowed to go to Sir Reginald’s study, to obtain an order for me to visit Mark.

“I’ll get it for you,” said Miss Julia; “we all feel compassion for the poor lad, who has evidently been led astray by bad companions.” In a short time she returned, with an order to the constable in charge of the prisoners.

Thanking her very much, and wishing her and her sisters and Lady Knowles good-bye, I hastened round to the back of the house, where the lock-up room was situated.

The constable, on seeing the order, admitted me without hesitation.

“Well, Master Dick, this is kind of you to come and see me when I’m in trouble,” said Mark, immediately stretching out his hand. “From what I hear, it will go hard with me.”

I asked him if he could not prove that he had been misled by others, and would promise not to go poaching again.

“No; that I can’t, either one or the other,” he answered promptly. “I went of my own free will, and if I was let out, as long as I had a gun and powder and shot, I should go and make use of it. But I don’t want to go to prison; and if I’m sent to sea, I should like to choose how and when I am to go.”

“You must find it very dull work sitting here all day, having nothing to do,” I remarked. “Would you like to make some blocks? I have got some wood and a sharp knife, with a saw and file, in my pocket. It will be better than doing nothing.”

Mark gave a sharp look in my face, and said—

“Yes, that I should. I never like to have my hands idle. You shall have the blocks for your cutter when I have finished them.”

Thinking only of the amusement it would afford Mark, I handed him out the necessary tools, and promised to obtain some more wood for him to work on should he be sent to prison. The other two men were lying down, apparently asleep, while I paid my visit to Mark. They took no notice of me. After I left, instead of going directly home, I returned to old Roger, that I might report the ill-success of my visit to Sir Reginald.

“I feared it would be so from the first,” said Roger. “A prison is a bad place for a boy, and I’d rather he had been sent off to sea.”

“I’ll ask my father to try what he can do, though I’m afraid he’ll not be more successful than I have been.”

“Do, Master Dick,” said Mrs Riddle. “We should not let any stone remain unturned. I would not have our Mark sent to prison for anything. It would be the ruin of the boy.”

I of course promised to do my best. It was getting late in the day, for I had spent a considerable time at the Hall, and a further period had been occupied in getting to old Roger’s cottage. Mrs Riddle insisted on my stopping to take tea, and as I had had no dinner I was very glad to accept her invitation. I remained on afterwards for some time, talking to the old sailor, so that it was pretty late when I at length set out to return home. As I had told Ned where I was going I knew that they would not be anxious about me, and therefore did not hurry my steps. I had got about half way, when feeling tired I sat myself down to rest, with my back against the side of an old barn, at a spot whence I could obtain a good view of the sea. I sat for some time watching the vessels passing up and down channel, and observing a few boats putting out for their night’s fishing from Leighton Cove. The weather was warm, and I was sheltered from the light breeze which blew off the land. I had been on foot all day since early dawn, and very naturally became drowsy. Instead of at once jumping up I sat on, and in consequence fell fast asleep. When I awoke I found that the sun had set, and that the daylight was fast departing. I was just going to get up, when I heard voices proceeding from the inside of the barn. Though not intending to play the part of an eavesdropper, I could not help listening to what they said. The men spoke in low voices, so that I didn’t catch everything, but I heard enough to convince me that the speakers were smugglers arranging a spot where a cargo was to be run the first night when there would be no moon, and the wind blowing off shore. As far as I could make out, it was to be close to where I then was. Below me was a little sandy bay, where the boats could come ashore even should there be a heavy sea running outside.

One of the speakers, whom I knew to be Ned Burden, lived in a cottage hard by, and he was to show a light in his window should the coast be clear. At present the weather was far too favourable for their purpose, but they counted on a change in four or five days. At last I heard them fix on the following Wednesday. I was afraid of moving lest the smugglers should hear me, and I knew that if they discovered my whereabout they would look upon me as a spy, especially as everybody was aware of the way my father, had been speaking against smuggling. Still they went on talking, and I heard some more of their designs.

In order to draw off the Revenue-men from the spot, it was proposed to set one or two hayricks on fire at a large farm near Sandgate, when it was supposed that they would collect to try and extinguish the flames, so as to prevent the fire communicating with the other surrounding ricks. As this was sure to be no easy work, it was calculated that the smugglers would have time to run the cargo, and carry the goods away into the interior. It was an opportunity I had long been looking for. I could now, by giving the information I possessed, secure the favour of Sir Reginald, and thus induce him to further my object. I sat on, scarcely daring to breathe, lest I should be heard, and heartily wishing that the men would go away. They had evidently, however, met there for the purpose of discussing various subjects. Ned Burden probably didn’t wish to go far from home, and apparently was unwilling to receive his visitors in his own cottage. He had therefore fixed upon this spot. At last I began to think that they intended to spend the night there. I heard footsteps approaching, and I now feared that I should be discovered; but the new comers followed the path which led to the opposite side of the barn to that where I was sitting. I judged by the voices that there were three of them. They once more went over the matters that the others had before discussed, having apparently no fear of being overheard. They all spoke in their ordinary voices, only occasionally dropping them. “Now is the time,” I thought, “of making my escape; while they are talking they will not hear me, and I may creep away to a distance without being discovered.” I put my plan into execution. The men continued talking on; their voices sounded fainter and fainter as I got farther away from the barn. Fancying that I was safe, I at last rose to my feet, intending to run as fast as my legs could carry me. Scarcely, however, had I began to move forward, when I heard a shout, followed by the sound of footsteps. I fully expected, should the smugglers fancy that I had overheard them to get a knock on the head if I was overtaken. I had always been tolerably fleet of foot, and as I had no desire to be so treated, I set off running as hard as I could. I hadn’t got far, however, before I fancied I heard some one coming. In a short time I was nearly certain of it, but I didn’t stop to listen. In daylight I should have had no difficulty in keeping ahead of my pursuers, but the ground was rough, and I had to turn aside to avoid bushes and rocks. Still the impediments in my way would also assist to stop them, and I didn’t despair of escaping. I had to cross over a ridge, at the top of which I was exposed to view. I had just reached it, when I heard some one shout. “You may shout as loud as you like,” thought I, “but I’m not going to stop in consequence.” Down the hill I rushed, hoping soon to find shelter, so as to be able to turn off to one side or the other, and thus to evade my pursuers. I knew that a little way on was a lane which led directly to the village, and that if I could once get into it I might run on without much chance of being overtaken. I could see before me a thick hedge, through which I should have to get into the lane. I was making my way towards it, when down I came into a deep ditch or watercourse, the existence of which I had forgotten. It was perfectly dry, but I was severely hurt by the fall, and for some seconds I lay unable to move. I soon, however, recovered, and attempted to scramble out on the opposite side. But the bank was steep, and the top was above my reach. I fancied that it would be lower farther down, and ran or rather scrambled on in that direction. It didn’t occur to me at the time that it would be wiser to remain perfectly still, when my pursuers, if they were continuing the chase, would have passed me unobserved in the darkness. I at last reached a part where the bank was broken away, and began climbing up, when I heard footsteps close to me; and, as I gained the top, I saw a man coming along at full speed on the opposite side. I determined, however, not to be caught if I could help it; but to my dismay, when I began to run, I found that I had sprained my ankle. This, though it didn’t stop me altogether, prevented me from running as fast as before; but if I could get through the hedge I thought that I might keep ahead, or that the smugglers would not venture to follow me. To ascertain how far off they were I gave a glance over my shoulder. This was fatal to my success, for my foot caught in a low bush and down I came. In vain I endeavoured to regain my feet. Next instant I found myself in the grasp of two men.

“Hulloa! Youngster; what made you try to get away from us?” asked one of them, in an angry tone.

“I am on my way home, and wish to get there as soon as possible,” I answered.

“Who are you?” asked the man.

I told him without hesitation.

“And your father has joined Sir Reginald and the other squires about here in persecuting the smugglers.”

“I don’t see what that has to do with my being in a hurry to get home,” I replied.

“Maybe not; but we want to know where you were lying hid just before you took to running,” said the other man.

“I was not lying hid anywhere,” I answered. “I was going along from paying a visit to Roger Riddle, after seeing his son Mark, who was caught by the Squire’s keepers, and accused of poaching, when being tired I sat down to rest and fell asleep.”

“Whereabouts were you sleeping?” asked the smuggler.

“On the ground,” I answered.

“So I suppose,” said the man, with a laugh. “But whereabouts on the ground?”

“Not far from the old barn, to the best of my recollection; but it was too dark when I started to make out where I had been.”

This answer seemed to satisfy my interrogator. I was afraid that he would inquire every moment whether I had heard the conversation going on within the building.

“Well, my lad,” he said, “take care you don’t shove your nose into places where you’re not wanted. If you’re a friend of old Riddle’s, I don’t suppose you’ll have any ill-feeling against the smugglers. So now, good-night. You would have saved us a long run if you hadn’t been in such a hurry to get home.”

Thankful to escape so easily, I told the men I was sorry to have given them so much trouble. They accompanied me to a gate not far off, over which I climbed into the lane. I then, as fast as my sprained ankle would let me, made the best of my way home. I found that my family had been somewhat alarmed at my non-appearance. My father, who always took matters coolly, accepted my excuses, but Aunt Deb scolded me roundly for having played truant.

“What business had you to go to trouble Sir Reginald about that young scapegrace Riddle?” she asked, in her usual stern manner. “He’ll consider that you and your friend are alike. He’ll not be far wrong either. You have lost all chance, if you ever had one, of interesting Sir Reginald in your favour. You may as well give up all hope at once of being a midshipman. Now I suppose you want some supper, though you don’t deserve it. You’re always giving trouble to Betsy in coming home at irregular hours.”

“Thank you,” I said, “I’m not so very hungry. I’ll go into the kitchen and get some bread and cheese; that is all I want before I go to bed.”

So thus I made my escape. I had no opportunity that night of informing my father of what I had heard, but when we went to our room I gave Ned an account of my adventures.

“I would advise you, Dick, not to interfere in the matter,” said Ned. “It’s all very well for our father to preach against smuggling; the smugglers themselves don’t mind it a bit; but were he to take any active measures they would very likely burn the house down, or play us some other trick which would not be pleasant.”

Notwithstanding what Ned said, I determined to inform Sir Reginald of what I had heard, still hoping that by so doing I should gain his favour.

Chapter Six.I revisit the baronet—My information and its worth—Am somewhat taken aback at my reception—Well out of it—Mark’s escape—Old Riddle’s gratitude—A night of adventure—The run—Night attack on Kidbrooke Farm—The fire—My curiosity overcomes my prudence—The struggle on the beach—The luck of the “Saucy Bess,” and ill-luck of Mark—I am again captured by the smugglers—Buried in a chest—My struggle for freedom, and its result—A vault in the old mill—My explorations in the vault.The next morning I found my father in his study before breakfast. I told him of my having overheard the smugglers arranging the plans for running a cargo shortly, and asked him whether he wished me to let Sir Reginald know.“You are in duty bound to do so,” he answered. “At the same time you must take care it is not known that you gave the information. He’ll certainly be pleased, and will be more inclined than before to assist you. You had better set off directly breakfast is over, and I will write a note for you to deliver, which will be an excuse for your appearance at the Hall. Do not say anything about the matter to any one else, as things that we fancy are known only to ourselves are apt to get abroad.”I followed my father’s advice, and said nothing during breakfast. As soon as it was over I set out. Aunt Deb saw me, and shouted out, asking me where I was going; but pretending not to hear her, I ran on. I suspect I made her very irate. I noted the people I met on my way, and among others I encountered Ned Burden. He looked hard at me, but said nothing beyond returning my “Good morning, Mr Burden,” with “Good morning, Master Dick,” and I passed on. I looked back shortly afterwards for a moment, and saw that he had stopped, and was apparently watching me. As soon as I reached the Hall I gave my father’s note to a servant, saying that I was waiting to see Sir Reginald. In a short time the man came back and asked me to follow him into the study.“Well, Master Richard Cheveley,” remarked the baronet, without inviting me to sit down, “I wonder you have the face to show yourself here after what has occurred.”“What have I done, sir?” I asked with astonishment.“Connived or assisted at the escape of the poachers I had shut up in my strong room yesterday evening, waiting the arrival of the constables to convey them to prison.”“I beg your pardon, Sir Reginald. You must be under a mistake,” I exclaimed. “I have in no way assisted any poachers to escape. I merely yesterday, with your permission, visited the boy Mark Riddle. He had been captured with two persons much older than himself, and he was, I believe, led astray by them.”“You, or somebody else, left them some tools—a file and a small saw—with which they managed to cut away a bar in the strong room and effect their escape. Here are the instruments, which they must have dropped as they were getting off. Do you recognise them?”As Sir Reginald was speaking I recollected giving the knife and file and saw to Mark, that he might amuse himself by cutting out some blocks. When I saw them I at once acknowledged them as mine, telling the baronet my object in giving them to Mark.“It was thoughtless, to say the least of it, and a very suspicious circumstance, young gentleman,” remarked Sir Reginald.“Have they not been retaken?” I inquired, anxious to know what had become of my friend Mark.“No, there is but little chance of that,” he answered, in a tone of vexation. “Now, let me know what you have come about. Your father gives no reason for your visit.”Without claiming any merit, I at once gave a clear account of all I had heard on the previous evening. Sir Reginald appeared much interested, and his manner became more friendly than at first.“I am ready to believe that you had no intention to assist young Riddle to escape,” he said at last, after taking notes of all I told him. “Now return home, and keep your own counsel.”I confess that I was secretly very glad Mark had made his escape. I hoped that he would return to his father, and keep in hiding till the affair had blown over, and also give up poaching for the future. I wanted as soon as possible to go and see the old sailor, and learn what had become of Mark, but I knew that my father would be expecting me; and accordingly, after leaving the Hall, went directly home. My father complimented me more than I deserved on the way I had conducted the matter. I didn’t tell him just then of my having unintentionally assisted Mark and the other poachers to make their escape.“If the smugglers and their cargo are taken, you will deservedly have the credit of the affair, and Sir Reginald will, I hope, feel bound to assist you as you desire,” he observed.I had to wait till the next day to go over and see old Roger. I almost expected to find that Mark had returned home, and was concealed in the house; but none of his family knew anything about him, except that he had escaped from Sir Reginald’s strong room. They all thanked me warmly for the assistance I had given him, and of which they had heard by some means or other. They would not believe that I had had no intention, when I lent him my knife and other things, of helping him to get out. I took care to return home at an early hour, as I had no wish to encounter Ned Burden or the other men on the way. I waited somewhat impatiently for the result of the information I had given. I was very sure the baronet would take the necessary steps for capturing the smugglers. The weather, which had for a long time been fine, now completely changed. A strong westerly gale sprung up, the sky was clouded over, and as there was no moon the nights were very dark. The evening on which I had heard the smugglers propose to run the cargo arrived. I should have been wise to have gone to bed at the regular hour, as if I had had nothing to do in the matter. Instead of that, as soon as Ned was asleep I slipped on my clothes and went out by the back door, which I carefully closed behind me. As soon as I got clear of the village, and could see to a distance, I turned my eyes towards Kidbrooke Farm, which the smugglers had planned to attack in order to draw off the coastguard-men from the spot where the cargo was to be run. In a few minutes I observed a bright light burst forth from the surrounding darkness, and rapidly increase until it assumed the appearance of a huge bonfire. I then knew that the outlaws had carried out the first part of their plan, as I concluded they would the second. It seemed to me that the whole farm and all the stacks would speedily be in a blaze. Eager to see the fire, I ran towards the farm. On getting nearer, the hum of human voices showed me that a number of people had assembled, some of whom were engaged in throwing water over the stacks, others in pulling down the burning one. As I got up to them, I found that they were mostly labourers from Leighton, together with those belonging to the farm, with a few of the villagers from Sandgate. There were, I remarked, none of the revenue-men present, by which I concluded that they had not been drawn away from the coast, as the smugglers expected they would be. Precautions having been taken in time, and there being plenty of hands to extinguish the flames, the fire didn’t communicate to the other ricks; and, as far as I could see, even a portion of the first was saved.It would have been better for me had I returned home and gone to bed again; but I was curious to know if the “Saucy Bess” had succeeded in running her cargo, or whether Sir Reginald had acted on the information I had given him, and had sent the coastguard-men to watch for the smugglers and capture them. Without stopping, therefore, in the neighbourhood of the burning rick, I hurried away towards the spot at which I had heard Ned Burden and his companions propose to run the cargo. I must have been running on for twenty minutes or so when I heard a pistol-shot fired; it was succeeded by two or three others. This made me more than ever eager to ascertain what was going forward. I doubled my speed. The path was tolerably good, and I knew the way. All the time I had not met a single person. After some time I heard more shouts, sounding much nearer, and cries mingled with the clashing of cutlasses, so it seemed to me. I had no doubt that the coastguard-men and the smugglers were having a desperate fight, the latter endeavouring to defend their property, and the former to capture it. Which would succeed in their object seemed doubtful. I pictured the whole scene, though as yet I could see nothing. This I was eager to do, forgetting that bullets flying about were no respecters of persons. At last I reached the top of a cliff overlooking the bay, whence I could see a lugger, which I guessed to be the “Saucy Bess,” with her sails loose, a short distance from the shore, and two or three boats near her; while on the sands were a number of men, who from their movements, and the babel of tongues arising from the spot, were evidently struggling. That the revenue-men had the best of it, I had no doubt. It appeared to me that they had captured part of the cargo, and some of the smugglers, and that others were endeavouring to rescue their comrades. That this was the case I had little doubt, when I saw the lugger’s head turned seawards, and presently she disappeared in the gloom of night I was now satisfied that Sir Reginald had acted on the information I had given him, and that he would find it had been correct. I was at last about to return home, when, just as I reached a lane leading from the cliffs, I heard footsteps close to me, and, turning round, saw three men approaching. Whoever they were I thought it better to keep out of their way, and began to run. But they must have seen me, and at once made chase. I could easily have kept ahead, but unfortunately stepping into a deep rut, I stumbled, and before I got under weigh again the men were upon me.“Where are you bound for, youngster?” cried one of them, whom I recognised by the voice to be Ned Burden.“I came to see what was going forward,” I answered.“Not the first time you have done that, young gentleman,” said one, in an angry voice. “We know who you are. Somebody gave information about the run which was to be made to-night, and putting two or three things together no one will doubt that it was you. Shall we heave him over the cliffs, or what shall we do with him, mates?”“Let us take him along with us, at all events,” said one of the other men. “If he has spoiled our plans to-night, he deserves to be knocked on the head.”“Spoilt our plans indeed he has,” said Burden; and he presently detailed to his companions how he had caught me listening at the old barn, and how, not supposingthat I had heard anything of importance, he had let me go.I could not deny this, and I saw that it would be useless to attempt to defend myself. My captors, without more ado, proceeded to tie my arms behind my back, and to bind a handkerchief over my eyes.“Remember, youngster,” said Burden, “if you shout out or utter a word we’ll send a bullet through your head.”From the fierce way in which he spoke I thought he was very likely to do this. I did not tell him that I knew who he was, as I was sure that this would only make matters worse for me. I did not, however, believe that they really meant to kill me; but what they would do was more than I could guess. Two of them taking me one by each arm led me along the road, without wasting another word on me. They walked very fast indeed. Had they not supported me I should have fallen several times. Every moment I thought they would stop. I tried to ascertain in what direction they were leading me, but very soon lost all means of doing so. At length they made me sit down on what I supposed was a bank. I tried to judge from what quarter the wind was blowing, but the spot was sheltered, and sometimes it blew on one cheek and sometimes on the other. I could hear the roar of the waves, by which I knew that I could be at no great distance from the shore. While one of them held me tightly by the arm, the others withdrew to a distance to consult as to how they should proceed. After a time they came back, and we continued our march at the same rate as before. On and on we went. I was getting very tired, and would gladly have again sat down. When I complained, the men laughed at me.“You’ll soon have time enough to rest yourself, youngster,” said one of them. “You may consider yourself fortunate that things are no worse with you.”Finding that it would be useless to say anything more, I held my tongue. I must own that I now bitterly regretted having interfered against the smugglers. They were fully convinced that I had done so, and I could not defend myself. I had heard of the fearful punishment that they had at times inflicted on informers; and even should they spare my life, I thought it too probable that they would ship me off to some distant part of the world, or shut me up in a cavern or some other place from which I could not make my escape. It seemed to me that several hours had passed since I was captured, and that it must now be broad daylight; but the bandage was so tightly secured over my eyes that I could not move it with my eyebrows, nor could I, from my arms being fastened behind my back, get my hands free to do so. Again and again I begged my captors to listen to me and loosen my arms, as the ropes hurt me. When I declared that I could go no farther, one of the men answered fiercely:—“We’ll soon see that, youngster.”He gave me a prod with the point of a knife or cutlass, I could not tell which. It showed me that they were not likely to treat me very ceremoniously. “I must make the best of a bad matter, I suppose,” I thought, and did not attempt to stop. Suddenly the men brought up, and then turning sharp round told me to lift my feet, and I found that we were walking up some wooden steps. This I could judge of by the sound made by our feet. Then we went along a level floor. Presently, after passing through two or three doorways, as I supposed, we descended also by wooden steps, till I felt convinced, by the closeness of the atmosphere, that we had reached a vault.“You may make yourself comfortable here, young gentleman, for the rest of your life,” said one of the men, with a hoarse laugh. “I’ve a notion that you’ll not again be inclined to go and inform against poor fellows who are carrying on their business without wishing to do you or any one else harm.”“Stay; that jacket of his, and his waistcoat, are a great deal too good for him,” observed another man.And forthwith, having released my arms, they took off the garments they spoke of.My first impulse, on getting my hands free, was to try and get the bandage from my eyes, but one of the men caught hold of my hands and prevented me from accomplishing my object. I, however, clutched hold of my clothes with the other, unwilling to give them up; but they quickly mastered me, leaving me only my shirt and trousers. I now began to fear that they intended some serious violence. In vain I struggled; I felt myself lifted up by the shoulders and feet, and placed on a rough board. As I now had my hands free, I immediately tore off the bandage. A gleam of light, which came from one side, showed me that I was in what appeared to be a large chest, placed on its side; but before I could turn myself round the lid was shut down, and I heard the men securing it. I was thus imprisoned in, so far as I could tell, a living tomb. I shouted and shrieked, and tried to force open the lid. My captors were holding it on the outside, and it seemed to me were driving in screws. I could hear them talking outside, but what they said I could not make out. Could it be possible that they intended to leave me here to perish by hunger? The act would be too diabolical for the worst of wretches to think of, and yet what other reason could they have for shutting me up in such a place? Finding that I could not release myself, I thought I would try to move their feelings.“I am very sorry if I have brought you or any others into trouble,” I said. “If you’ll ask Roger Riddle, he’ll tell you that I have no ill-feeling towards smugglers. I was the means of getting his son Mark out of prison. If you keep me here you’ll make my father and mother very miserable, for they won’t know what has become of me. You can’t be so cruel, surely.”The men went talking on. I was sure they heard me, though they made no answer. It then occurred to me that perhaps they had shut me up in the chest for the purpose of carrying me on board a vessel, and that I should then be set free and enjoy the light of heaven and the warmth of the sun. Then I recollected having read how cruelly boys are treated on board ship, and that if I were sent under such circumstances I should have to lead a dog’s life at the best. Well, it was some consolation to have reason to hope that I was not to be murdered as I at first feared, or to be kept shut up in this horrible vault for an indefinite period, when I might be forgotten, and possibly be allowed to die of starvation.These thoughts passed rapidly through my mind. As soon as I grew calm, I listened to ascertain what the men were about. As far as I could judge, in a short time they quitted the vault, and I was left alone. I listened and listened. No sound could I hear. A sufficient amount of air came through the chinks in the chest, and enabled me to breathe without difficulty. I had no notion of staying where I was without some endeavour to extricate myself. I knew that after a time I should grow weak from want of food. I was in total darkness, and the chest, for so I supposed it, was large enough to enable me to move about. It struck me, as I was feeling round the sides, that it was perhaps a bunk, such as is fitted on board ship for the men to sleep in. If my captors had not taken away my jacket I should have had my knife, and I might then, I thought, have cut my way out; but they left me without any means of effecting my purpose. The only way of freeing myself was to knock out by main strength either the top or one side of the bunk or chest. I feared that if I at once commenced doing this the noise I should have to make would attract the attention of my jailers. I therefore lay still for some time, listening attentively. Not a sound of any description reached my ears. I thought that it must now be day, though no light penetrated into the vault. If it had I should have seen it, I thought, through the chinks of the chest. It was very roughly put together, and this circumstance gave me better hope of being able to force it open. At length I determined to commence operations, and placing myself on my back, with one hand to defend my head, and one foot against the end, I struck out with the other on the part above me. A cracking sound encouraged me to go on. Each time I struck out the planks appeared to move slightly. I used so much force that every nerve in my body was jarred, and I was afraid of laming myself. Notwithstanding that, I persevered, stopping every now and then to listen, lest my captors should return; but as no one came I was satisfied that they had gone away, and now redoubled my efforts. Several loud cracks were the result; and at length, to my intense satisfaction, the planks above me fell off, shattered by my foot.I was thankful for my success. At all events I should not have to die shut up in a chest. But I was very far from being free. Getting up on my feet I thrust my head through the hole I had made, and tore back the broken pieces of plank. Had I possessed a light I should have seen how next to proceed, but I was still in total darkness. I could not tell what I might find outside the chest. Moving carefully I climbed out, moving about with my feet to find the ground, which was lower I thus ascertained than the bottom of the chest, but how much lower I could not tell. I therefore held tight on with my hands while I let myself down, and I then discovered that it had been placed on another chest of about the same size; but I had to move very cautiously, as there might be still some lower depth beneath my feet, though I didn’t think that very likely. The ground was dry and hard, without either bricks or flagstones. This I found out by stopping down and touching it with my hand. I now began to move on very carefully, feeling my way from chest to chest. I discovered in my progress not only chests, but casks and bales. I had little doubt, therefore, that I had been conveyed to the smugglers’ store, but where it was situated I was totally unable to surmise. That it was some way inland I thought probable, as I could not hear the sound of the surf breaking on the sea shore, which I thought I should have done had I been near the coast. I tried to think if I recollected any building which it was at all probable would be thus used by the smugglers. There were, I at last remembered, two mills not far from the coast, but one was in the possession of too respectable a farmer to allow any lawless proceedings to be carried on in his premises. The other was an old windmill that had been abandoned the last two or three years; two of the arms had fallen down, and the whole building was in a very ruinous and tottering condition. The property I had heard was in Chancery, the exact meaning of which I didn’t understand, but knew no one was ever seen about the place, and that the villagers from the neighbouring hamlet were unwilling to approach it after dark, there being a report that it was haunted by a headless miller, who had been killed while in a fit of drunkenness by his own machinery. Could this be the place, I thought. The idea didn’t make me feel more comfortable, not that I had any strong belief in ghosts or other spirits walking the earth in bodily shape; but yet I didn’t feel perfectly certain that such beings did not exist, and I confess to having had an indefinite dread of seeing the headless miller appear out of the darkness surrounded by a blue light. I tried to banish the idea, and felt much more at my ease. I suddenly recollected that although I was in darkness it was daylight outside, and that the headless miller was possibly resting quietly in his grave in the churchyard a mile away.One thing I had to do, and that was to get out of my prison as soon as possible. I felt round and round the vault. My great object was to discover the steps by which my captors and I had descended, but to my dismay I could not find them. Either they had been drawn up through a trap-door above, or we had come through a door in the side of the vault which had been closed by them when they went out. I searched and searched in vain for such a door, one side consisting of a blank wall partly of stone and partly of perpendicular timbers, which I concluded supported the superstructure. This made me more certain than before that I was in a vault beneath the old mill. I was in hopes by this time that the smugglers had gone away, and that I should thus be able to make my escape without interruption. How to do so was the question. I remembered that we had descended the building by steps to the bottom of the vault. I concluded, therefore, that the roof must be a considerable height above my head. There were numerous boxes, chests, and bales, as far as I could judge, in the vault, and if I had had light I should have found, I thought, little difficulty in piling one upon another, and thus reaching the top; but in the dark this was a difficult and hazardous undertaking. I could scarcely expect to place them with sufficient evenness to make a firm structure, and they might, after I had got up some distance, topple down again with me under them, and perhaps an arm or a leg broken. Still I could think of no other way of getting out. I again felt about, and tried to lift some chests and bales, but they were mostly too heavy for my strength; I might, however, discover some which I could tackle.It must be remembered that all this time I was perfectly ignorant of my surroundings. I was, indeed, in the position of a blind man suddenly placed in a position which he had never before visited without any one to give him a description of the scenery. The only knowledge that I had obtained of the vault was from the sense of touch. I now determined to take a further survey, if so I could call it, of my prison, to start from a certain point to feel my way round, and reach as high as I could, to extend my arms, and to grope along the floor from one side to the other. One point I considered was to my advantage. My captors would suppose that I was shut up in the chest, and would therefore not have taken much trouble to secure the outlet to the vault. Probably, indeed, they had gone away, as they would certainly avoid being seen in the neighbourhood of the old mill during daylight. I didn’t suppose that they intended to murder me, and I therefore expected that they would come back again at night to bring me some food, or perhaps to carry me off and ship me on board some vessel, for such I was convinced was their intention. I must therefore effect my escape before nightfall. The necessity of obtaining food would alone induce me to do this, though as yet I did not feel very hungry.Serious as the situation was, I did not give way to despair. I could not believe that I was doomed to die, but how my deliverance was to be effected was more than I could tell. Again starting from the chest in which I had been shut up, and which I could distinguish by the short fragments of the top, I continued groping my way round and round the vault. My first object was to try and find the door, which I was persuaded existed, as I thought I had previously missed it. Any one who has played at blind man’s buff may have a faint idea of my situation. Only the objects round me remained stationary, whereas in the game people run away from the blinded person, and he has to try and catch them as they run round him. I had the advantage over the blinded man in the game. I was sure that in time I should gain a knowledge of my locality. Time, however, was precious, and it would not do for me to delay my search.I would have given anything for a tinder-box and flint and steel, so that I might light up the vault even for a few seconds; but as that was not to be had, I tried to make use of my other senses. Stretching out my arms and feet as I went along, touching one place with my left hand, while I felt about my head as far as I could reach straight out with my right; I then brought my left up to the spot my right had last touched, and so I went on. Occasionally my right foot struck against a bale or chest which extended beyond the others above it. Had there been an opening in the pile of goods I was sure that I could not have missed it. For the supposed door I searched in vain, and at length came to the conclusion that the only entrance to the vault was from the roof above. It did not occur to me that there might be one above my reach by which my captors might have made their exit with the assistance of a short ladder. Though I had moved slowly, what with the exercise I had taken during the night, and the efforts I had made to get out of the chest, I felt very tired; and, discovering a bale of convenient height, I sat down to rest myself, and to consider with such calmness as I could command, what I should next do.

I revisit the baronet—My information and its worth—Am somewhat taken aback at my reception—Well out of it—Mark’s escape—Old Riddle’s gratitude—A night of adventure—The run—Night attack on Kidbrooke Farm—The fire—My curiosity overcomes my prudence—The struggle on the beach—The luck of the “Saucy Bess,” and ill-luck of Mark—I am again captured by the smugglers—Buried in a chest—My struggle for freedom, and its result—A vault in the old mill—My explorations in the vault.

I revisit the baronet—My information and its worth—Am somewhat taken aback at my reception—Well out of it—Mark’s escape—Old Riddle’s gratitude—A night of adventure—The run—Night attack on Kidbrooke Farm—The fire—My curiosity overcomes my prudence—The struggle on the beach—The luck of the “Saucy Bess,” and ill-luck of Mark—I am again captured by the smugglers—Buried in a chest—My struggle for freedom, and its result—A vault in the old mill—My explorations in the vault.

The next morning I found my father in his study before breakfast. I told him of my having overheard the smugglers arranging the plans for running a cargo shortly, and asked him whether he wished me to let Sir Reginald know.

“You are in duty bound to do so,” he answered. “At the same time you must take care it is not known that you gave the information. He’ll certainly be pleased, and will be more inclined than before to assist you. You had better set off directly breakfast is over, and I will write a note for you to deliver, which will be an excuse for your appearance at the Hall. Do not say anything about the matter to any one else, as things that we fancy are known only to ourselves are apt to get abroad.”

I followed my father’s advice, and said nothing during breakfast. As soon as it was over I set out. Aunt Deb saw me, and shouted out, asking me where I was going; but pretending not to hear her, I ran on. I suspect I made her very irate. I noted the people I met on my way, and among others I encountered Ned Burden. He looked hard at me, but said nothing beyond returning my “Good morning, Mr Burden,” with “Good morning, Master Dick,” and I passed on. I looked back shortly afterwards for a moment, and saw that he had stopped, and was apparently watching me. As soon as I reached the Hall I gave my father’s note to a servant, saying that I was waiting to see Sir Reginald. In a short time the man came back and asked me to follow him into the study.

“Well, Master Richard Cheveley,” remarked the baronet, without inviting me to sit down, “I wonder you have the face to show yourself here after what has occurred.”

“What have I done, sir?” I asked with astonishment.

“Connived or assisted at the escape of the poachers I had shut up in my strong room yesterday evening, waiting the arrival of the constables to convey them to prison.”

“I beg your pardon, Sir Reginald. You must be under a mistake,” I exclaimed. “I have in no way assisted any poachers to escape. I merely yesterday, with your permission, visited the boy Mark Riddle. He had been captured with two persons much older than himself, and he was, I believe, led astray by them.”

“You, or somebody else, left them some tools—a file and a small saw—with which they managed to cut away a bar in the strong room and effect their escape. Here are the instruments, which they must have dropped as they were getting off. Do you recognise them?”

As Sir Reginald was speaking I recollected giving the knife and file and saw to Mark, that he might amuse himself by cutting out some blocks. When I saw them I at once acknowledged them as mine, telling the baronet my object in giving them to Mark.

“It was thoughtless, to say the least of it, and a very suspicious circumstance, young gentleman,” remarked Sir Reginald.

“Have they not been retaken?” I inquired, anxious to know what had become of my friend Mark.

“No, there is but little chance of that,” he answered, in a tone of vexation. “Now, let me know what you have come about. Your father gives no reason for your visit.”

Without claiming any merit, I at once gave a clear account of all I had heard on the previous evening. Sir Reginald appeared much interested, and his manner became more friendly than at first.

“I am ready to believe that you had no intention to assist young Riddle to escape,” he said at last, after taking notes of all I told him. “Now return home, and keep your own counsel.”

I confess that I was secretly very glad Mark had made his escape. I hoped that he would return to his father, and keep in hiding till the affair had blown over, and also give up poaching for the future. I wanted as soon as possible to go and see the old sailor, and learn what had become of Mark, but I knew that my father would be expecting me; and accordingly, after leaving the Hall, went directly home. My father complimented me more than I deserved on the way I had conducted the matter. I didn’t tell him just then of my having unintentionally assisted Mark and the other poachers to make their escape.

“If the smugglers and their cargo are taken, you will deservedly have the credit of the affair, and Sir Reginald will, I hope, feel bound to assist you as you desire,” he observed.

I had to wait till the next day to go over and see old Roger. I almost expected to find that Mark had returned home, and was concealed in the house; but none of his family knew anything about him, except that he had escaped from Sir Reginald’s strong room. They all thanked me warmly for the assistance I had given him, and of which they had heard by some means or other. They would not believe that I had had no intention, when I lent him my knife and other things, of helping him to get out. I took care to return home at an early hour, as I had no wish to encounter Ned Burden or the other men on the way. I waited somewhat impatiently for the result of the information I had given. I was very sure the baronet would take the necessary steps for capturing the smugglers. The weather, which had for a long time been fine, now completely changed. A strong westerly gale sprung up, the sky was clouded over, and as there was no moon the nights were very dark. The evening on which I had heard the smugglers propose to run the cargo arrived. I should have been wise to have gone to bed at the regular hour, as if I had had nothing to do in the matter. Instead of that, as soon as Ned was asleep I slipped on my clothes and went out by the back door, which I carefully closed behind me. As soon as I got clear of the village, and could see to a distance, I turned my eyes towards Kidbrooke Farm, which the smugglers had planned to attack in order to draw off the coastguard-men from the spot where the cargo was to be run. In a few minutes I observed a bright light burst forth from the surrounding darkness, and rapidly increase until it assumed the appearance of a huge bonfire. I then knew that the outlaws had carried out the first part of their plan, as I concluded they would the second. It seemed to me that the whole farm and all the stacks would speedily be in a blaze. Eager to see the fire, I ran towards the farm. On getting nearer, the hum of human voices showed me that a number of people had assembled, some of whom were engaged in throwing water over the stacks, others in pulling down the burning one. As I got up to them, I found that they were mostly labourers from Leighton, together with those belonging to the farm, with a few of the villagers from Sandgate. There were, I remarked, none of the revenue-men present, by which I concluded that they had not been drawn away from the coast, as the smugglers expected they would be. Precautions having been taken in time, and there being plenty of hands to extinguish the flames, the fire didn’t communicate to the other ricks; and, as far as I could see, even a portion of the first was saved.

It would have been better for me had I returned home and gone to bed again; but I was curious to know if the “Saucy Bess” had succeeded in running her cargo, or whether Sir Reginald had acted on the information I had given him, and had sent the coastguard-men to watch for the smugglers and capture them. Without stopping, therefore, in the neighbourhood of the burning rick, I hurried away towards the spot at which I had heard Ned Burden and his companions propose to run the cargo. I must have been running on for twenty minutes or so when I heard a pistol-shot fired; it was succeeded by two or three others. This made me more than ever eager to ascertain what was going forward. I doubled my speed. The path was tolerably good, and I knew the way. All the time I had not met a single person. After some time I heard more shouts, sounding much nearer, and cries mingled with the clashing of cutlasses, so it seemed to me. I had no doubt that the coastguard-men and the smugglers were having a desperate fight, the latter endeavouring to defend their property, and the former to capture it. Which would succeed in their object seemed doubtful. I pictured the whole scene, though as yet I could see nothing. This I was eager to do, forgetting that bullets flying about were no respecters of persons. At last I reached the top of a cliff overlooking the bay, whence I could see a lugger, which I guessed to be the “Saucy Bess,” with her sails loose, a short distance from the shore, and two or three boats near her; while on the sands were a number of men, who from their movements, and the babel of tongues arising from the spot, were evidently struggling. That the revenue-men had the best of it, I had no doubt. It appeared to me that they had captured part of the cargo, and some of the smugglers, and that others were endeavouring to rescue their comrades. That this was the case I had little doubt, when I saw the lugger’s head turned seawards, and presently she disappeared in the gloom of night I was now satisfied that Sir Reginald had acted on the information I had given him, and that he would find it had been correct. I was at last about to return home, when, just as I reached a lane leading from the cliffs, I heard footsteps close to me, and, turning round, saw three men approaching. Whoever they were I thought it better to keep out of their way, and began to run. But they must have seen me, and at once made chase. I could easily have kept ahead, but unfortunately stepping into a deep rut, I stumbled, and before I got under weigh again the men were upon me.

“Where are you bound for, youngster?” cried one of them, whom I recognised by the voice to be Ned Burden.

“I came to see what was going forward,” I answered.

“Not the first time you have done that, young gentleman,” said one, in an angry voice. “We know who you are. Somebody gave information about the run which was to be made to-night, and putting two or three things together no one will doubt that it was you. Shall we heave him over the cliffs, or what shall we do with him, mates?”

“Let us take him along with us, at all events,” said one of the other men. “If he has spoiled our plans to-night, he deserves to be knocked on the head.”

“Spoilt our plans indeed he has,” said Burden; and he presently detailed to his companions how he had caught me listening at the old barn, and how, not supposingthat I had heard anything of importance, he had let me go.

I could not deny this, and I saw that it would be useless to attempt to defend myself. My captors, without more ado, proceeded to tie my arms behind my back, and to bind a handkerchief over my eyes.

“Remember, youngster,” said Burden, “if you shout out or utter a word we’ll send a bullet through your head.”

From the fierce way in which he spoke I thought he was very likely to do this. I did not tell him that I knew who he was, as I was sure that this would only make matters worse for me. I did not, however, believe that they really meant to kill me; but what they would do was more than I could guess. Two of them taking me one by each arm led me along the road, without wasting another word on me. They walked very fast indeed. Had they not supported me I should have fallen several times. Every moment I thought they would stop. I tried to ascertain in what direction they were leading me, but very soon lost all means of doing so. At length they made me sit down on what I supposed was a bank. I tried to judge from what quarter the wind was blowing, but the spot was sheltered, and sometimes it blew on one cheek and sometimes on the other. I could hear the roar of the waves, by which I knew that I could be at no great distance from the shore. While one of them held me tightly by the arm, the others withdrew to a distance to consult as to how they should proceed. After a time they came back, and we continued our march at the same rate as before. On and on we went. I was getting very tired, and would gladly have again sat down. When I complained, the men laughed at me.

“You’ll soon have time enough to rest yourself, youngster,” said one of them. “You may consider yourself fortunate that things are no worse with you.”

Finding that it would be useless to say anything more, I held my tongue. I must own that I now bitterly regretted having interfered against the smugglers. They were fully convinced that I had done so, and I could not defend myself. I had heard of the fearful punishment that they had at times inflicted on informers; and even should they spare my life, I thought it too probable that they would ship me off to some distant part of the world, or shut me up in a cavern or some other place from which I could not make my escape. It seemed to me that several hours had passed since I was captured, and that it must now be broad daylight; but the bandage was so tightly secured over my eyes that I could not move it with my eyebrows, nor could I, from my arms being fastened behind my back, get my hands free to do so. Again and again I begged my captors to listen to me and loosen my arms, as the ropes hurt me. When I declared that I could go no farther, one of the men answered fiercely:—

“We’ll soon see that, youngster.”

He gave me a prod with the point of a knife or cutlass, I could not tell which. It showed me that they were not likely to treat me very ceremoniously. “I must make the best of a bad matter, I suppose,” I thought, and did not attempt to stop. Suddenly the men brought up, and then turning sharp round told me to lift my feet, and I found that we were walking up some wooden steps. This I could judge of by the sound made by our feet. Then we went along a level floor. Presently, after passing through two or three doorways, as I supposed, we descended also by wooden steps, till I felt convinced, by the closeness of the atmosphere, that we had reached a vault.

“You may make yourself comfortable here, young gentleman, for the rest of your life,” said one of the men, with a hoarse laugh. “I’ve a notion that you’ll not again be inclined to go and inform against poor fellows who are carrying on their business without wishing to do you or any one else harm.”

“Stay; that jacket of his, and his waistcoat, are a great deal too good for him,” observed another man.

And forthwith, having released my arms, they took off the garments they spoke of.

My first impulse, on getting my hands free, was to try and get the bandage from my eyes, but one of the men caught hold of my hands and prevented me from accomplishing my object. I, however, clutched hold of my clothes with the other, unwilling to give them up; but they quickly mastered me, leaving me only my shirt and trousers. I now began to fear that they intended some serious violence. In vain I struggled; I felt myself lifted up by the shoulders and feet, and placed on a rough board. As I now had my hands free, I immediately tore off the bandage. A gleam of light, which came from one side, showed me that I was in what appeared to be a large chest, placed on its side; but before I could turn myself round the lid was shut down, and I heard the men securing it. I was thus imprisoned in, so far as I could tell, a living tomb. I shouted and shrieked, and tried to force open the lid. My captors were holding it on the outside, and it seemed to me were driving in screws. I could hear them talking outside, but what they said I could not make out. Could it be possible that they intended to leave me here to perish by hunger? The act would be too diabolical for the worst of wretches to think of, and yet what other reason could they have for shutting me up in such a place? Finding that I could not release myself, I thought I would try to move their feelings.

“I am very sorry if I have brought you or any others into trouble,” I said. “If you’ll ask Roger Riddle, he’ll tell you that I have no ill-feeling towards smugglers. I was the means of getting his son Mark out of prison. If you keep me here you’ll make my father and mother very miserable, for they won’t know what has become of me. You can’t be so cruel, surely.”

The men went talking on. I was sure they heard me, though they made no answer. It then occurred to me that perhaps they had shut me up in the chest for the purpose of carrying me on board a vessel, and that I should then be set free and enjoy the light of heaven and the warmth of the sun. Then I recollected having read how cruelly boys are treated on board ship, and that if I were sent under such circumstances I should have to lead a dog’s life at the best. Well, it was some consolation to have reason to hope that I was not to be murdered as I at first feared, or to be kept shut up in this horrible vault for an indefinite period, when I might be forgotten, and possibly be allowed to die of starvation.

These thoughts passed rapidly through my mind. As soon as I grew calm, I listened to ascertain what the men were about. As far as I could judge, in a short time they quitted the vault, and I was left alone. I listened and listened. No sound could I hear. A sufficient amount of air came through the chinks in the chest, and enabled me to breathe without difficulty. I had no notion of staying where I was without some endeavour to extricate myself. I knew that after a time I should grow weak from want of food. I was in total darkness, and the chest, for so I supposed it, was large enough to enable me to move about. It struck me, as I was feeling round the sides, that it was perhaps a bunk, such as is fitted on board ship for the men to sleep in. If my captors had not taken away my jacket I should have had my knife, and I might then, I thought, have cut my way out; but they left me without any means of effecting my purpose. The only way of freeing myself was to knock out by main strength either the top or one side of the bunk or chest. I feared that if I at once commenced doing this the noise I should have to make would attract the attention of my jailers. I therefore lay still for some time, listening attentively. Not a sound of any description reached my ears. I thought that it must now be day, though no light penetrated into the vault. If it had I should have seen it, I thought, through the chinks of the chest. It was very roughly put together, and this circumstance gave me better hope of being able to force it open. At length I determined to commence operations, and placing myself on my back, with one hand to defend my head, and one foot against the end, I struck out with the other on the part above me. A cracking sound encouraged me to go on. Each time I struck out the planks appeared to move slightly. I used so much force that every nerve in my body was jarred, and I was afraid of laming myself. Notwithstanding that, I persevered, stopping every now and then to listen, lest my captors should return; but as no one came I was satisfied that they had gone away, and now redoubled my efforts. Several loud cracks were the result; and at length, to my intense satisfaction, the planks above me fell off, shattered by my foot.

I was thankful for my success. At all events I should not have to die shut up in a chest. But I was very far from being free. Getting up on my feet I thrust my head through the hole I had made, and tore back the broken pieces of plank. Had I possessed a light I should have seen how next to proceed, but I was still in total darkness. I could not tell what I might find outside the chest. Moving carefully I climbed out, moving about with my feet to find the ground, which was lower I thus ascertained than the bottom of the chest, but how much lower I could not tell. I therefore held tight on with my hands while I let myself down, and I then discovered that it had been placed on another chest of about the same size; but I had to move very cautiously, as there might be still some lower depth beneath my feet, though I didn’t think that very likely. The ground was dry and hard, without either bricks or flagstones. This I found out by stopping down and touching it with my hand. I now began to move on very carefully, feeling my way from chest to chest. I discovered in my progress not only chests, but casks and bales. I had little doubt, therefore, that I had been conveyed to the smugglers’ store, but where it was situated I was totally unable to surmise. That it was some way inland I thought probable, as I could not hear the sound of the surf breaking on the sea shore, which I thought I should have done had I been near the coast. I tried to think if I recollected any building which it was at all probable would be thus used by the smugglers. There were, I at last remembered, two mills not far from the coast, but one was in the possession of too respectable a farmer to allow any lawless proceedings to be carried on in his premises. The other was an old windmill that had been abandoned the last two or three years; two of the arms had fallen down, and the whole building was in a very ruinous and tottering condition. The property I had heard was in Chancery, the exact meaning of which I didn’t understand, but knew no one was ever seen about the place, and that the villagers from the neighbouring hamlet were unwilling to approach it after dark, there being a report that it was haunted by a headless miller, who had been killed while in a fit of drunkenness by his own machinery. Could this be the place, I thought. The idea didn’t make me feel more comfortable, not that I had any strong belief in ghosts or other spirits walking the earth in bodily shape; but yet I didn’t feel perfectly certain that such beings did not exist, and I confess to having had an indefinite dread of seeing the headless miller appear out of the darkness surrounded by a blue light. I tried to banish the idea, and felt much more at my ease. I suddenly recollected that although I was in darkness it was daylight outside, and that the headless miller was possibly resting quietly in his grave in the churchyard a mile away.

One thing I had to do, and that was to get out of my prison as soon as possible. I felt round and round the vault. My great object was to discover the steps by which my captors and I had descended, but to my dismay I could not find them. Either they had been drawn up through a trap-door above, or we had come through a door in the side of the vault which had been closed by them when they went out. I searched and searched in vain for such a door, one side consisting of a blank wall partly of stone and partly of perpendicular timbers, which I concluded supported the superstructure. This made me more certain than before that I was in a vault beneath the old mill. I was in hopes by this time that the smugglers had gone away, and that I should thus be able to make my escape without interruption. How to do so was the question. I remembered that we had descended the building by steps to the bottom of the vault. I concluded, therefore, that the roof must be a considerable height above my head. There were numerous boxes, chests, and bales, as far as I could judge, in the vault, and if I had had light I should have found, I thought, little difficulty in piling one upon another, and thus reaching the top; but in the dark this was a difficult and hazardous undertaking. I could scarcely expect to place them with sufficient evenness to make a firm structure, and they might, after I had got up some distance, topple down again with me under them, and perhaps an arm or a leg broken. Still I could think of no other way of getting out. I again felt about, and tried to lift some chests and bales, but they were mostly too heavy for my strength; I might, however, discover some which I could tackle.

It must be remembered that all this time I was perfectly ignorant of my surroundings. I was, indeed, in the position of a blind man suddenly placed in a position which he had never before visited without any one to give him a description of the scenery. The only knowledge that I had obtained of the vault was from the sense of touch. I now determined to take a further survey, if so I could call it, of my prison, to start from a certain point to feel my way round, and reach as high as I could, to extend my arms, and to grope along the floor from one side to the other. One point I considered was to my advantage. My captors would suppose that I was shut up in the chest, and would therefore not have taken much trouble to secure the outlet to the vault. Probably, indeed, they had gone away, as they would certainly avoid being seen in the neighbourhood of the old mill during daylight. I didn’t suppose that they intended to murder me, and I therefore expected that they would come back again at night to bring me some food, or perhaps to carry me off and ship me on board some vessel, for such I was convinced was their intention. I must therefore effect my escape before nightfall. The necessity of obtaining food would alone induce me to do this, though as yet I did not feel very hungry.

Serious as the situation was, I did not give way to despair. I could not believe that I was doomed to die, but how my deliverance was to be effected was more than I could tell. Again starting from the chest in which I had been shut up, and which I could distinguish by the short fragments of the top, I continued groping my way round and round the vault. My first object was to try and find the door, which I was persuaded existed, as I thought I had previously missed it. Any one who has played at blind man’s buff may have a faint idea of my situation. Only the objects round me remained stationary, whereas in the game people run away from the blinded person, and he has to try and catch them as they run round him. I had the advantage over the blinded man in the game. I was sure that in time I should gain a knowledge of my locality. Time, however, was precious, and it would not do for me to delay my search.

I would have given anything for a tinder-box and flint and steel, so that I might light up the vault even for a few seconds; but as that was not to be had, I tried to make use of my other senses. Stretching out my arms and feet as I went along, touching one place with my left hand, while I felt about my head as far as I could reach straight out with my right; I then brought my left up to the spot my right had last touched, and so I went on. Occasionally my right foot struck against a bale or chest which extended beyond the others above it. Had there been an opening in the pile of goods I was sure that I could not have missed it. For the supposed door I searched in vain, and at length came to the conclusion that the only entrance to the vault was from the roof above. It did not occur to me that there might be one above my reach by which my captors might have made their exit with the assistance of a short ladder. Though I had moved slowly, what with the exercise I had taken during the night, and the efforts I had made to get out of the chest, I felt very tired; and, discovering a bale of convenient height, I sat down to rest myself, and to consider with such calmness as I could command, what I should next do.

Back to IndexNext