Chapter Five.

Chapter Five.At the hall—Refusal of Lord Reginald’s gift—Lady Elverston and her daughters—Troubles of the farmer’s wife—Preparations for rejoining the Wolf—Lieutenant Hilton—Information received of an intended landing—Lord Reginald and Voules join the revenue party—Fight with the smugglers—Success of the king’s party—An encounter between the young lord and Richard Hargrave—Dick’s defence—Lord Reginald hurt—Escape of the farmer’s son—Unfavourable opinion of Dick at the hall—The marquis and Voules—The midshipmen rejoin the Wolf.Lord Reginald and his messmate greatly enjoyed their stay at Elverston Hall. Parties of all sorts were got up for their amusement, and guests were invited to meet them—Voules taking good care to sing the praises of his friend.He employed his time, much to his own satisfaction, in paying court to Lady Elverston, and endeavouring guardedly to win his way into the good graces of the younger ladies. They were always ready to listen to him while he was talking of their brother, whose faults they either had not discovered, or were willing to overlook. To them, at all events, he was always affectionate and courteous, whatever he might be to others.The rest of the household were not altogether so well satisfied with his dictatorial, overbearing manners, though they acknowledged that he might be a very brave officer, who would some day prove an ornament to his profession; but the wish was general, if not expressed, that he would soon go off again to sea.Though still feeling angry with Dick for the impertinent and bold way in which he had spoken to him, he did not forget his promise to replace the dog he had shot; and as soon as he could find a suitable animal he despatched it by a groom to Farmer Hargrave’s daughter, sending, at the same time, a note expressing his regret at the accident. It arrived just as Mr Gooch had left the cottage, and the interview the farmer had had with the bailiff had not been calculated to soothe his feelings. Mr Gooch had again threatened him with legal proceedings, and had accused him of sending his son out of the way to avoid the consequences of his misdeeds. Farmer Hargrave, of course, denied this, asserting that he did not know where his son was.He was standing at the door when the groom, leading the dog, arrived, and delivered his message from Lord Reginald.“Tell my lord that my daughter doesn’t require a dog. None can replace the poor brute that was killed, of which she was very fond. So I beg you’ll take it back, and say I am much obliged to him for his intentions,” he said.“I don’t think my lord will be well pleased to hear this, Farmer Hargrave,” answered the man. “He thought he was doing your daughter a great honour in sending her a dog, but he didn’t do it on account of your son, I’ve a fancy.”“The very reason why I refused to receive the animal,” answered the farmer. “I have nothing more to say; and the least said the soonest mended.”“Am I to take this message, then?” asked the groom.“Yes; I have no other to send. Good day to you,” said the farmer, turning round as if about to enter his house.The man led off the dog, observing to himself, “The young lord will be in a pretty way when he hears this; it won’t be the better for the farmer or Master Dick. That young fellow will get into more trouble if he doesn’t mend his manners.”Lord Reginald, who had just returned with Voules from a ride, was standing in front of the house when the groom appeared, leading the dog.“I thought I ordered you to take that dog to Farmer Hargrave?” exclaimed the midshipman.“So I did, my lord, but Farmer Hargrave won’t have him, and says he doesn’t want any gifts from your lordship.”“Impudent fellow!” observed Voules. “The father must be as great a barbarian as that precious son of his.”“Did you give him my message properly?” asked Lord Reginald.“Yes, my lord, word for word, and I advised Farmer Hargrave to take the dog, but he would not on any account.”“Then his daughter must go without the animal. I sent it to her, not to him,” said Lord Reginald, turning to Voules. “This sort of thing is really provoking; the people about here are next door to savages. I was rather inclined to pity the old Hargraves on account of their blind daughter, but I shall persuade my father to do as Gooch advises. His house and barns are a great eyesore from the dining-room windows, and we shall be able to add several acres to the park if he could be removed.”“Whether he is right or no, he ought, for the sake of pleasing the marquis, to be ready to give up his farm,” said Voules, “and if he won’t do so of his own accord, he should be compelled. I have no idea of the commonalty venturing to set themselves up against the aristocracy in the way they have done since the French Revolution.”Lord Reginald had been induced by a right motive to send the dog, and the refusal of the farmer to receive it again raised his angry feelings against Dick. “If I come across the young fellow, I’ll punish him for his own and his father’s impertinence!” he exclaimed.The incident, slight as it may appear, prevented him for some days enjoying, as he might otherwise have done, the pleasures of home. Lady Elverston had fulfilled her promise of speaking to the marquis.“I would not, of course, act unjustly towards Hargrave,” he answered; “but Gooch, who has consulted the lawyer, tells me that I have a perfect right to turn him out; besides which I have offered him an ample sum to go, but he has refused to receive the compensation, and insists on standing up for what he calls his rights. I, of course, cannot be thwarted by a man at my own gates, and have given authority to Gooch to proceed as he thinks necessary for my interests.”“But we consider the farm-house, the stacks, and the buildings, picturesque objects in the distance, and we could not desire to have near us more respectable, worthy people than the Hargraves,” urged Lady Elverston.“He is an obstinate fellow, and a Republican at heart, and will to a certainty vote against our son, should John stand for the next Parliament,” answered the marquis. “However, I promise you I will act with perfect justice; but you could not wish me to submit to the insolence of a fellow of his description.”Poor Lady Elverston, though not convinced that her husband was right, was unable to say anything more. She saw that he had been strongly biased against the farmer, and she was naturally displeased with the way his son had behaved to Lord Reginald. Her compassionate feelings for Janet, however, were not altered. In the afternoon, accompanied by Lady Julia, she took a drive in her pony carriage. In passing Farmer Hargrave’s house she stopped to see Janet, wishing also to ascertain the reason for the objection Mr Hargrave had to giving up his farm, and hoping to induce him to yield with a good grace to the wishes of the marquis.The ladies found Janet and her mother seated in the parlour. A smile played over the countenance of the blind girl when she heard the voice of the marchioness.“Very kind, my lady, very kind in you to come and see us, and mother wants so much to talk to your ladyship about the matter of the farm,” she said, after the ordinary inquiries had been made and answered.Lady Elverston was glad of this opportunity of entering on the subject, and she begged to hear what Mrs Hargrave had to say.“My husband, my lady, doesn’t desire to oppose the wishes of the marquis, but as every Englishman should—as your ladyship will agree—he stands on his rights, and as he has a long lease of this property, which his fathers for many generations held before him, he refuses to be compelled to give it up. You see, my lady, Mr Gooch has been here and threatened that the law will force him if he refuses, and when my good man told him that the law could not compel him, the bailiff said that he would bring up our son Richard before the justices for threatening to shoot Lord Reginald, which I cannot believe he ever did, even though he was vexed at his lordship killing his dog. My husband, my lady, is a determined man, and neither I nor any one else can induce him to change his mind if he thinks he is doing what is right.”“I certainly would not ask him to do what he thinks is wrong,” said Lady Elverston, “and I am quite sure that the marquis did not give authority to Mr Gooch to use any threats. Lord Elverston told me this morning that he was willing to offer any reasonable compensation to your husband for quitting the farm, and he would probably give him ample time to find another equally suitable.”“I was sure, my lady, that the marquis would not have allowed the bailiff to make use of the threats he did; and if you will speak again to his lordship and induce him to make a fair offer to my husband, though it would well-nigh break our hearts to move, I will try and get him to accept it.”Lady Elverston, who suspected that the marquis had been deceived by Mr Gooch, promised again to speak to him; though well aware that he was as obstinate as the farmer, she did not say that she was certain of success. Lady Julia in the mean time was talking in her gentle way to Janet, and promised to call for her the first sunny day to take her out for a drive in the pony-carriage. Her ladyship then inquired for Dick, and expressed a hope that he would harbour no ill feelings towards her son.“I pray that he won’t, my lady; he has ever been a good and faithful son to us, though somewhat headstrong at times, but he has not a revengeful spirit, and I am sure he would not wish to harm Lord Reginald. We are in sad trouble about him, for Mr Gooch frightened him so by his threats, that he has gone away, we don’t know where.”“Have you no clue to his hiding-place?” asked Lady Elverston. “I should much like to have some conversation with him, and I trust that I might soften any lingering ill feeling—should such exist in his breast—towards my son.”“I shall never forget your kindness, whatever happens, my lady,” said Mrs Hargrave.After some further conversation, the marchioness took her departure, accompanied by Lady Julia, still, however, in considerable doubt whether she had done much to settle the vexed question.The time of the two midshipmen’s stay at Elverston Hall was drawing to a close. Voules had received a letter from a messmate, saying that theWolfwas nearly ready for sea. He flattered himself that he had not let the grass grow under his feet; that he had established himself in the good graces of Lord and Lady Elverston; and he had even the vanity to suppose that he had made some progress in those of Lady Julia. He was gentlemanly in his manners, and Lord Reginald always spoke of him as “a capital fellow,” and seemed to regard him with affection.Lord Reginald himself, accustomed to an active life, was, however, beginning to grow somewhat tired of his stay on shore; though attached to his family, he was perfectly ready to go back to his ship. He had experienced, indeed, lately some difficulty in finding amusement for himself and companion. He and Voules had made the acquaintance of the lieutenant of the neighbouring coastguard station, who, having seen a great deal of service, and being a merry fellow, with a fund of anecdote, was an amusing companion. Lieutenant Hilton had several times been invited to dine at the hall, an honour he highly appreciated, although it cost him a long trudge there and back, over a somewhat wild region, with the risk of encountering some of the lawless characters of the neighbourhood, who looked upon him as their worst foe. He had one day been dining at the hall; the gentlemen having indulged freely in the bottle, as was too common in those times, were about to join the ladies in the drawing-room, when a servant entered to inform Lieutenant Hilton that a person wished to see him immediately on important business.“He has probably brought information that a run is to be made to-night, and if so, Hilton, we’ll accompany you to see the fun,” said Lord Reginald. “Don’t go off without us, remember. We’ll mount you, and we will ride together, with any one else who likes to come.”Lieutenant Hilton hurried out to see the messenger. He returned to say that Lord Reginald was right in his conjectures, and that there was no time to be lost, as a suspicious lugger had been seen off the coast, and that as the night promised to be dark, there was no doubt she would try to run her cargo before the morning.The other gentlemen declined the proposed expedition, and Voules would gladly have remained behind, but he could not venture to allow Lord Reginald to go without him, especially as he himself had proposed assisting the revenue, should an opportunity occur. Very unwillingly, therefore, he went to his room to prepare for the ride, instead of passing the evening, as he had hoped, in the society of Lady Julia.The marquis, although he would rather his son had not undertaken what might prove a hazardous expedition, could not object, as he had expressed his resolution by every means in his power to put down the smugglers. The horses were soon ready, and the lieutenant and the two midshipmen, led by the mounted exciseman who had brought the information, set off by a road which would lead them to the westward of Milford. The excise officer informed the lieutenant that a messenger had been despatched to obtain the assistance of a party of dragoons stationed at Lymington, and that a small body of sea-fencibles, belonging to the district, were hurrying on towards the expected scene of action. With the aid of the lieutenant’s own men, a sufficient force would thus, it was hoped, be collected to seize the goods should they be landed, while the boats on the station were despatched to try and capture the lugger herself before she had completely discharged her cargo. The exact spot where it was intended the lugger should run her cargo was unknown, but it was supposed that it would be somewhere between Hurst and Christchurch. The cliffs here are of considerable height, rising above a narrow beach, and, continually crumbling away, exhibit numerous fossil remains. In some places they are broken by narrow gullies, which, sloping up gradually from the shore to the downs above, afford easy pathways up which both men and loaded animals can climb without much difficulty.Since information had first been received of the intended run from a treacherous confederate of the smugglers, preparations for their capture had been carried on with the greatest possible secrecy and rapidity. It was important to prevent the smugglers’ associates on shore from discovering that the revenue men were approaching.Lieutenant Hilton having reached his station, summoned eight of his own men to accompany him. Here the midshipmen were provided with pistols and cutlasses. Their services were likely to be of use, as it was certain the smugglers would muster in large numbers. The horses were left at the station, while the lieutenant and his party proceeded to the spot where the sea-fencibles were posted, waiting for any information they might receive to guide their future proceedings.It was in a hollow, surrounded by trees and brushwood, and about half a mile or so from the sea-shore. The night, as had been expected, was very dark, the wind a moderate breeze, blowing from the north-west. Not a word was spoken above a whisper, for fear lest their position should be discovered by any passing associates of the smugglers. The latter had given it out that the run was to be made on the other side of Christchurch head, and to induce them to suppose that this was believed, a party of revenue men had started off in that direction, taking care that their movements should be observed. It was hoped by this that the smugglers would be deceived, and would attempt the run at the spot named in the private information which had been received.“This is dull work!” whispered Voules to Lord Reginald. “I thought we should be up and doing long ago.”“Dull enough! I vote we set off by ourselves, to try and find out what the smugglers are about,” answered Lord Reginald.“I should recommend riding back to the hall, and letting our friends here follow their own devices,” said Voules; “but it would not do, now that we have once put ourselves under Hilton’s command, to desert him.”Their patience was to be further tried. At last, one of the scouts who had been set to watch the direction taken by those who were sure to assist in the landing, came in with the intelligence that he had traced them midway between the hamlets of Barton and Ash, and that he had seen suspicious lights both on shore and at sea. The latter were, it was guessed, shown on board the lugger, which was exchanging signals with the spotsmen on shore, leaving little doubt as to where the goods would be run. As the distance to the spot was considerable, there was no time to be lost, for not only might the lugger’s cargo be landed, but carried far away into the interior before the revenue men could get there. There was a danger, however, should they arrive too soon, of their being discovered by the smugglers, who would in that case put off to sea again and wait for a more favourable opportunity.The road followed by Lieutenant Hilton and his party led some distance from the shore. They proceeded as fast as they could move, forming a compact body, that they might run the less risk of being seen. The commander of the sea-fencibles arranged the plan of proceeding. He, with his men, would go to the westward, while the lieutenant was to attack the smugglers on the opposite side, and the excisemen were to guard the upper part of the hollow or gully which led down to the water, so as to catch any of the smugglers who might be making their way up it to escape. This plan was arranged as they went along.On reaching the neighbourhood of the spot, they halted, and scouts were sent out to ascertain if the smugglers had collected where they had been expected. In a short time the scouts returned, stating that a large body of men were on the beach, and one of them added that he had nearly been discovered by a party with pack animals proceeding down the gully which led to the same part of the shore. Lord Reginald was on the point of exhibiting his satisfaction by giving a loud shout, when Voules stopped him.“On my lads!” said the lieutenant in a low voice; and he led his men by a narrow path which wound down the cliff to the west of the village of Barton, while the rest of the party, by a wide circuit, made their way to the opposite side.It was agreed that Lieutenant Hilton should fire off a couple of pistols in rapid succession, as the signal for attacking the smugglers, and that both parties were to rush on them simultaneously, while the men at the top of the gully should stop them from making their escape in that direction.Lord Reginald was eager for the attack, but Voules, as he made out the numbers in which the smugglers mustered, heartily wished that he had remained to enjoy the society of the ladies at the hall.“We are likely to get more kicks than ha’pence, and little honour, at all events,” he muttered to himself.From where they lay concealed, they could observe the boats coming on shore with the lugger’s cargo. The lieutenant watched until he considered that the larger portion had been landed. He directed Lord Reginald and Voules, with three men, to guard the foot of a pathway leading up the cliff, by which possibly some of the smugglers might attempt to make their escape. The outlaws had been carrying on their undertaking in perfect silence. Not a sound had been heard, when the report of the two pistols echoed among the cliffs. It was the signal for a general uproar. The revenue men dashed forward from both sides towards the party on the beach, who began shouting and swearing vehemently. Then came the flash of firearms, and the clash of cutlasses. The smugglers fought desperately. Some were hurriedly loading the horses, hoping to escape with a portion of the goods by land, others were engaged in throwing the packages back into the boats, and endeavouring to shove off, and regain the lugger. The revenue officers, knowing that this would be attempted, rushed forward to prevent them. Here some of the hottest fighting took place. As they could not escape through the gully, no attempt was made to stop them from entering it. Before long, however, the smugglers discovered how they had been entrapped, when those who had gone off came running back with the disastrous intelligence. All attempts to save the goods were abandoned. Each man thought only how he could best make his escape. Some endeavoured to climb the cliffs, others rushed beneath them, to the westward. One party made a dash for the pathway guarded by Lord Reginald and Voules. So furious was their onslaught, that Voules was knocked over, and while their men had each an opponent, two other smugglers rushed past Lord Reginald. He fired, but whether his bullet took effect or not, he could not tell; by the flash, however, he thought that he recognised the features of Dick Hargrave, whose companion, wresting the young lord’s sword from his grasp, dashed on up the path, and both were soon lost to sight in the darkness. Lord Reginald made a vain attempt to follow the fugitives, but, unable to see his way, was glad to rejoin his companions.“I know the young rascal, and have now proof positive that he is a smuggler!” he exclaimed. “Voules, did you see him?”But Voules, who had been lying on the sand where he had been thrown, some feet below, only just then began to recover. Several seconds elapsed before he was again able to take part in what was going forward. The other smugglers, who had tried to escape up the path, were secured.The fighting continued, however, for some time longer, till, one after the other, the smugglers were knocked down and captured, four being killed, and a large number wounded, while two of the revenue men lost their lives, and several others were severely hurt. Dore, with the few people still remaining on board the lugger, waited in the hopes of the boats getting off, but when they knew by their not returning that their friends must have been taken, the cable was cut, and theNancystood out to sea. She had, however, proceeded but a short distance when two revenue boats dashed alongside, and her diminished crew, being unable to make any effectual resistance, she was captured, with the remainder of the contraband goods on board, more than sufficient to condemn her.Lieutenant Hilton was very well pleased with the result of the enterprise. Seldom had so large a capture been effected. He had, however, still a difficult task to perform, as he had scarcely men sufficient to guard the prisoners, whose desperate character he knew full well, while he had the additional duty of conducting the packhorses.The smugglers at first appeared to submit quietly enough, but that was no proof that they would continue to do so, should they find an opportunity of escaping.As there were not more than three lanterns among the whole party, it was difficult to ascertain whether the prisoners were properly secured. At any moment, they might break loose and effect their escape. They had, indeed, every motive for doing so. They had not only been captured smuggling, but had weapons in their hands, opposing the king’s authority, and one and all of them might be tried for the death of the two revenue men who had fallen. All who had been taken were now brought together and placed under the cliffs, watched by a strong guard, while the bales and kegs, which lay scattered about in all directions, were collected and packed on the horses.The order to march was given. The pack animals went first, followed by the captured smugglers, who uttered curses, deep if not loud, on their hard fate. Then came the men told off to carry the wounded who were too much hurt to walk. Lord Reginald and Voules brought up the rear. The killed were left above high water mark on the beach, until a party could be sent to carry them to Barton churchyard, where the revenue man and smuggler were destined to lie side by side.The party at length reached the top of the cliff, and directed their course towards the high road running between Christchurch and Lymington. They had proceeded about a mile, when a number of armed men, springing out from behind the hedges on either side, suddenly attacked the conductors of the pack-horses, which they endeavoured to carry off. The prisoners, taking advantage of the confusion, attempted to escape, and there appeared every probability that some would succeed.“Cut down the fellows, if they try to get off!” cried Voules, and the other officers repeated the order.At that moment the clattering sound of horses’ hoofs coming along the road was heard. A cry arose, “The dragoons are upon us!” The men who had made the last daring attempt to recover the goods took to flight. Two were captured by the soldiers, who went in pursuit, but the rest effected their escape.Mr Hilton gladly handed over the prisoners to the charge of the military, while he accompanied Lord Reginald and Voules back to the station where they had left their horses.“I wish that you would remain here until the morning,” said the lieutenant, when they reached it. “There are a number of rough characters allied with the smugglers, who, should they fall in with you, may take it into their heads to revenge themselves by shooting you.”“I am not afraid of them,” answered the young lord. “Voules and I together are able to tackle a dozen such fellows. Thank you for your invitation, but our friends at the hall will be anxious to know what has happened, and I want to tell my father how admirably you have managed affairs.”The lieutenant, finding that the midshipmen could not be induced to remain, ordered the horses to be brought out, and Lord Reginald, saying that he would the next morning send a groom for the animal the lieutenant had ridden, being well acquainted with the way, set off with Voules for the hall.“As there is no fear of our losing the road, even in the dark, we may as well take a short cut,” he observed, after they had gone some distance. “We shall save a mile or more, and have the advantage of turf. The moon, too, will soon be up, and we shall be able to gallop a good part of the distance.”Voules had nothing to say against this proposal, though he would have preferred the high road.“This lane will lead us on to the heath, and as the sky is clear, there will be light enough, even before the moon rises, besides which our horses know the way as well as I do,” said Lord Reginald.They rode down the lane at a more steady pace than they had hitherto been going, for it was full of ruts, and somewhat narrow and winding. It conducted them on to a wild heath, beyond which could be discerned the outskirts of the New Forest, the trees in some places projecting over the heath like the advance guard of an army, while in others wild glades opened out extending far into the interior. Towards one of these glades Lord Reginald directed his course.“By keeping a little to the right it will lead us to the high road again,” he observed. “There’s the moon just rising above the trees. We shall be able to push along now, without fear of rushing into a hedge.”Crossing the heath by a tolerably well-defined footpath, they entered the forest, and were galloping along a grassy glade, on which their horses’ hoofs produced scarcely a sound, when Lord Reginald uttered an exclamation of surprise.“Halloa! I see a fellow ahead. Where can he be going?”“Probably one of the smugglers, who managed to make his escape,” answered Voules.“Whoever he is, we will stop him and ascertain why he is out at this time of night. Stop, you fellow!” cried Lord Reginald; “we want to speak to you.”The person, who apparently had not before heard them coming, only increased his pace; on seeing which the young lord spurred on his horse.The stranger, who might possibly have escaped by darting in among the trees, instead of making the attempt, finding that his pursuers were gaining on him, stopped and faced them, holding a thick stick, which might properly have been called a club, in his hand.“Throw down that bludgeon and come here,” said Lord Reginald.“Not while I am spoken to in that tone,” answered the stranger. “I have as much right to be out in this forest as you have.”“You must tell us who you are, and where you are going!” cried Lord Reginald, riding up to him.The stranger lifted up his club, exclaiming, “Hands off! If you attempt to touch me, you must take the consequences.”Just then a gleam of light from the rising moon shone on the stranger’s face.“I know the rascal!” cried Lord Reginald; “it’s that young Hargrave. Not the first time we have met tonight. You are one of the fellows who made their escape from the excisemen; but you are not going to do so from us; so yield at once! Come, help me, Voules!” and the young lord, spurring forward his horse, attempted to seize Dick by the shoulder.The latter sprang back, and, whirling round his club, struck Lord Reginald a blow on the arm which effectually prevented him from using it, and before Voules could lay hold of him, Dick had rushed off among the trees, which quickly concealed him from view.In vain Lord Reginald, in spite of the pain he was suffering, urged his horse after him. The stems of the trees, growing thickly together, prevented him from following, and Dick was soon safe beyond the pursuit of the horsemen.“This is provoking; but we will have him yet!” cried Lord Reginald.“I am afraid the villain has broken your arm!” exclaimed Voules.“It seems something like it from the pain I am suffering,” answered Lord Reginald; “however, the sooner we can get home to have it looked to the better.”“Yes, indeed,” said Voules; “I am deeply grieved. I would have shot the young savage had I thought he would have had the audacity to strike you.”“No, no; I should have been sorry if the fellow had been killed,” said Lord Reginald. “All I wanted was to take him prisoner, and send him off with the rest to sea, for I suppose that will be the lot of all who are fit to serve. However, as we are not likely to see more of him for the present, I shall be glad to get home. This arm of mine hurts me fearfully.”They again put their horses into a gallop, and continued on until they reached the end of the glade, which led out on the high road. Lord Reginald bore the pain manfully; indeed, it was surprising that he did not faint and fall from his horse. The trotting along the road was even worse than the gallop, and at last he had to tell Voules to stop and walk. It was nearly two o’clock in the morning when they reached the hall. They found Lord and Lady Elverston, with Lord John, sitting up for them.“Most thankful to see you back,” said Lord Elverston, who came out to meet them; “we were too anxious to go to bed. One of the grooms had brought word that there had been a desperate fight between the revenue men and the smugglers, and that there had been a number of killed and wounded. Good Heavens! what is the matter? You look very pale. Are you hurt?”“Yes, but not in the fight,” answered Reginald, as he entered the drawing-room and sank into a chair. He then described the encounter with Richard Hargrave.“The young ruffian must be punished,” exclaimed the marquis. “It is evident that he is leagued with the smugglers, and this last outrage shows his desperate character. Do you feel much pain?”“Very much; indeed, I fear that my arm is broken,” answered Lord Reginald.On hearing this Lady Elverston came to his side. “My dear boy, I trust not,” she said; “you must go to bed, and let Mrs Cross and me examine your arm.”“If it is broken we must send off for a surgeon immediately,” said the marquis.“I would rather have some supper first. I dare say so would Voules, for we both of us felt very hungry as we came along, and I hope after all, no bone is broken.”The tray was at once brought up, and though Voules did ample justice to the viands it contained, Lord Reginald, after making several ineffectual attempts to eat, had to confess that the pain overpowered him, and he allowed himself to be led off to his room by his mother and brother.Mrs Cross, the housekeeper, was soon in attendance, having evidently, by the way her dress was put on, with her night-cap on her head, just risen from her slumbers. The young lord was quickly undressed, when, on his arm being examined, Mrs Cross declared it as her opinion that no bone was broken; and all that was required were fomentations and rest.“I am sorry to hear so bad a character of young Hargrave. His mother and blind sister are at all events good people, and it will grieve them sorely,” observed Lady Elverston to her husband, who answered only with the significant exclamation of—“Humph! Perhaps so.”The pain was somewhat relieved by the fomentations applied by the housekeeper, who offered to sit up with the young lord; and though he declared that he should do very well without assistance, he was glad at length to accept her offer.Voules came in just before going to bed, to express his deep concern.“I shall do very well in a day or two,” said Lord Reginald, “and it won’t prevent me from joining my ship.”Notwithstanding his assertion, he was very feverish during the night, when he was constantly uttering expressions which showed the animosity he felt against Dick Hargrave, complaining that he was the cause of the pain he was enduring. This was reported the next morning by Mrs Cross to the marchioness.“It is a shame, my lady, that so bad a lad should be allowed to be at large. I hope my lord will have him taken up and sent off to Botany Bay, or anywhere out of the way, for if he meets Lord Reginald again, I don’t know what will come of it.”Next morning the doctor, who had been sent for, arrived, and greatly relieved the minds of Lord and Lady Elverston by assuring them that their son’s arm was not broken.“No thanks to the young ruffian who inflicted the blow,” observed the marquis; “we must have him apprehended, for such an outrage must not be allowed to go unpunished.”The doctor directed Lord Reginald’s arm to be fomented, and observed that he must carry it for a few days in a sling, assuring him that he need not fear any serious consequences.“Then it will not prevent him from joining his ship?” observed the marquis, who had his reasons for wishing that the midshipmen should not remain longer at Elverston.“Not if he can perform his duty without going aloft, or using his arm for the present,” replied the doctor.Lord Elverston said he would write to the captain on the subject.“In that case his lordship may join his ship immediately,” observed the doctor, who seemed to understand the marquis’s wishes.Voules, who had been present during the discussion, was far from satisfied with the doctor’s decision. He had hoped that the injury Lord Reginald had received would serve him as an excuse for remaining until the frigate was on the point of sailing, as he himself was in no hurry to leave Elverston Hall.The marquis, however, had observed his attentions to Lady Julia, and although he gave his daughter credit for discretion, he thought it was as well to send the young gentleman away. Having a pretty good knowledge of the world, he had taken the measure of Toady Voules more accurately than his son had done, and had seen through him. When Lord Reginald, faithful to his promise, had begged his father to use his influence at the Admiralty to get Voules promoted, the marquis replied that he should be happy to serve any friend of his, but for certain reasons he could make no promise, and that he must know more about the young gentleman before he could recommend him to their lordships.“But he is really a capital fellow,” said Lord Reginald. “He sticks like a leech to me, and I can always depend upon him.”“Leeches suck blood,” answered the marquis, laughing. “I don’t think you have well considered the simile.”“I mean that he is always ready at hand when I want him to do anything I require,” answered Lord Reginald. “He is the most convenient fellow I ever met.”“Well, well, I will remember your wishes,” said the marquis.Lord Reginald saw that he must not press the point further. Voules looked very melancholy at the thought of leaving Elverston. He was in an especially bad humour too, for though Lady Julia treated him as she had always done, he began to suspect that he had made no great way in her good graces. The utter indifference she showed when he talked of going away, convinced him of this, and although to the last the family treated him, as Lord Reginald’s friend, with the utmost kindness, no one expressed the hope that they might soon again have the pleasure of seeing him.A couple of days having passed, the midshipmen were ready to obey the order to rejoin their ship. A Yarmouth pilot vessel having been engaged to convey them to Portsmouth, they set sail in her from Keyhaven. Taking a favourable tide, with a fair wind, they might easily get there in six hours, whereas the journey by land would have occupied nearly a couple of days. The crew of the pilot vessel, as they stepped on board, looked at the midshipmen askance, evidently having heard of the part they had taken in the capture of the smugglers, many of whom were their relatives and friends. The captain, however, treated them with the greatest civility, but took good care not to answer any questions they put to him concerning the smugglers, leaving them to suppose that he was ignorant of the existence of such persons, and was not even aware that there was any smuggling on that coast.Of Dick Hargrave nothing had been heard, but a warrant had been taken out for his apprehension, and people were on the watch to capture him should he make his appearance, or should his place of concealment be discovered. A fresh breeze quickly carrying the cutter up to Portsmouth, Lord Reginald and Voules once more found themselves on board theWolf, which had hauled away from the dockyard, ready to go out to Spithead.

Lord Reginald and his messmate greatly enjoyed their stay at Elverston Hall. Parties of all sorts were got up for their amusement, and guests were invited to meet them—Voules taking good care to sing the praises of his friend.

He employed his time, much to his own satisfaction, in paying court to Lady Elverston, and endeavouring guardedly to win his way into the good graces of the younger ladies. They were always ready to listen to him while he was talking of their brother, whose faults they either had not discovered, or were willing to overlook. To them, at all events, he was always affectionate and courteous, whatever he might be to others.

The rest of the household were not altogether so well satisfied with his dictatorial, overbearing manners, though they acknowledged that he might be a very brave officer, who would some day prove an ornament to his profession; but the wish was general, if not expressed, that he would soon go off again to sea.

Though still feeling angry with Dick for the impertinent and bold way in which he had spoken to him, he did not forget his promise to replace the dog he had shot; and as soon as he could find a suitable animal he despatched it by a groom to Farmer Hargrave’s daughter, sending, at the same time, a note expressing his regret at the accident. It arrived just as Mr Gooch had left the cottage, and the interview the farmer had had with the bailiff had not been calculated to soothe his feelings. Mr Gooch had again threatened him with legal proceedings, and had accused him of sending his son out of the way to avoid the consequences of his misdeeds. Farmer Hargrave, of course, denied this, asserting that he did not know where his son was.

He was standing at the door when the groom, leading the dog, arrived, and delivered his message from Lord Reginald.

“Tell my lord that my daughter doesn’t require a dog. None can replace the poor brute that was killed, of which she was very fond. So I beg you’ll take it back, and say I am much obliged to him for his intentions,” he said.

“I don’t think my lord will be well pleased to hear this, Farmer Hargrave,” answered the man. “He thought he was doing your daughter a great honour in sending her a dog, but he didn’t do it on account of your son, I’ve a fancy.”

“The very reason why I refused to receive the animal,” answered the farmer. “I have nothing more to say; and the least said the soonest mended.”

“Am I to take this message, then?” asked the groom.

“Yes; I have no other to send. Good day to you,” said the farmer, turning round as if about to enter his house.

The man led off the dog, observing to himself, “The young lord will be in a pretty way when he hears this; it won’t be the better for the farmer or Master Dick. That young fellow will get into more trouble if he doesn’t mend his manners.”

Lord Reginald, who had just returned with Voules from a ride, was standing in front of the house when the groom appeared, leading the dog.

“I thought I ordered you to take that dog to Farmer Hargrave?” exclaimed the midshipman.

“So I did, my lord, but Farmer Hargrave won’t have him, and says he doesn’t want any gifts from your lordship.”

“Impudent fellow!” observed Voules. “The father must be as great a barbarian as that precious son of his.”

“Did you give him my message properly?” asked Lord Reginald.

“Yes, my lord, word for word, and I advised Farmer Hargrave to take the dog, but he would not on any account.”

“Then his daughter must go without the animal. I sent it to her, not to him,” said Lord Reginald, turning to Voules. “This sort of thing is really provoking; the people about here are next door to savages. I was rather inclined to pity the old Hargraves on account of their blind daughter, but I shall persuade my father to do as Gooch advises. His house and barns are a great eyesore from the dining-room windows, and we shall be able to add several acres to the park if he could be removed.”

“Whether he is right or no, he ought, for the sake of pleasing the marquis, to be ready to give up his farm,” said Voules, “and if he won’t do so of his own accord, he should be compelled. I have no idea of the commonalty venturing to set themselves up against the aristocracy in the way they have done since the French Revolution.”

Lord Reginald had been induced by a right motive to send the dog, and the refusal of the farmer to receive it again raised his angry feelings against Dick. “If I come across the young fellow, I’ll punish him for his own and his father’s impertinence!” he exclaimed.

The incident, slight as it may appear, prevented him for some days enjoying, as he might otherwise have done, the pleasures of home. Lady Elverston had fulfilled her promise of speaking to the marquis.

“I would not, of course, act unjustly towards Hargrave,” he answered; “but Gooch, who has consulted the lawyer, tells me that I have a perfect right to turn him out; besides which I have offered him an ample sum to go, but he has refused to receive the compensation, and insists on standing up for what he calls his rights. I, of course, cannot be thwarted by a man at my own gates, and have given authority to Gooch to proceed as he thinks necessary for my interests.”

“But we consider the farm-house, the stacks, and the buildings, picturesque objects in the distance, and we could not desire to have near us more respectable, worthy people than the Hargraves,” urged Lady Elverston.

“He is an obstinate fellow, and a Republican at heart, and will to a certainty vote against our son, should John stand for the next Parliament,” answered the marquis. “However, I promise you I will act with perfect justice; but you could not wish me to submit to the insolence of a fellow of his description.”

Poor Lady Elverston, though not convinced that her husband was right, was unable to say anything more. She saw that he had been strongly biased against the farmer, and she was naturally displeased with the way his son had behaved to Lord Reginald. Her compassionate feelings for Janet, however, were not altered. In the afternoon, accompanied by Lady Julia, she took a drive in her pony carriage. In passing Farmer Hargrave’s house she stopped to see Janet, wishing also to ascertain the reason for the objection Mr Hargrave had to giving up his farm, and hoping to induce him to yield with a good grace to the wishes of the marquis.

The ladies found Janet and her mother seated in the parlour. A smile played over the countenance of the blind girl when she heard the voice of the marchioness.

“Very kind, my lady, very kind in you to come and see us, and mother wants so much to talk to your ladyship about the matter of the farm,” she said, after the ordinary inquiries had been made and answered.

Lady Elverston was glad of this opportunity of entering on the subject, and she begged to hear what Mrs Hargrave had to say.

“My husband, my lady, doesn’t desire to oppose the wishes of the marquis, but as every Englishman should—as your ladyship will agree—he stands on his rights, and as he has a long lease of this property, which his fathers for many generations held before him, he refuses to be compelled to give it up. You see, my lady, Mr Gooch has been here and threatened that the law will force him if he refuses, and when my good man told him that the law could not compel him, the bailiff said that he would bring up our son Richard before the justices for threatening to shoot Lord Reginald, which I cannot believe he ever did, even though he was vexed at his lordship killing his dog. My husband, my lady, is a determined man, and neither I nor any one else can induce him to change his mind if he thinks he is doing what is right.”

“I certainly would not ask him to do what he thinks is wrong,” said Lady Elverston, “and I am quite sure that the marquis did not give authority to Mr Gooch to use any threats. Lord Elverston told me this morning that he was willing to offer any reasonable compensation to your husband for quitting the farm, and he would probably give him ample time to find another equally suitable.”

“I was sure, my lady, that the marquis would not have allowed the bailiff to make use of the threats he did; and if you will speak again to his lordship and induce him to make a fair offer to my husband, though it would well-nigh break our hearts to move, I will try and get him to accept it.”

Lady Elverston, who suspected that the marquis had been deceived by Mr Gooch, promised again to speak to him; though well aware that he was as obstinate as the farmer, she did not say that she was certain of success. Lady Julia in the mean time was talking in her gentle way to Janet, and promised to call for her the first sunny day to take her out for a drive in the pony-carriage. Her ladyship then inquired for Dick, and expressed a hope that he would harbour no ill feelings towards her son.

“I pray that he won’t, my lady; he has ever been a good and faithful son to us, though somewhat headstrong at times, but he has not a revengeful spirit, and I am sure he would not wish to harm Lord Reginald. We are in sad trouble about him, for Mr Gooch frightened him so by his threats, that he has gone away, we don’t know where.”

“Have you no clue to his hiding-place?” asked Lady Elverston. “I should much like to have some conversation with him, and I trust that I might soften any lingering ill feeling—should such exist in his breast—towards my son.”

“I shall never forget your kindness, whatever happens, my lady,” said Mrs Hargrave.

After some further conversation, the marchioness took her departure, accompanied by Lady Julia, still, however, in considerable doubt whether she had done much to settle the vexed question.

The time of the two midshipmen’s stay at Elverston Hall was drawing to a close. Voules had received a letter from a messmate, saying that theWolfwas nearly ready for sea. He flattered himself that he had not let the grass grow under his feet; that he had established himself in the good graces of Lord and Lady Elverston; and he had even the vanity to suppose that he had made some progress in those of Lady Julia. He was gentlemanly in his manners, and Lord Reginald always spoke of him as “a capital fellow,” and seemed to regard him with affection.

Lord Reginald himself, accustomed to an active life, was, however, beginning to grow somewhat tired of his stay on shore; though attached to his family, he was perfectly ready to go back to his ship. He had experienced, indeed, lately some difficulty in finding amusement for himself and companion. He and Voules had made the acquaintance of the lieutenant of the neighbouring coastguard station, who, having seen a great deal of service, and being a merry fellow, with a fund of anecdote, was an amusing companion. Lieutenant Hilton had several times been invited to dine at the hall, an honour he highly appreciated, although it cost him a long trudge there and back, over a somewhat wild region, with the risk of encountering some of the lawless characters of the neighbourhood, who looked upon him as their worst foe. He had one day been dining at the hall; the gentlemen having indulged freely in the bottle, as was too common in those times, were about to join the ladies in the drawing-room, when a servant entered to inform Lieutenant Hilton that a person wished to see him immediately on important business.

“He has probably brought information that a run is to be made to-night, and if so, Hilton, we’ll accompany you to see the fun,” said Lord Reginald. “Don’t go off without us, remember. We’ll mount you, and we will ride together, with any one else who likes to come.”

Lieutenant Hilton hurried out to see the messenger. He returned to say that Lord Reginald was right in his conjectures, and that there was no time to be lost, as a suspicious lugger had been seen off the coast, and that as the night promised to be dark, there was no doubt she would try to run her cargo before the morning.

The other gentlemen declined the proposed expedition, and Voules would gladly have remained behind, but he could not venture to allow Lord Reginald to go without him, especially as he himself had proposed assisting the revenue, should an opportunity occur. Very unwillingly, therefore, he went to his room to prepare for the ride, instead of passing the evening, as he had hoped, in the society of Lady Julia.

The marquis, although he would rather his son had not undertaken what might prove a hazardous expedition, could not object, as he had expressed his resolution by every means in his power to put down the smugglers. The horses were soon ready, and the lieutenant and the two midshipmen, led by the mounted exciseman who had brought the information, set off by a road which would lead them to the westward of Milford. The excise officer informed the lieutenant that a messenger had been despatched to obtain the assistance of a party of dragoons stationed at Lymington, and that a small body of sea-fencibles, belonging to the district, were hurrying on towards the expected scene of action. With the aid of the lieutenant’s own men, a sufficient force would thus, it was hoped, be collected to seize the goods should they be landed, while the boats on the station were despatched to try and capture the lugger herself before she had completely discharged her cargo. The exact spot where it was intended the lugger should run her cargo was unknown, but it was supposed that it would be somewhere between Hurst and Christchurch. The cliffs here are of considerable height, rising above a narrow beach, and, continually crumbling away, exhibit numerous fossil remains. In some places they are broken by narrow gullies, which, sloping up gradually from the shore to the downs above, afford easy pathways up which both men and loaded animals can climb without much difficulty.

Since information had first been received of the intended run from a treacherous confederate of the smugglers, preparations for their capture had been carried on with the greatest possible secrecy and rapidity. It was important to prevent the smugglers’ associates on shore from discovering that the revenue men were approaching.

Lieutenant Hilton having reached his station, summoned eight of his own men to accompany him. Here the midshipmen were provided with pistols and cutlasses. Their services were likely to be of use, as it was certain the smugglers would muster in large numbers. The horses were left at the station, while the lieutenant and his party proceeded to the spot where the sea-fencibles were posted, waiting for any information they might receive to guide their future proceedings.

It was in a hollow, surrounded by trees and brushwood, and about half a mile or so from the sea-shore. The night, as had been expected, was very dark, the wind a moderate breeze, blowing from the north-west. Not a word was spoken above a whisper, for fear lest their position should be discovered by any passing associates of the smugglers. The latter had given it out that the run was to be made on the other side of Christchurch head, and to induce them to suppose that this was believed, a party of revenue men had started off in that direction, taking care that their movements should be observed. It was hoped by this that the smugglers would be deceived, and would attempt the run at the spot named in the private information which had been received.

“This is dull work!” whispered Voules to Lord Reginald. “I thought we should be up and doing long ago.”

“Dull enough! I vote we set off by ourselves, to try and find out what the smugglers are about,” answered Lord Reginald.

“I should recommend riding back to the hall, and letting our friends here follow their own devices,” said Voules; “but it would not do, now that we have once put ourselves under Hilton’s command, to desert him.”

Their patience was to be further tried. At last, one of the scouts who had been set to watch the direction taken by those who were sure to assist in the landing, came in with the intelligence that he had traced them midway between the hamlets of Barton and Ash, and that he had seen suspicious lights both on shore and at sea. The latter were, it was guessed, shown on board the lugger, which was exchanging signals with the spotsmen on shore, leaving little doubt as to where the goods would be run. As the distance to the spot was considerable, there was no time to be lost, for not only might the lugger’s cargo be landed, but carried far away into the interior before the revenue men could get there. There was a danger, however, should they arrive too soon, of their being discovered by the smugglers, who would in that case put off to sea again and wait for a more favourable opportunity.

The road followed by Lieutenant Hilton and his party led some distance from the shore. They proceeded as fast as they could move, forming a compact body, that they might run the less risk of being seen. The commander of the sea-fencibles arranged the plan of proceeding. He, with his men, would go to the westward, while the lieutenant was to attack the smugglers on the opposite side, and the excisemen were to guard the upper part of the hollow or gully which led down to the water, so as to catch any of the smugglers who might be making their way up it to escape. This plan was arranged as they went along.

On reaching the neighbourhood of the spot, they halted, and scouts were sent out to ascertain if the smugglers had collected where they had been expected. In a short time the scouts returned, stating that a large body of men were on the beach, and one of them added that he had nearly been discovered by a party with pack animals proceeding down the gully which led to the same part of the shore. Lord Reginald was on the point of exhibiting his satisfaction by giving a loud shout, when Voules stopped him.

“On my lads!” said the lieutenant in a low voice; and he led his men by a narrow path which wound down the cliff to the west of the village of Barton, while the rest of the party, by a wide circuit, made their way to the opposite side.

It was agreed that Lieutenant Hilton should fire off a couple of pistols in rapid succession, as the signal for attacking the smugglers, and that both parties were to rush on them simultaneously, while the men at the top of the gully should stop them from making their escape in that direction.

Lord Reginald was eager for the attack, but Voules, as he made out the numbers in which the smugglers mustered, heartily wished that he had remained to enjoy the society of the ladies at the hall.

“We are likely to get more kicks than ha’pence, and little honour, at all events,” he muttered to himself.

From where they lay concealed, they could observe the boats coming on shore with the lugger’s cargo. The lieutenant watched until he considered that the larger portion had been landed. He directed Lord Reginald and Voules, with three men, to guard the foot of a pathway leading up the cliff, by which possibly some of the smugglers might attempt to make their escape. The outlaws had been carrying on their undertaking in perfect silence. Not a sound had been heard, when the report of the two pistols echoed among the cliffs. It was the signal for a general uproar. The revenue men dashed forward from both sides towards the party on the beach, who began shouting and swearing vehemently. Then came the flash of firearms, and the clash of cutlasses. The smugglers fought desperately. Some were hurriedly loading the horses, hoping to escape with a portion of the goods by land, others were engaged in throwing the packages back into the boats, and endeavouring to shove off, and regain the lugger. The revenue officers, knowing that this would be attempted, rushed forward to prevent them. Here some of the hottest fighting took place. As they could not escape through the gully, no attempt was made to stop them from entering it. Before long, however, the smugglers discovered how they had been entrapped, when those who had gone off came running back with the disastrous intelligence. All attempts to save the goods were abandoned. Each man thought only how he could best make his escape. Some endeavoured to climb the cliffs, others rushed beneath them, to the westward. One party made a dash for the pathway guarded by Lord Reginald and Voules. So furious was their onslaught, that Voules was knocked over, and while their men had each an opponent, two other smugglers rushed past Lord Reginald. He fired, but whether his bullet took effect or not, he could not tell; by the flash, however, he thought that he recognised the features of Dick Hargrave, whose companion, wresting the young lord’s sword from his grasp, dashed on up the path, and both were soon lost to sight in the darkness. Lord Reginald made a vain attempt to follow the fugitives, but, unable to see his way, was glad to rejoin his companions.

“I know the young rascal, and have now proof positive that he is a smuggler!” he exclaimed. “Voules, did you see him?”

But Voules, who had been lying on the sand where he had been thrown, some feet below, only just then began to recover. Several seconds elapsed before he was again able to take part in what was going forward. The other smugglers, who had tried to escape up the path, were secured.

The fighting continued, however, for some time longer, till, one after the other, the smugglers were knocked down and captured, four being killed, and a large number wounded, while two of the revenue men lost their lives, and several others were severely hurt. Dore, with the few people still remaining on board the lugger, waited in the hopes of the boats getting off, but when they knew by their not returning that their friends must have been taken, the cable was cut, and theNancystood out to sea. She had, however, proceeded but a short distance when two revenue boats dashed alongside, and her diminished crew, being unable to make any effectual resistance, she was captured, with the remainder of the contraband goods on board, more than sufficient to condemn her.

Lieutenant Hilton was very well pleased with the result of the enterprise. Seldom had so large a capture been effected. He had, however, still a difficult task to perform, as he had scarcely men sufficient to guard the prisoners, whose desperate character he knew full well, while he had the additional duty of conducting the packhorses.

The smugglers at first appeared to submit quietly enough, but that was no proof that they would continue to do so, should they find an opportunity of escaping.

As there were not more than three lanterns among the whole party, it was difficult to ascertain whether the prisoners were properly secured. At any moment, they might break loose and effect their escape. They had, indeed, every motive for doing so. They had not only been captured smuggling, but had weapons in their hands, opposing the king’s authority, and one and all of them might be tried for the death of the two revenue men who had fallen. All who had been taken were now brought together and placed under the cliffs, watched by a strong guard, while the bales and kegs, which lay scattered about in all directions, were collected and packed on the horses.

The order to march was given. The pack animals went first, followed by the captured smugglers, who uttered curses, deep if not loud, on their hard fate. Then came the men told off to carry the wounded who were too much hurt to walk. Lord Reginald and Voules brought up the rear. The killed were left above high water mark on the beach, until a party could be sent to carry them to Barton churchyard, where the revenue man and smuggler were destined to lie side by side.

The party at length reached the top of the cliff, and directed their course towards the high road running between Christchurch and Lymington. They had proceeded about a mile, when a number of armed men, springing out from behind the hedges on either side, suddenly attacked the conductors of the pack-horses, which they endeavoured to carry off. The prisoners, taking advantage of the confusion, attempted to escape, and there appeared every probability that some would succeed.

“Cut down the fellows, if they try to get off!” cried Voules, and the other officers repeated the order.

At that moment the clattering sound of horses’ hoofs coming along the road was heard. A cry arose, “The dragoons are upon us!” The men who had made the last daring attempt to recover the goods took to flight. Two were captured by the soldiers, who went in pursuit, but the rest effected their escape.

Mr Hilton gladly handed over the prisoners to the charge of the military, while he accompanied Lord Reginald and Voules back to the station where they had left their horses.

“I wish that you would remain here until the morning,” said the lieutenant, when they reached it. “There are a number of rough characters allied with the smugglers, who, should they fall in with you, may take it into their heads to revenge themselves by shooting you.”

“I am not afraid of them,” answered the young lord. “Voules and I together are able to tackle a dozen such fellows. Thank you for your invitation, but our friends at the hall will be anxious to know what has happened, and I want to tell my father how admirably you have managed affairs.”

The lieutenant, finding that the midshipmen could not be induced to remain, ordered the horses to be brought out, and Lord Reginald, saying that he would the next morning send a groom for the animal the lieutenant had ridden, being well acquainted with the way, set off with Voules for the hall.

“As there is no fear of our losing the road, even in the dark, we may as well take a short cut,” he observed, after they had gone some distance. “We shall save a mile or more, and have the advantage of turf. The moon, too, will soon be up, and we shall be able to gallop a good part of the distance.”

Voules had nothing to say against this proposal, though he would have preferred the high road.

“This lane will lead us on to the heath, and as the sky is clear, there will be light enough, even before the moon rises, besides which our horses know the way as well as I do,” said Lord Reginald.

They rode down the lane at a more steady pace than they had hitherto been going, for it was full of ruts, and somewhat narrow and winding. It conducted them on to a wild heath, beyond which could be discerned the outskirts of the New Forest, the trees in some places projecting over the heath like the advance guard of an army, while in others wild glades opened out extending far into the interior. Towards one of these glades Lord Reginald directed his course.

“By keeping a little to the right it will lead us to the high road again,” he observed. “There’s the moon just rising above the trees. We shall be able to push along now, without fear of rushing into a hedge.”

Crossing the heath by a tolerably well-defined footpath, they entered the forest, and were galloping along a grassy glade, on which their horses’ hoofs produced scarcely a sound, when Lord Reginald uttered an exclamation of surprise.

“Halloa! I see a fellow ahead. Where can he be going?”

“Probably one of the smugglers, who managed to make his escape,” answered Voules.

“Whoever he is, we will stop him and ascertain why he is out at this time of night. Stop, you fellow!” cried Lord Reginald; “we want to speak to you.”

The person, who apparently had not before heard them coming, only increased his pace; on seeing which the young lord spurred on his horse.

The stranger, who might possibly have escaped by darting in among the trees, instead of making the attempt, finding that his pursuers were gaining on him, stopped and faced them, holding a thick stick, which might properly have been called a club, in his hand.

“Throw down that bludgeon and come here,” said Lord Reginald.

“Not while I am spoken to in that tone,” answered the stranger. “I have as much right to be out in this forest as you have.”

“You must tell us who you are, and where you are going!” cried Lord Reginald, riding up to him.

The stranger lifted up his club, exclaiming, “Hands off! If you attempt to touch me, you must take the consequences.”

Just then a gleam of light from the rising moon shone on the stranger’s face.

“I know the rascal!” cried Lord Reginald; “it’s that young Hargrave. Not the first time we have met tonight. You are one of the fellows who made their escape from the excisemen; but you are not going to do so from us; so yield at once! Come, help me, Voules!” and the young lord, spurring forward his horse, attempted to seize Dick by the shoulder.

The latter sprang back, and, whirling round his club, struck Lord Reginald a blow on the arm which effectually prevented him from using it, and before Voules could lay hold of him, Dick had rushed off among the trees, which quickly concealed him from view.

In vain Lord Reginald, in spite of the pain he was suffering, urged his horse after him. The stems of the trees, growing thickly together, prevented him from following, and Dick was soon safe beyond the pursuit of the horsemen.

“This is provoking; but we will have him yet!” cried Lord Reginald.

“I am afraid the villain has broken your arm!” exclaimed Voules.

“It seems something like it from the pain I am suffering,” answered Lord Reginald; “however, the sooner we can get home to have it looked to the better.”

“Yes, indeed,” said Voules; “I am deeply grieved. I would have shot the young savage had I thought he would have had the audacity to strike you.”

“No, no; I should have been sorry if the fellow had been killed,” said Lord Reginald. “All I wanted was to take him prisoner, and send him off with the rest to sea, for I suppose that will be the lot of all who are fit to serve. However, as we are not likely to see more of him for the present, I shall be glad to get home. This arm of mine hurts me fearfully.”

They again put their horses into a gallop, and continued on until they reached the end of the glade, which led out on the high road. Lord Reginald bore the pain manfully; indeed, it was surprising that he did not faint and fall from his horse. The trotting along the road was even worse than the gallop, and at last he had to tell Voules to stop and walk. It was nearly two o’clock in the morning when they reached the hall. They found Lord and Lady Elverston, with Lord John, sitting up for them.

“Most thankful to see you back,” said Lord Elverston, who came out to meet them; “we were too anxious to go to bed. One of the grooms had brought word that there had been a desperate fight between the revenue men and the smugglers, and that there had been a number of killed and wounded. Good Heavens! what is the matter? You look very pale. Are you hurt?”

“Yes, but not in the fight,” answered Reginald, as he entered the drawing-room and sank into a chair. He then described the encounter with Richard Hargrave.

“The young ruffian must be punished,” exclaimed the marquis. “It is evident that he is leagued with the smugglers, and this last outrage shows his desperate character. Do you feel much pain?”

“Very much; indeed, I fear that my arm is broken,” answered Lord Reginald.

On hearing this Lady Elverston came to his side. “My dear boy, I trust not,” she said; “you must go to bed, and let Mrs Cross and me examine your arm.”

“If it is broken we must send off for a surgeon immediately,” said the marquis.

“I would rather have some supper first. I dare say so would Voules, for we both of us felt very hungry as we came along, and I hope after all, no bone is broken.”

The tray was at once brought up, and though Voules did ample justice to the viands it contained, Lord Reginald, after making several ineffectual attempts to eat, had to confess that the pain overpowered him, and he allowed himself to be led off to his room by his mother and brother.

Mrs Cross, the housekeeper, was soon in attendance, having evidently, by the way her dress was put on, with her night-cap on her head, just risen from her slumbers. The young lord was quickly undressed, when, on his arm being examined, Mrs Cross declared it as her opinion that no bone was broken; and all that was required were fomentations and rest.

“I am sorry to hear so bad a character of young Hargrave. His mother and blind sister are at all events good people, and it will grieve them sorely,” observed Lady Elverston to her husband, who answered only with the significant exclamation of—

“Humph! Perhaps so.”

The pain was somewhat relieved by the fomentations applied by the housekeeper, who offered to sit up with the young lord; and though he declared that he should do very well without assistance, he was glad at length to accept her offer.

Voules came in just before going to bed, to express his deep concern.

“I shall do very well in a day or two,” said Lord Reginald, “and it won’t prevent me from joining my ship.”

Notwithstanding his assertion, he was very feverish during the night, when he was constantly uttering expressions which showed the animosity he felt against Dick Hargrave, complaining that he was the cause of the pain he was enduring. This was reported the next morning by Mrs Cross to the marchioness.

“It is a shame, my lady, that so bad a lad should be allowed to be at large. I hope my lord will have him taken up and sent off to Botany Bay, or anywhere out of the way, for if he meets Lord Reginald again, I don’t know what will come of it.”

Next morning the doctor, who had been sent for, arrived, and greatly relieved the minds of Lord and Lady Elverston by assuring them that their son’s arm was not broken.

“No thanks to the young ruffian who inflicted the blow,” observed the marquis; “we must have him apprehended, for such an outrage must not be allowed to go unpunished.”

The doctor directed Lord Reginald’s arm to be fomented, and observed that he must carry it for a few days in a sling, assuring him that he need not fear any serious consequences.

“Then it will not prevent him from joining his ship?” observed the marquis, who had his reasons for wishing that the midshipmen should not remain longer at Elverston.

“Not if he can perform his duty without going aloft, or using his arm for the present,” replied the doctor.

Lord Elverston said he would write to the captain on the subject.

“In that case his lordship may join his ship immediately,” observed the doctor, who seemed to understand the marquis’s wishes.

Voules, who had been present during the discussion, was far from satisfied with the doctor’s decision. He had hoped that the injury Lord Reginald had received would serve him as an excuse for remaining until the frigate was on the point of sailing, as he himself was in no hurry to leave Elverston Hall.

The marquis, however, had observed his attentions to Lady Julia, and although he gave his daughter credit for discretion, he thought it was as well to send the young gentleman away. Having a pretty good knowledge of the world, he had taken the measure of Toady Voules more accurately than his son had done, and had seen through him. When Lord Reginald, faithful to his promise, had begged his father to use his influence at the Admiralty to get Voules promoted, the marquis replied that he should be happy to serve any friend of his, but for certain reasons he could make no promise, and that he must know more about the young gentleman before he could recommend him to their lordships.

“But he is really a capital fellow,” said Lord Reginald. “He sticks like a leech to me, and I can always depend upon him.”

“Leeches suck blood,” answered the marquis, laughing. “I don’t think you have well considered the simile.”

“I mean that he is always ready at hand when I want him to do anything I require,” answered Lord Reginald. “He is the most convenient fellow I ever met.”

“Well, well, I will remember your wishes,” said the marquis.

Lord Reginald saw that he must not press the point further. Voules looked very melancholy at the thought of leaving Elverston. He was in an especially bad humour too, for though Lady Julia treated him as she had always done, he began to suspect that he had made no great way in her good graces. The utter indifference she showed when he talked of going away, convinced him of this, and although to the last the family treated him, as Lord Reginald’s friend, with the utmost kindness, no one expressed the hope that they might soon again have the pleasure of seeing him.

A couple of days having passed, the midshipmen were ready to obey the order to rejoin their ship. A Yarmouth pilot vessel having been engaged to convey them to Portsmouth, they set sail in her from Keyhaven. Taking a favourable tide, with a fair wind, they might easily get there in six hours, whereas the journey by land would have occupied nearly a couple of days. The crew of the pilot vessel, as they stepped on board, looked at the midshipmen askance, evidently having heard of the part they had taken in the capture of the smugglers, many of whom were their relatives and friends. The captain, however, treated them with the greatest civility, but took good care not to answer any questions they put to him concerning the smugglers, leaving them to suppose that he was ignorant of the existence of such persons, and was not even aware that there was any smuggling on that coast.

Of Dick Hargrave nothing had been heard, but a warrant had been taken out for his apprehension, and people were on the watch to capture him should he make his appearance, or should his place of concealment be discovered. A fresh breeze quickly carrying the cutter up to Portsmouth, Lord Reginald and Voules once more found themselves on board theWolf, which had hauled away from the dockyard, ready to go out to Spithead.

Chapter Six.The second trip of the Nancy—Particulars of the landing—How it fared with Dick and Ben—Wandering in the forest—In hiding—Nearly caught—Seized by a pressgang—Kindness of the landlady at the Admiral Benbow—Ben Rudall a prisoner—On board the tender—Off Cowes—The Wolf—Mr Bitts, the boatswain—Dick recognises Lord Reginald and Voules—An attempt to make an exchange.When Dick Hargrave sailed the second time on board theNancy, he forgot the saying that “the pitcher which goes often to the well gets broken at last,” or that few who follow a lawless occupation escape from suffering in the end. Of course, he should have been influenced by a far higher motive, but he had not been taught to look upon smuggling in the same light which an honest man does nowadays. Even his father regarded it with a lenient eye, though he had ever refused to take a share in the proceedings of the smugglers by permitting his horses to be used in transporting the goods when landed on the coast. Dick had a tolerably pleasant life on board theNancy, as Dore and the crew always treated him kindly.The lugger, as before, ran into the quiet little harbour in which she was wont to take her goods on board, and had a narrow escape from a French cruiser; but had got free by the very common device of lowering all her canvas during the night and allowing her pursuer to pass her. Without further cause for alarm, she made the English coast. Dick, though he liked the life well enough, had no wish to continue in it; he wanted to see his parents and Janet, and to relieve their anxiety about him. He had resolved, therefore, to quit theNancy, and to go on shore with Ben, who did not intend to make the next trip in her. It was settled, therefore, that he and Ben were to pull in one of the boats engaged in landing the cargo, and that afterwards they were to assist in escorting the goods safe into the interior. After they had once got away from the coast, there was but little danger of their being captured.“All right,” said Ben to Dick, as the lugger stood in to the westward of the Shingles; “the revenue men have been told that there is to be a run made this very night, Portland way, and they will all have gone off there and left the coast clear for us, so that there is no fear as to our getting the goods safe on shore.”There seemed every probability that Ben’s prognostications would prove true. The night was dark, and the wind sufficiently off shore to enable theNancyto stand close in. The expected signals were seen. The anchor was dropped, the boats lowered, and immediately afterwards, others came off from the shore, bringing the satisfactory intelligence that everything was clear for the run. The vessel was rapidly unloaded. The greater part of her cargo had been discharged, and was already on the beach, when the reports of Lieutenant Hilton’s pistols were heard, and the smugglers found themselves beset on both sides by their enemies. Dick and Ben were already on shore, and were engaged in loading the packhorses.“You get out of it, Dick,” said Ben, “either climb the cliff or run along the beach; you’ve nothing to fight for.”Dick hesitated; he felt that it would be cowardly to desert his companions.Ben, though not thus influenced, suspected his motive. “Come, lad,” he said; “there’s a path not far from this, and the chances are there is no one to stop us going up it; I’ll show thee the way.” Saying this, he dashed forward quickly, followed by Dick.He was disappointed in one respect—the path was guarded, but knocking over the first person who opposed him, who happened to be Mr Voules, and wrenching the cutlass out of Lord Reginald’s hand, he dashed on. Dick, who kept close behind him, had a narrow escape of being shot, and felt pretty sure that Lord Reginald, whom he recognised, had seen him.Continuing on a short time, they were satisfied that they were not pursued, and might proceed homewards with little risk of further interruption. Still, Ben could not resist the temptation of trying to ascertain the fate of his companions. It appeared to him that they had been attacked by a comparatively small party, and that could a number of determined men be collected, they might effect a rescue. He and Dick made their way, therefore, to a farm-house, in which it had been arranged that the heavier part of the goods should be stowed, until they could be conveyed away to a distance. Here he found several persons, to whom he gave the first intelligence of the disaster. They instantly hurried off to collect other men from all directions. As it was well known what road the party with the captured goods would take, they intended to form an ambush to surprise them, but the smugglers, not having time to do this, made their attack in a less favourable position, with the result which has been seen.Dick again escaped, but what became of Ben he could not tell, though he hoped that he also had got off. Much as he had wished to see his father and mother, he now almost dreaded to meet them. His intention was to reach home by daybreak, and having seen them again to go off and hide himself in a woodman’s hut in the forest, or in some other place, where he could remain until the search after him had ceased. It was not likely indeed, that much trouble would be taken, unless Mr Gooch, for the sake of influencing his father, tried to get him into his power.With this intention he was making his way towards home, his thoughts so occupied that he did not hear the approach of Lord Reginald and Voules until they were close upon him. He would gladly have avoided an encounter, but at the same time he determined not to be taken prisoner when he saw that such was the young lord’s intention. What happened has been described. On escaping from Lord Reginald, he soon reached a thick bush, behind which he could conceal himself with little chance of being discovered. He there lay perfectly quiet until he heard the two horsemen ride off.“I am thankful I had not my gun with me, or I might have been tempted to use it,” he said to himself. “Why should that young lord persecute me? He had no business to come and help the revenue men, and it could do him and that other fellow no good to make me a prisoner, except to boast of what they had done. If I go home now they will accuse poor father and mother of harbouring me, and I shall bring them into trouble. I wonder, after all, if Ben got off. If I thought that he did, I’d go to his cottage. He would hide me there until these two fellows have gone back to their ship, and the rest have got tired of looking for me. If poor Janet could see, I’d go home and let her alone know that I had come, and she would hide me away. As she can’t help me, poor girl! I don’t know what to do.”Such were some of Dick’s meditations. Overcome with fatigue, he lay down to rest a little, and, as was very natural, fell fast asleep. When he awoke it was broad daylight. It would not now do to venture down to Keyhaven. He would too probably meet some of the revenue men, who would to a certainty capture him. Home he dared not go; his only alternative was to remain in the forest until the return of night, when he could traverse the country with less risk of encountering any one. He was very hungry, but he was equally afraid of going to any cottage to beg for a crust, lest he should be recognised. Not far off was a pool, of which there were many in the forest, where he quenched his thirst. Hips and haws were now ripe, there were plenty around could, he eat enough to satisfy the cravings of hunger. There were tench, too, in some of the pools—fine, fat fish, which he might catch, as they lay under the bank, with his hands, but he had no means of lighting a fire to cook them. He walked about listening, lest he might be surprised by any one coming; then, growing weary, he again sat down under his bush. He was very hungry and very unhappy. Sometimes he thought he would go home in spite of the risk he would run, and try to see his mother alone. He might easily hide in one of the out-buildings, and steal in when his father had left the house, but then, knowing that he had been recognised by Lord Reginald, who would, he supposed, inform against him, he feared that he might be discovered by those who would be sent to search for him, though his mother, he felt sure, would do her best to conceal him.“I had better not,” he said to himself; “it shall only get father and mother into trouble; if they don’t know where I am, they cannot say. I’ll go down to Susan Rudall’s; she’ll stow me away, if I can reach her cottage without being seen. No one will think of looking for me there.”Dick, when on board the lugger, had been rigged out thoroughly as a young sailor. The dress, as he thought, was a sufficient disguise, should he meet any one in the gloom of the evening. His hunger made him very eager to reach Susan’s as soon as possible. Soon after the sun had set, therefore, he started for Keyhaven, going along by the by-paths, and keeping himself concealed as much as possible among the trees and brushwood. He calculated that it would be perfectly dark by the time he got to the village, and that he might enter Susan’s cottage without being perceived. For some time, meeting no one, he became bolder, and made his way along the lanes with less caution than he had before used. He had just turned an angle of the road, when he saw in the distance several persons coming towards him. He darted back, hoping that he had not been seen, and, getting through a hedge, he lay down in a dry ditch.Though perfectly concealed, he was almost afraid to breathe, lest he might be heard by the people passing. They had been too far off when first seen to enable him to ascertain who they were, and he dared not look through the hedge, lest they should perceive him. His heart beat quickly as he heard their footsteps approaching; he felt like a criminal escaping from justice. Though constitutionally brave, the consciousness that he had acted wrongly in many respects made him a coward. The men were only, as far as he could judge, labourers returning home after their day’s work. He heard them talking of the attempted run of contraband goods, the capture of theNancyand her crew, as well as of the number of people assisting in the landing who had been taken.“It will go hard with some of them,” observed one of the speakers; “they’ll bring it in ‘murder,’ maybe, as two of the king’s officers were killed, if they can prove who fired the shots. Whether of not, Botany Bay is the best they can expect, and many a year before they can see their wives and families again.”“A reward is offered for catching the chaps who escaped,” said another.What more was said Dick could not hear; he was thankful that he had not been seen by the men, or they would probably have detained him for the sake of the reward. He waited until they had got some distance, and then, creeping along the hedge, he again got into the lane, and ran on as before, looking out ahead so that he might not come suddenly on any other persons. Hungry and tired, he at length got close to Keyhaven. To pass through the village without being seen would be difficult. He heard voices, as if people were still about, and lights shone in the windows of the cottages in sight. Had he not been so hungry, he would have again hidden under a hedge until later in the evening; but eager to obtain something to eat, he hurried on, hoping by good chance to reach Susan’s cottage without being observed. He was passing the Rodney’s Head, when several persons issued from the door.“Hullo! make that fellow heave to, and see who he is,” said a voice; and two men came rushing after him.The words made Dick start off as fast as his legs would carry him. The men, however, followed. He might still, he hoped, escape, and reach Susan’s cottage. It was before him, but should he be seen to enter, it would afford him no shelter. If he could get round it, however, he might double back, making his way along on the other side of the village. He was unusually weak from long fasting, and found his strength failing him. His foot struck against a piece of an anchor fast in the ground, and down he fell. Before he could rise his pursuers were upon him.“You made a good run for it, my lad, but you are caught notwithstanding,” said one of the men. “No use in kicking up a shindy, so come along with us and make the best of it, as many another lad has done.”“Who are you? What are you going to do with me?” asked Dick.“We are men-of-war’s men, and are going to make you serve his Majesty, as we are doing,” was the answer, as Dick was led back to the village inn.“Won’t you let me go and see my friends first, or let me send them a message to say where I am gone?”The men laughed. “You can send a message when you are safe on board the tender. You’ll be sent off there presently, with a few other fine fellows we have laid hands on. Don’t be cast down, lad, you’ll like the service well enough when you get into our ways; and if you don’t, like many others, you’ll have to grin and bear it.”Dick made no answer; he was in for it, and it was useless to complain. The disappointment, however, did not take away his appetite. He quickly felt his hunger pressing him as at first. “I wish that you’d let me have a crust of bread and a piece of cheese, for I have not put anything into my mouth for many a long hour.”“Mrs Simmons will soon find that for you, and a glass of ale, too, my lad,” answered the seaman. “Maybe, if you’ve no shiners in your pocket, you’ll find some friend inside who will treat you.”On reaching the inn door, Dick saw a large party of seamen under an officer who had just mustered them outside, while several remained within, guarding persons with handcuffs on their wrists and seated on the benches. Two or three of them looked very disconsolate, but the rest were endeavouring to keep up their spirits by laughing and joking and talking to each other, or with their captors. Among the former, Dick, to his sorrow, saw his friend Ben Rudall, who, however, did not appear to recognise him. The landlady looked far from pleased at the guests she was compelled to entertain. Dick caught her eye.“Do give me something to eat, Mrs Simmons!” he exclaimed. “I’m pretty nigh starved.”“Bless me, Richard Hargrave! is that you? You shall have what little I have in the house; but it will be a sad night to those at home when they hear that you are taken.”“I wish that you’d send up and tell them, and get it broken gently to my mother and Janet,” said Dick, as Mrs Simmons placed bread and cheese, and a piece of cold bacon before him, with a mug of ale.“Be smart, my lad, and stow that food away,” said the seaman, who stood by with a pair of handcuffs. “You’ll get some breakfast on board the tender to-morrow morning.”“Maybe; but I should be starved to death before to-morrow morning, if you don’t let me eat this,” answered Dick, munching away with all his might. He had never eaten so fast, for he expected every moment that the seaman would lose patience and clap the handcuffs on him. He was allowed, however, to swallow the contents of the plate as well as the ale.“I’ll pay you, Mrs Simmons, some day when I come back; and thank you in the mean time,” said Dick, when he had finished his hasty meal.“You are welcome to it, my boy,” said the landlady, “and who knows but that you’ll one day come back a captain.”The sailor laughed as he clapped the handcuffs on Dick’s wrists. Directly afterwards the officer ordered the prisoners to be brought out, as the boat had arrived from the tender to carry them on board.Ben Rudall, who had hitherto been silent, finding that he was at once to be carried off, rose to his feet and lifting up his manacled hands addressed the officer, “It is hard lines for me, sir, to be dragged away from my wife and family, without so much as saying good-bye to them. They live not many doors off, down the lane; won’t you just let me go down and kiss the children? Maybe you are a father yourself, and you wouldn’t like to be carried away from your young ones without saying a few last words to cheer them up.”“It can’t be done, my man,” answered the officer, turning away. “If I grant you the favour, all the rest will be wanting to go and wish their wives and children farewell, and a fine account I should have to give of them! Bring the prisoners along!” he shouted to the seamen.“You’ll tell poor Susan what has happened,” said Ben, as he passed the landlady. “Tell her to keep up her spirits. I’ll be back home as soon as I can.”“Trust me, Ben,” said kind-hearted Mrs Simmons; “I’ll see your wife to-morrow morning, and tell her what you say.”The officer, losing patience, ordered his party to move on. The men-of-war’s men kept close around their captives, who would, they knew, attempt to escape if there was the slightest chance of their doing so, or they thought it possible that the smugglers’ associates might endeavour to rescue them. The boat, however, was reached without any attempt of the sort being made, and the prisoners were compelled to step on board.Some of the more daring resisted, hoping that perhaps even then assistance might come to them, but a seaman’s pistol held at the heads of the refractory ones compelled them to obey, and in another minute they were all seated in the boat, which at once pulled away for the tender.Dick found himself seated next to Ben.“A bad job this, my boy; I never thought you and I should be hauled away like this,” whispered Ben. “If they hadn’t put our wrists in irons we’d be overboard and soon stowed away where they wouldn’t find us in a hurry.”Dick did not say he thought that it was owing to Ben he was brought into his present condition. He merely answered, “I wouldn’t try to escape if I could. If a man-of-war is as bad as you say, I shall be dead in a short time, and it won’t much matter to any one.”“Silence there, men!” shouted the officer, who overheard Ben and Dick talking. “Give way, lads!”The boat was soon alongside the tender, a large cutter, which lay off the mouth of the creek. The captured men were compelled to mount her side, two stout fellows standing by to lift them up by the collars of their jackets, as they were unable to use their hands, when they were at once sent down into the hold of the vessel, over which a sentry with a loaded musket kept guard.It was a large, gloomy place, lighted by a single ship’s lantern, which hung from one of the beams. Dick could see that it already contained about twenty people, most of them rough, seafaring men, seated with their backs against the side, or stretched on the deck. Some were talking in low, grave tones, others were endeavouring to forget themselves in sleep. A few looked up and nodded as they recognised acquaintances, but not many words were exchanged between them. Dick saw several persons whom he knew, but the greater number had been captured by the pressgang on other parts of the coast. Dick, though no longer hungry, was very tired, and seeing a vacant spot, threw himself down with his back against the after bulkhead.“I have found out all about it,” said Ben, who some time afterwards seated himself by his side. “It is all owing to that young lord and his father. The marquis, I hear, wrote over to Portsmouth some time ago to have this pressgang sent down here to make a clean sweep of all the seafaring men they could lay hands on. If they had come a few days sooner, they would have stopped theNancyfrom attempting the run, and we should have got off again; but as ill luck would have it, they arrived just in time to catch us, and the other poor fellows who had come on shore. I wish that I could lay hands on that Lord Reginald; I’d pay him off.”“Little chance of that,” observed Dick; “he’ll soon be safe on board theWolf, and we shall be sent off, maybe, in some ship to the other end of the world. I don’t care where I go; but it seems to me what we have now to do is to make the best of it. I have been thinking over the matter since I have been staying here, and of course, as the king wants men to fight his battles, and as it is my luck, good or bad, to become one of them, I’ll do my best and try to keep clear of the cat-o’-nine-tails which you used to tell me about.”“You’ll be precious lucky if you are able to do that, my lad,” growled Ben. “Howsumdever, as we’re in for it, I don’t want to make you think things are worse than they are. You’ll soon find out what’s what.”“I suppose I shall,” answered Dick, who was becoming very sleepy, and in spite of the noises going on around him—the loud talking—the tramping of feet overhead—the movement of the vessel, which had got under way, and his uncomfortable position, he was soon in happy forgetfulness of all his troubles.The cutter, after proceeding some distance, met with a strong head wind, and was soon pitching her bows into the fast rising seas. Dick was awakened by finding himself slipping away to leeward, and presently afterwards the vessel shipped a sea, the heavy spray from which came down through the main hatchway, and gave an unpleasant shower-bath to those below it, and Dick had to scramble as best he could out of the water which collected to leeward. The cutter, under close-reefed mainsail, stood on, heeling over to starboard for some time; then she went about, and directed her course towards the north shore. Once more she tacked in the direction she had before been going. The smugglers grumbled and swore, expressing very little confidence in the seamanship of the dockyard maties. At length, however, they heard the order to take in the jib. The vessel came on an even keel, the anchor was let go; she had brought up in Cowes Roads.“If this wind holds, we shan’t see Portsmouth harbour to-day,” said Ben. “I suppose they can’t intend to keep the irons on our wrists, now they have got us all safe. If we stop here for the night, I have a great mind to try and get away. I have many friends on shore, and some of them are sure to come off to learn what this craft is about. If I get the chance, I’ll slip overboard and swim to one of their boats. What do you say, Dick; will you come?”“We haven’t got the chance yet,” answered Dick; “if I get off where should I go? I cannot return home, and I should just have to starve or beg, or take to some worse course. No, no; you may try it if you wish, but I’ll stay here and learn what a man-of-war is like.”Ben made further vain attempts to induce Dick to join him. Their conversation was interrupted by several men coming from forward with a supply of biscuits and cold salt beef and a grog tub, which, with a number of tin mugs, was placed in the centre of the deck. The latter seemed to afford infinite satisfaction, and the prisoners, in much better humour than before, laughed and talked and joked as if they had no cares in the world. A strict watch was still, however, kept over them, as, from their desperate character, it was suspected that they would not fail to try and take advantage of any opportunity which might offer of getting free.For upwards of three days the cutter lay at Cowes, the captured men being narrowly watched, though tolerably well fed and not ill treated. The time passed heavily away. Growling and swearing was the order of the day. Dick heard some of the smugglers vow that, if taken on board a man-of-war, they would sooner blow the ship up than remain in her; that all ships were alike—perfect hells afloat; and that it would be better to be shot or hung at once than to endure the existence they would have to lead on board. Of one thing he himself was certain, that he was heartily sick of being kept down in the cutter’s hold. He felt eager to get free, even though he might have to exchange it for one of the much-abused king’s ships.At length, the weather moderating, the cutter got under way and stood for Spithead, where several men-of-war rode at anchor. While the cutter lay hove to, a boat with a lieutenant from one of them came alongside. The officer, on stepping on board, ordered the men to be mustered. Dick watched him, and thinking from his countenance that he must be a good-natured, kind man, hoped that he himself might be among those he was about to select for his ship. The lieutenant spoke to the men one by one, asking them various questions, and finally chose a dozen of the best hands, who were forthwith ordered to get into his boat.Dick was greatly disappointed on finding that Ben and he were not taken. The commander of the cutter then received directions to run into Portsmouth harbour, and to take the remainder of the prisoners on board another ship, which lay there ready to receive them. Various surmises were offered as to what ship she might be. Neither Dick nor Ben could gain any information.“It matters very little; they’re all alike,” growled Ben.On entering the harbour the question was soon settled. A fine frigate lay at anchor off the dockyard, with her sails bent, and with every appearance of being ready for sea. The cutter brought up close to her, and a signal being made, she at once sent a boat alongside.“Now, lads, tumble up!” cried the lieutenant. “You have got to serve his Majesty, and I would advise you to put a good face upon the matter, and show that you are honest Englishmen, ever ready to do your duty and fight for your country. You’ll come back with your pockets full of prize money, and be glad you went.”Dick listened. “That’s what I want to do,” he said to himself; “and I will if I can.”Some of the old hands—Ben among the rest—were not influenced in the same way.“All very fine!” he growled out; “but the proof of the pudding is in the eating. We shall get more scars on our backs from the cat than guineas in our pockets, I’ve a notion.”The boat was soon alongside, and Dick with his companions were ordered up on deck, where they stood grouped together until the first lieutenant came to take down their names, and enter them on the ship’s books. It was the first time Dick had ever been on board a man-of-war. He gazed round with astonishment at the extent of the white decks, the size of the highly polished guns, the height of the masts, the ropes neatly flemished down, and the order which everywhere prevailed.“She’s a fine ship, at all events; and if it wasn’t for father and mother and Janet, I should not be sorry to have come,” he thought.The first lieutenant, an active, kind-eyed looking officer, spoke to the men much in the same way as the commander of the cutter had done. When he came to Dick, he inquired whether he had been to sea before.“Only on board a lugger, sir,” answered Dick.“Well, my lad, I do not inquire what you were doing on board her; but I tell you, as you look a smart lad, that if you do your duty you will be sure to get on, and soon obtain a good rating.”Dick touched his cap, as he had seen some of the men doing when they spoke to an officer, and replied, “I’ll do my best, sir.”“That’s right, my lad,” observed the first lieutenant, as he turned away to attend to some other duty.Although on deck strict order and discipline prevailed, Dick on going below found a very different scene, and it was some time before he got accustomed to the uproar, the men in hoarse voices bawling to each other, and laughing and joking and playing all sorts of tricks, some rushing here and there, others seated in groups, amusing themselves in a variety of ways.“At all events, there can’t be much to make them unhappy, for they seem to be a merry set of fellows,” thought Dick, as he was standing by himself, watching what was going forward. An officer, with a silver chain and whistle round his neck, coming by, asked him his name. Dick told him, and replied to a few other questions. The officer passed on.“Who’s that?” asked Dick of another lad who happened to be standing near.“That’s Mr Bitts, the boatswain.”“He seems a fair-spoken gentleman,” observed Dick.“Gentleman! I don’t think he calls himself a gentleman; but he has a good deal to do with us, and it is wise to stand well with him, for he can use that rattan he had in his hand pretty smartly.”Shortly afterwards Mr Bitts came back. Touching Dick on the shoulder, he said, “I want a boy, and I have applied for you. You’ll understand you are to attend on me, so look out and do your duty.”Dick, on inquiring of the other lad, found he was to be the boatswain’s servant, which, although not an office of much honour, had its advantages, if he could manage to please his master. Dick soon found that his duties were not very onerous, and provided he was smart and active, Mr Bitts appeared to be satisfied. Altogether, when the hammocks were piped down, and he was allowed to turn into the one allotted to him, which the boatswain ordered one of the men to show him how to sling, he was tolerably well pleased with the prospect before him. As he was not placed in any watch, he had the advantage of sleeping through the whole night.When the hammocks were piped up the next morning, he turned out refreshed and ready to do anything required of him. He had lost sight of Ben, who having found several acquaintances on board, and being engaged in talking with them, did not trouble himself about him.The next day, the captain coming on board, the crew were mustered, when all the men as well as the officers had to come on deck. Dick was thinking what a fine body of men they appeared, when his eye, glancing aft, fell on two of the midshipmen, one of whom had his arm in a sling, and he at once recognised Lord Reginald and Mr Voules. The former seemed to know him, for he saw the young lord turn to the other midshipman and say a few words, and then look again towards him. Dick had not before inquired what ship he was on board, but he now found that he belonged to theWolf.“I hope we shall not come across each other, and I’ll do my best to keep out of his way,” he said to himself. “He’ll not forget, however, how he came to have his arm in a sling, and maybe he’ll try to pay me off; if he does, I’ll show him that I won’t stand bullying aboard, any more than I would on shore.”Captain Moubray, having made a short address to his crew, reminding them of the renown they had already gained, and expressing his confidence that they would keep up their credit, ordered the boatswain to pipe down.Dick, according to his resolution, kept clear of Lord Reginald.“It is lucky for you, my lad, that I had applied for you, as the midshipmen have asked for you to be the boy of their mess,” said Mr Bitts, when Dick was attending on him that evening. “That young lord and Mr Voules wanted me to swap you for Tom Dolter, but I took Tom’s measure some time ago, and let me tell you, my lad, that you may bless your stars. It’s not pleasant to serve a dozen masters, though, if I hadn’t held out, that young lord and Mr Voules would have had their way.”Dick had good reason to be thankful at his escape. Next day the frigate went out to Spithead, took her powder on board, and blue-peter was hoisted, as a signal that she was about to sail.

When Dick Hargrave sailed the second time on board theNancy, he forgot the saying that “the pitcher which goes often to the well gets broken at last,” or that few who follow a lawless occupation escape from suffering in the end. Of course, he should have been influenced by a far higher motive, but he had not been taught to look upon smuggling in the same light which an honest man does nowadays. Even his father regarded it with a lenient eye, though he had ever refused to take a share in the proceedings of the smugglers by permitting his horses to be used in transporting the goods when landed on the coast. Dick had a tolerably pleasant life on board theNancy, as Dore and the crew always treated him kindly.

The lugger, as before, ran into the quiet little harbour in which she was wont to take her goods on board, and had a narrow escape from a French cruiser; but had got free by the very common device of lowering all her canvas during the night and allowing her pursuer to pass her. Without further cause for alarm, she made the English coast. Dick, though he liked the life well enough, had no wish to continue in it; he wanted to see his parents and Janet, and to relieve their anxiety about him. He had resolved, therefore, to quit theNancy, and to go on shore with Ben, who did not intend to make the next trip in her. It was settled, therefore, that he and Ben were to pull in one of the boats engaged in landing the cargo, and that afterwards they were to assist in escorting the goods safe into the interior. After they had once got away from the coast, there was but little danger of their being captured.

“All right,” said Ben to Dick, as the lugger stood in to the westward of the Shingles; “the revenue men have been told that there is to be a run made this very night, Portland way, and they will all have gone off there and left the coast clear for us, so that there is no fear as to our getting the goods safe on shore.”

There seemed every probability that Ben’s prognostications would prove true. The night was dark, and the wind sufficiently off shore to enable theNancyto stand close in. The expected signals were seen. The anchor was dropped, the boats lowered, and immediately afterwards, others came off from the shore, bringing the satisfactory intelligence that everything was clear for the run. The vessel was rapidly unloaded. The greater part of her cargo had been discharged, and was already on the beach, when the reports of Lieutenant Hilton’s pistols were heard, and the smugglers found themselves beset on both sides by their enemies. Dick and Ben were already on shore, and were engaged in loading the packhorses.

“You get out of it, Dick,” said Ben, “either climb the cliff or run along the beach; you’ve nothing to fight for.”

Dick hesitated; he felt that it would be cowardly to desert his companions.

Ben, though not thus influenced, suspected his motive. “Come, lad,” he said; “there’s a path not far from this, and the chances are there is no one to stop us going up it; I’ll show thee the way.” Saying this, he dashed forward quickly, followed by Dick.

He was disappointed in one respect—the path was guarded, but knocking over the first person who opposed him, who happened to be Mr Voules, and wrenching the cutlass out of Lord Reginald’s hand, he dashed on. Dick, who kept close behind him, had a narrow escape of being shot, and felt pretty sure that Lord Reginald, whom he recognised, had seen him.

Continuing on a short time, they were satisfied that they were not pursued, and might proceed homewards with little risk of further interruption. Still, Ben could not resist the temptation of trying to ascertain the fate of his companions. It appeared to him that they had been attacked by a comparatively small party, and that could a number of determined men be collected, they might effect a rescue. He and Dick made their way, therefore, to a farm-house, in which it had been arranged that the heavier part of the goods should be stowed, until they could be conveyed away to a distance. Here he found several persons, to whom he gave the first intelligence of the disaster. They instantly hurried off to collect other men from all directions. As it was well known what road the party with the captured goods would take, they intended to form an ambush to surprise them, but the smugglers, not having time to do this, made their attack in a less favourable position, with the result which has been seen.

Dick again escaped, but what became of Ben he could not tell, though he hoped that he also had got off. Much as he had wished to see his father and mother, he now almost dreaded to meet them. His intention was to reach home by daybreak, and having seen them again to go off and hide himself in a woodman’s hut in the forest, or in some other place, where he could remain until the search after him had ceased. It was not likely indeed, that much trouble would be taken, unless Mr Gooch, for the sake of influencing his father, tried to get him into his power.

With this intention he was making his way towards home, his thoughts so occupied that he did not hear the approach of Lord Reginald and Voules until they were close upon him. He would gladly have avoided an encounter, but at the same time he determined not to be taken prisoner when he saw that such was the young lord’s intention. What happened has been described. On escaping from Lord Reginald, he soon reached a thick bush, behind which he could conceal himself with little chance of being discovered. He there lay perfectly quiet until he heard the two horsemen ride off.

“I am thankful I had not my gun with me, or I might have been tempted to use it,” he said to himself. “Why should that young lord persecute me? He had no business to come and help the revenue men, and it could do him and that other fellow no good to make me a prisoner, except to boast of what they had done. If I go home now they will accuse poor father and mother of harbouring me, and I shall bring them into trouble. I wonder, after all, if Ben got off. If I thought that he did, I’d go to his cottage. He would hide me there until these two fellows have gone back to their ship, and the rest have got tired of looking for me. If poor Janet could see, I’d go home and let her alone know that I had come, and she would hide me away. As she can’t help me, poor girl! I don’t know what to do.”

Such were some of Dick’s meditations. Overcome with fatigue, he lay down to rest a little, and, as was very natural, fell fast asleep. When he awoke it was broad daylight. It would not now do to venture down to Keyhaven. He would too probably meet some of the revenue men, who would to a certainty capture him. Home he dared not go; his only alternative was to remain in the forest until the return of night, when he could traverse the country with less risk of encountering any one. He was very hungry, but he was equally afraid of going to any cottage to beg for a crust, lest he should be recognised. Not far off was a pool, of which there were many in the forest, where he quenched his thirst. Hips and haws were now ripe, there were plenty around could, he eat enough to satisfy the cravings of hunger. There were tench, too, in some of the pools—fine, fat fish, which he might catch, as they lay under the bank, with his hands, but he had no means of lighting a fire to cook them. He walked about listening, lest he might be surprised by any one coming; then, growing weary, he again sat down under his bush. He was very hungry and very unhappy. Sometimes he thought he would go home in spite of the risk he would run, and try to see his mother alone. He might easily hide in one of the out-buildings, and steal in when his father had left the house, but then, knowing that he had been recognised by Lord Reginald, who would, he supposed, inform against him, he feared that he might be discovered by those who would be sent to search for him, though his mother, he felt sure, would do her best to conceal him.

“I had better not,” he said to himself; “it shall only get father and mother into trouble; if they don’t know where I am, they cannot say. I’ll go down to Susan Rudall’s; she’ll stow me away, if I can reach her cottage without being seen. No one will think of looking for me there.”

Dick, when on board the lugger, had been rigged out thoroughly as a young sailor. The dress, as he thought, was a sufficient disguise, should he meet any one in the gloom of the evening. His hunger made him very eager to reach Susan’s as soon as possible. Soon after the sun had set, therefore, he started for Keyhaven, going along by the by-paths, and keeping himself concealed as much as possible among the trees and brushwood. He calculated that it would be perfectly dark by the time he got to the village, and that he might enter Susan’s cottage without being perceived. For some time, meeting no one, he became bolder, and made his way along the lanes with less caution than he had before used. He had just turned an angle of the road, when he saw in the distance several persons coming towards him. He darted back, hoping that he had not been seen, and, getting through a hedge, he lay down in a dry ditch.

Though perfectly concealed, he was almost afraid to breathe, lest he might be heard by the people passing. They had been too far off when first seen to enable him to ascertain who they were, and he dared not look through the hedge, lest they should perceive him. His heart beat quickly as he heard their footsteps approaching; he felt like a criminal escaping from justice. Though constitutionally brave, the consciousness that he had acted wrongly in many respects made him a coward. The men were only, as far as he could judge, labourers returning home after their day’s work. He heard them talking of the attempted run of contraband goods, the capture of theNancyand her crew, as well as of the number of people assisting in the landing who had been taken.

“It will go hard with some of them,” observed one of the speakers; “they’ll bring it in ‘murder,’ maybe, as two of the king’s officers were killed, if they can prove who fired the shots. Whether of not, Botany Bay is the best they can expect, and many a year before they can see their wives and families again.”

“A reward is offered for catching the chaps who escaped,” said another.

What more was said Dick could not hear; he was thankful that he had not been seen by the men, or they would probably have detained him for the sake of the reward. He waited until they had got some distance, and then, creeping along the hedge, he again got into the lane, and ran on as before, looking out ahead so that he might not come suddenly on any other persons. Hungry and tired, he at length got close to Keyhaven. To pass through the village without being seen would be difficult. He heard voices, as if people were still about, and lights shone in the windows of the cottages in sight. Had he not been so hungry, he would have again hidden under a hedge until later in the evening; but eager to obtain something to eat, he hurried on, hoping by good chance to reach Susan’s cottage without being observed. He was passing the Rodney’s Head, when several persons issued from the door.

“Hullo! make that fellow heave to, and see who he is,” said a voice; and two men came rushing after him.

The words made Dick start off as fast as his legs would carry him. The men, however, followed. He might still, he hoped, escape, and reach Susan’s cottage. It was before him, but should he be seen to enter, it would afford him no shelter. If he could get round it, however, he might double back, making his way along on the other side of the village. He was unusually weak from long fasting, and found his strength failing him. His foot struck against a piece of an anchor fast in the ground, and down he fell. Before he could rise his pursuers were upon him.

“You made a good run for it, my lad, but you are caught notwithstanding,” said one of the men. “No use in kicking up a shindy, so come along with us and make the best of it, as many another lad has done.”

“Who are you? What are you going to do with me?” asked Dick.

“We are men-of-war’s men, and are going to make you serve his Majesty, as we are doing,” was the answer, as Dick was led back to the village inn.

“Won’t you let me go and see my friends first, or let me send them a message to say where I am gone?”

The men laughed. “You can send a message when you are safe on board the tender. You’ll be sent off there presently, with a few other fine fellows we have laid hands on. Don’t be cast down, lad, you’ll like the service well enough when you get into our ways; and if you don’t, like many others, you’ll have to grin and bear it.”

Dick made no answer; he was in for it, and it was useless to complain. The disappointment, however, did not take away his appetite. He quickly felt his hunger pressing him as at first. “I wish that you’d let me have a crust of bread and a piece of cheese, for I have not put anything into my mouth for many a long hour.”

“Mrs Simmons will soon find that for you, and a glass of ale, too, my lad,” answered the seaman. “Maybe, if you’ve no shiners in your pocket, you’ll find some friend inside who will treat you.”

On reaching the inn door, Dick saw a large party of seamen under an officer who had just mustered them outside, while several remained within, guarding persons with handcuffs on their wrists and seated on the benches. Two or three of them looked very disconsolate, but the rest were endeavouring to keep up their spirits by laughing and joking and talking to each other, or with their captors. Among the former, Dick, to his sorrow, saw his friend Ben Rudall, who, however, did not appear to recognise him. The landlady looked far from pleased at the guests she was compelled to entertain. Dick caught her eye.

“Do give me something to eat, Mrs Simmons!” he exclaimed. “I’m pretty nigh starved.”

“Bless me, Richard Hargrave! is that you? You shall have what little I have in the house; but it will be a sad night to those at home when they hear that you are taken.”

“I wish that you’d send up and tell them, and get it broken gently to my mother and Janet,” said Dick, as Mrs Simmons placed bread and cheese, and a piece of cold bacon before him, with a mug of ale.

“Be smart, my lad, and stow that food away,” said the seaman, who stood by with a pair of handcuffs. “You’ll get some breakfast on board the tender to-morrow morning.”

“Maybe; but I should be starved to death before to-morrow morning, if you don’t let me eat this,” answered Dick, munching away with all his might. He had never eaten so fast, for he expected every moment that the seaman would lose patience and clap the handcuffs on him. He was allowed, however, to swallow the contents of the plate as well as the ale.

“I’ll pay you, Mrs Simmons, some day when I come back; and thank you in the mean time,” said Dick, when he had finished his hasty meal.

“You are welcome to it, my boy,” said the landlady, “and who knows but that you’ll one day come back a captain.”

The sailor laughed as he clapped the handcuffs on Dick’s wrists. Directly afterwards the officer ordered the prisoners to be brought out, as the boat had arrived from the tender to carry them on board.

Ben Rudall, who had hitherto been silent, finding that he was at once to be carried off, rose to his feet and lifting up his manacled hands addressed the officer, “It is hard lines for me, sir, to be dragged away from my wife and family, without so much as saying good-bye to them. They live not many doors off, down the lane; won’t you just let me go down and kiss the children? Maybe you are a father yourself, and you wouldn’t like to be carried away from your young ones without saying a few last words to cheer them up.”

“It can’t be done, my man,” answered the officer, turning away. “If I grant you the favour, all the rest will be wanting to go and wish their wives and children farewell, and a fine account I should have to give of them! Bring the prisoners along!” he shouted to the seamen.

“You’ll tell poor Susan what has happened,” said Ben, as he passed the landlady. “Tell her to keep up her spirits. I’ll be back home as soon as I can.”

“Trust me, Ben,” said kind-hearted Mrs Simmons; “I’ll see your wife to-morrow morning, and tell her what you say.”

The officer, losing patience, ordered his party to move on. The men-of-war’s men kept close around their captives, who would, they knew, attempt to escape if there was the slightest chance of their doing so, or they thought it possible that the smugglers’ associates might endeavour to rescue them. The boat, however, was reached without any attempt of the sort being made, and the prisoners were compelled to step on board.

Some of the more daring resisted, hoping that perhaps even then assistance might come to them, but a seaman’s pistol held at the heads of the refractory ones compelled them to obey, and in another minute they were all seated in the boat, which at once pulled away for the tender.

Dick found himself seated next to Ben.

“A bad job this, my boy; I never thought you and I should be hauled away like this,” whispered Ben. “If they hadn’t put our wrists in irons we’d be overboard and soon stowed away where they wouldn’t find us in a hurry.”

Dick did not say he thought that it was owing to Ben he was brought into his present condition. He merely answered, “I wouldn’t try to escape if I could. If a man-of-war is as bad as you say, I shall be dead in a short time, and it won’t much matter to any one.”

“Silence there, men!” shouted the officer, who overheard Ben and Dick talking. “Give way, lads!”

The boat was soon alongside the tender, a large cutter, which lay off the mouth of the creek. The captured men were compelled to mount her side, two stout fellows standing by to lift them up by the collars of their jackets, as they were unable to use their hands, when they were at once sent down into the hold of the vessel, over which a sentry with a loaded musket kept guard.

It was a large, gloomy place, lighted by a single ship’s lantern, which hung from one of the beams. Dick could see that it already contained about twenty people, most of them rough, seafaring men, seated with their backs against the side, or stretched on the deck. Some were talking in low, grave tones, others were endeavouring to forget themselves in sleep. A few looked up and nodded as they recognised acquaintances, but not many words were exchanged between them. Dick saw several persons whom he knew, but the greater number had been captured by the pressgang on other parts of the coast. Dick, though no longer hungry, was very tired, and seeing a vacant spot, threw himself down with his back against the after bulkhead.

“I have found out all about it,” said Ben, who some time afterwards seated himself by his side. “It is all owing to that young lord and his father. The marquis, I hear, wrote over to Portsmouth some time ago to have this pressgang sent down here to make a clean sweep of all the seafaring men they could lay hands on. If they had come a few days sooner, they would have stopped theNancyfrom attempting the run, and we should have got off again; but as ill luck would have it, they arrived just in time to catch us, and the other poor fellows who had come on shore. I wish that I could lay hands on that Lord Reginald; I’d pay him off.”

“Little chance of that,” observed Dick; “he’ll soon be safe on board theWolf, and we shall be sent off, maybe, in some ship to the other end of the world. I don’t care where I go; but it seems to me what we have now to do is to make the best of it. I have been thinking over the matter since I have been staying here, and of course, as the king wants men to fight his battles, and as it is my luck, good or bad, to become one of them, I’ll do my best and try to keep clear of the cat-o’-nine-tails which you used to tell me about.”

“You’ll be precious lucky if you are able to do that, my lad,” growled Ben. “Howsumdever, as we’re in for it, I don’t want to make you think things are worse than they are. You’ll soon find out what’s what.”

“I suppose I shall,” answered Dick, who was becoming very sleepy, and in spite of the noises going on around him—the loud talking—the tramping of feet overhead—the movement of the vessel, which had got under way, and his uncomfortable position, he was soon in happy forgetfulness of all his troubles.

The cutter, after proceeding some distance, met with a strong head wind, and was soon pitching her bows into the fast rising seas. Dick was awakened by finding himself slipping away to leeward, and presently afterwards the vessel shipped a sea, the heavy spray from which came down through the main hatchway, and gave an unpleasant shower-bath to those below it, and Dick had to scramble as best he could out of the water which collected to leeward. The cutter, under close-reefed mainsail, stood on, heeling over to starboard for some time; then she went about, and directed her course towards the north shore. Once more she tacked in the direction she had before been going. The smugglers grumbled and swore, expressing very little confidence in the seamanship of the dockyard maties. At length, however, they heard the order to take in the jib. The vessel came on an even keel, the anchor was let go; she had brought up in Cowes Roads.

“If this wind holds, we shan’t see Portsmouth harbour to-day,” said Ben. “I suppose they can’t intend to keep the irons on our wrists, now they have got us all safe. If we stop here for the night, I have a great mind to try and get away. I have many friends on shore, and some of them are sure to come off to learn what this craft is about. If I get the chance, I’ll slip overboard and swim to one of their boats. What do you say, Dick; will you come?”

“We haven’t got the chance yet,” answered Dick; “if I get off where should I go? I cannot return home, and I should just have to starve or beg, or take to some worse course. No, no; you may try it if you wish, but I’ll stay here and learn what a man-of-war is like.”

Ben made further vain attempts to induce Dick to join him. Their conversation was interrupted by several men coming from forward with a supply of biscuits and cold salt beef and a grog tub, which, with a number of tin mugs, was placed in the centre of the deck. The latter seemed to afford infinite satisfaction, and the prisoners, in much better humour than before, laughed and talked and joked as if they had no cares in the world. A strict watch was still, however, kept over them, as, from their desperate character, it was suspected that they would not fail to try and take advantage of any opportunity which might offer of getting free.

For upwards of three days the cutter lay at Cowes, the captured men being narrowly watched, though tolerably well fed and not ill treated. The time passed heavily away. Growling and swearing was the order of the day. Dick heard some of the smugglers vow that, if taken on board a man-of-war, they would sooner blow the ship up than remain in her; that all ships were alike—perfect hells afloat; and that it would be better to be shot or hung at once than to endure the existence they would have to lead on board. Of one thing he himself was certain, that he was heartily sick of being kept down in the cutter’s hold. He felt eager to get free, even though he might have to exchange it for one of the much-abused king’s ships.

At length, the weather moderating, the cutter got under way and stood for Spithead, where several men-of-war rode at anchor. While the cutter lay hove to, a boat with a lieutenant from one of them came alongside. The officer, on stepping on board, ordered the men to be mustered. Dick watched him, and thinking from his countenance that he must be a good-natured, kind man, hoped that he himself might be among those he was about to select for his ship. The lieutenant spoke to the men one by one, asking them various questions, and finally chose a dozen of the best hands, who were forthwith ordered to get into his boat.

Dick was greatly disappointed on finding that Ben and he were not taken. The commander of the cutter then received directions to run into Portsmouth harbour, and to take the remainder of the prisoners on board another ship, which lay there ready to receive them. Various surmises were offered as to what ship she might be. Neither Dick nor Ben could gain any information.

“It matters very little; they’re all alike,” growled Ben.

On entering the harbour the question was soon settled. A fine frigate lay at anchor off the dockyard, with her sails bent, and with every appearance of being ready for sea. The cutter brought up close to her, and a signal being made, she at once sent a boat alongside.

“Now, lads, tumble up!” cried the lieutenant. “You have got to serve his Majesty, and I would advise you to put a good face upon the matter, and show that you are honest Englishmen, ever ready to do your duty and fight for your country. You’ll come back with your pockets full of prize money, and be glad you went.”

Dick listened. “That’s what I want to do,” he said to himself; “and I will if I can.”

Some of the old hands—Ben among the rest—were not influenced in the same way.

“All very fine!” he growled out; “but the proof of the pudding is in the eating. We shall get more scars on our backs from the cat than guineas in our pockets, I’ve a notion.”

The boat was soon alongside, and Dick with his companions were ordered up on deck, where they stood grouped together until the first lieutenant came to take down their names, and enter them on the ship’s books. It was the first time Dick had ever been on board a man-of-war. He gazed round with astonishment at the extent of the white decks, the size of the highly polished guns, the height of the masts, the ropes neatly flemished down, and the order which everywhere prevailed.

“She’s a fine ship, at all events; and if it wasn’t for father and mother and Janet, I should not be sorry to have come,” he thought.

The first lieutenant, an active, kind-eyed looking officer, spoke to the men much in the same way as the commander of the cutter had done. When he came to Dick, he inquired whether he had been to sea before.

“Only on board a lugger, sir,” answered Dick.

“Well, my lad, I do not inquire what you were doing on board her; but I tell you, as you look a smart lad, that if you do your duty you will be sure to get on, and soon obtain a good rating.”

Dick touched his cap, as he had seen some of the men doing when they spoke to an officer, and replied, “I’ll do my best, sir.”

“That’s right, my lad,” observed the first lieutenant, as he turned away to attend to some other duty.

Although on deck strict order and discipline prevailed, Dick on going below found a very different scene, and it was some time before he got accustomed to the uproar, the men in hoarse voices bawling to each other, and laughing and joking and playing all sorts of tricks, some rushing here and there, others seated in groups, amusing themselves in a variety of ways.

“At all events, there can’t be much to make them unhappy, for they seem to be a merry set of fellows,” thought Dick, as he was standing by himself, watching what was going forward. An officer, with a silver chain and whistle round his neck, coming by, asked him his name. Dick told him, and replied to a few other questions. The officer passed on.

“Who’s that?” asked Dick of another lad who happened to be standing near.

“That’s Mr Bitts, the boatswain.”

“He seems a fair-spoken gentleman,” observed Dick.

“Gentleman! I don’t think he calls himself a gentleman; but he has a good deal to do with us, and it is wise to stand well with him, for he can use that rattan he had in his hand pretty smartly.”

Shortly afterwards Mr Bitts came back. Touching Dick on the shoulder, he said, “I want a boy, and I have applied for you. You’ll understand you are to attend on me, so look out and do your duty.”

Dick, on inquiring of the other lad, found he was to be the boatswain’s servant, which, although not an office of much honour, had its advantages, if he could manage to please his master. Dick soon found that his duties were not very onerous, and provided he was smart and active, Mr Bitts appeared to be satisfied. Altogether, when the hammocks were piped down, and he was allowed to turn into the one allotted to him, which the boatswain ordered one of the men to show him how to sling, he was tolerably well pleased with the prospect before him. As he was not placed in any watch, he had the advantage of sleeping through the whole night.

When the hammocks were piped up the next morning, he turned out refreshed and ready to do anything required of him. He had lost sight of Ben, who having found several acquaintances on board, and being engaged in talking with them, did not trouble himself about him.

The next day, the captain coming on board, the crew were mustered, when all the men as well as the officers had to come on deck. Dick was thinking what a fine body of men they appeared, when his eye, glancing aft, fell on two of the midshipmen, one of whom had his arm in a sling, and he at once recognised Lord Reginald and Mr Voules. The former seemed to know him, for he saw the young lord turn to the other midshipman and say a few words, and then look again towards him. Dick had not before inquired what ship he was on board, but he now found that he belonged to theWolf.

“I hope we shall not come across each other, and I’ll do my best to keep out of his way,” he said to himself. “He’ll not forget, however, how he came to have his arm in a sling, and maybe he’ll try to pay me off; if he does, I’ll show him that I won’t stand bullying aboard, any more than I would on shore.”

Captain Moubray, having made a short address to his crew, reminding them of the renown they had already gained, and expressing his confidence that they would keep up their credit, ordered the boatswain to pipe down.

Dick, according to his resolution, kept clear of Lord Reginald.

“It is lucky for you, my lad, that I had applied for you, as the midshipmen have asked for you to be the boy of their mess,” said Mr Bitts, when Dick was attending on him that evening. “That young lord and Mr Voules wanted me to swap you for Tom Dolter, but I took Tom’s measure some time ago, and let me tell you, my lad, that you may bless your stars. It’s not pleasant to serve a dozen masters, though, if I hadn’t held out, that young lord and Mr Voules would have had their way.”

Dick had good reason to be thankful at his escape. Next day the frigate went out to Spithead, took her powder on board, and blue-peter was hoisted, as a signal that she was about to sail.

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