Chapter Three.Good intentions—Blind Janet—Poor Faithful shot—A trying moment—Dick’s anger—Desire of revenge—A dangerous speech—Threatening to shoot—The consequences—Tempted—Indignation of the farmer’s son—A sorrowful duty—Grief of the blind girl—A scheme of Mr Gooch—Dick’s fears of arrest—Running away from home—At the smuggler’s cottage—On board the Nancy—Safe for the present.Dick Hargrave kept to his resolution of trying to avoid meeting with Lord Reginald. Should he do so it would not be his fault, and should he fall in with him, he would endeavour to retain his temper, should his lordship speak to him in his former style. He likewise refrained from going to Keyhaven, or any other place where he was likely to meet any of his associates engaged in smuggling, although it was difficult to say who was not, more or less, implicated in the lawless proceedings so general at that time along the south coast. He assisted his father on the farm, and occasionally took Janet out for a short walk, as, notwithstanding the doctor’s expectations, she was able to get up again the very day after she had appeared to be so ill.She declared that it was owing to the nice fish Dick had brought her. Again, however, she was confined to her room. As she could not take out Faithful, she begged that Dick would give him a run. “The poor dog sits so quietly at my feet all day, and if he sees me moving, I hear his tail thumping on the floor, and he begins to scamper about, fancying I am going to take him out. It is very dull for him, poor dog, and he deserves some amusement,” she said.Dick promised to follow her wishes, and the next morning, saying that he would try to shoot a rabbit, and summoning Faithful, who bounded after him, he set off with his gun in his hand. With the assistance of the dog, he soon shot a couple of rabbits, with which he was about to return home. Faithful, however, highly delighted at finding himself abroad, went ranging wildly over the fields. Dick called to him, but the dog was too eager in the chase or too far off to hear his voice, and did not, as usual, return. Some minutes passed, when Dick heard a shot coming from the direction in which Faithful had disappeared. He hurried on, fearing that one of the keepers had caught sight of him; but then they all knew Janet’s dog, and the most surly would not have had the heart to fire at the honest brute, even though he might have been infringing the game laws by scampering for amusement after a hare or rabbit. Dick looked out anxiously, hoping to see the dog return; but though he shouted, “Faithful! Faithful!” and whistled shrilly, the animal did not make its appearance. Wondering what could have become of it, he went on calling its name. At last he saw it crawling towards him, dragging its limbs along in evident pain. At length the poor dog, unable to get further, sank to the ground. Dick, darting forward to where it lay, stooped down to ascertain how it was hurt. Its lacerated side, which bled profusely, showed that it had been shot.“What villain has dared to hurt you, my poor Faithful?” exclaimed Dick.The dog’s only reply, true to its name, was to lick his hand and endeavour to rise, but again it fell back, and after a few convulsive struggles, expired.“Poor, poor Faithful! Janet will miss you, that she will! She will never find so trusty an animal to lead her about; but I’ll be revenged on the fellow, whoever he is. He ought to have known that you never poached, though you did love to run after a hare, for the fun of the thing. If I can meet the savage brute I’ll shoot him, as sure as my name is Richard Hargrave.”“What’s that you say, you young ruffian?” exclaimed a voice near him.Dick had not observed three persons who had approached. Looking up, he saw Lord Reginald and his brother midshipman, attended by a keeper.“I do say that the heartless fellow who shot this dog deserves to be shot himself,” exclaimed Dick, looking boldly up.“I shot the dog; it deserved to be killed for chasing hares on my father’s property,” answered the young lord. “You yourself must have set him on to drive the hares towards you. You are a poacher; we must have you up before the magistrates and punish you accordingly.”“I did not set him on,” answered Dick, rising to his feet, “and I had no intention of killing any hares on the Elverston property. These rabbits I shot on my father’s farm, and I had a perfect right to kill them. The dog belongs to my blind sister. As she is ill, I took the poor brute out for a run.”“A very likely story!” exclaimed Lord Reginald. “You have a gun in your hand and rabbits over your shoulder, and you had sent your dog scampering over the fields in search of more. I know your name, and shall report you to my father, so you may expect to take up your quarters in prison before many days are over.”“The lad speaks the truth, my lord, about the dog,” observed the keeper, who had stepped forward and examined poor Faithful. “I have seen it many a time leading Farmer Hargrave’s blind daughter about, though whether he shot the rabbits on his father’s farm or not is another matter. We have never found him poaching before, so that part of the story may be true also.”“I am sorry to have shot the dog, if it was useful to his blind sister,” said Lord Reginald; “and, I say, Jackson, I wish you’d look out for another to give the poor girl, instead of this one; she’ll not find out the difference.”“I wouldn’t let her receive it if you should give her one!” exclaimed Dick, his anger in no way pacified by the young lord’s expressions of regret. “No dog could be found to equal Faithful; but I myself will look after a dog to take its place.”“Really, my dear Oswald, I cannot stand by to see you thus insulted by this ungrateful young ruffian,” said Voules. “He has threatened to shoot you, and he looks like a fellow capable of doing what he says. The sooner he is taken up and sent to prison the better.”“I have not been poaching! If you lay hands on me it will be the worse for you,” said Dick, grasping his gun.“Come, come, Master Dick, do you go to your home, and do not be so foolish as to threaten mischief. It is dangerous to use such words, and you’ll be sorry for them by-and-by,” said the keeper, wisely interposing between the exasperated young men. “I know where to find you if you are wanted; but I don’t suppose the marquis will be hard upon you, when he hears how it was your sister’s dog was shot. If, my lord, you’ll please to let the lad go, I’ll undertake that he shall not come into the park again. His father is not the man to allow him to do anything against the law.”Lord Reginald, who really much regretted having shot the dog, willingly listened to the keeper’s advice, and Voules, who had no object to gain in irritating him further against Dick Hargrave, said no more on the subject.“Well, Hargrave, I will try to forget your threats, and I again assure you that had I known the dog was your sister’s, I would not have shot it,” said Lord Reginald, turning aside; and without waiting for an answer he led the way, followed by Voules and the keeper, in the direction of the hall, leaving Dick still standing by the side of his dog.“I do not trust his fair words,” said Dick, looking after the party; “but I am obliged to Jackson for speaking a word in my favour, for if it had not been for him, matters would have become worse. Poor Faithful! I don’t know how I shall ever have the heart to tell Janet what has happened,” and stooping down he again examined the dog, to assure himself that it was really dead. Of this he was soon convinced. “I’ll not let you lie here, my poor dog!” he exclaimed, and taking it up in his arms, he walked away with it towards his home. He was crossing the road from Keyhaven, when a voice hailed him, and looking round he saw Ben Rudall approaching.“What hast thou got there, Dick?” asked Ben. “Your sister’s dog—and killed, too! How did that happen?”Dick told him, describing what had occurred.“And thee wouldst trust the chaps, would thee?” said Ben, speaking in the Hampshire dialect. “No, no; don’t be doin’ that. Measter Jackson may have spoken fair enough, but he knows that he’s got his thumb on thee, an’ can come down on thee when he loiks. Now, just listen to what I have got to say. I was going to look for thee. TheNancyis expected in before many days are over, an’ she’ll be sailing again the next morning. If thee’ll come down to Keyhaven, there’ll be a good chance of taking a trip, an’ ’twill be safer for thee to be out of the way in case the young lord should change his mind an’ have thee up for poachin’. When the marquis hears of it, it’s my belief that he won’t let thee off, for he’s wonderfully strict about the matter, and if he had his will he’d be sending half the people hereabouts to prison.”Dick had not forgotten his mother’s advice to keep clear of Ben Rudall, and he knew well enough that even though he should only go as a passenger, he would be committed to whatever was done by her crew.“You mean kindly, Ben, I know,” he said; “but I cannot leave Janet, she’s so ill; and if she gets better, there’ll be no one except mother and me to walk out with her, now poor Faithful’s gone; but if I hear there’s a chance of my being had up for poaching, maybe it’s the best thing I can do.”Ben laughed scornfully. “They’ll not let thee know what they intend to do; but thee would find thyself carried off to Winchester jail some fine morning, so just don’t be a fool, Dick, an’ come along with me.”Dick, however, was firm in his resolution not to go off without seeing his mother and sister, and Ben was obliged to be content with his promise that he would come down to Keyhaven to talk the matter over. He would have been wiser had he not given that promise.Ben returned the way he had come, and Dick, carrying the body of his dog, continued on towards his home.On reaching the cottage, he carried the dog to a corner of the garden, while he went in for a spade to dig its grave. While he was searching for one in the outhouse, his mother saw him.“What has happened, Dick?” she exclaimed, observing the blood on his clothes.He at once narrated what had occurred, for although he had many faults, he was truthful to her.“I am very sorry for what has happened. Poor dear Janet will almost break her heart. She said that she should like to take a stroll to-morrow with Faithful, if you were not able to accompany her. However, we must bear with it. From what you say, the young lord would not have shot the dog if he had known whose it was, and if he gives Janet another, she may become as fond of it as she was of Faithful.”“I should not like her to become fond of Lord Reginald’s dog,” answered Dick. “If he sends one, I shall have a mind to shoot it, or send it back to him with a kettle tied to its tail.”“That would not be a right thing to do,” observed Mrs Hargrave. “We should not harbour ill feelings towards others, though they have done us wrong. Come in now, and let me wash the blood off your coat. It looks bad, and if your father were to return, it would frighten him, as it did me. We’ll just break the news gently to Janet, and don’t say you won’t receive another dog if the young lord sends one. Remember how kind his mother and sisters are, and I dare say he is not so bad at heart, though he has more than once fallen out with you.”“He has an abusive tongue in his head, and that shows what sort of heart he has got,” answered Dick, not inclined to agree with his mother about Lord Reginald. “You tell me the ladies speak so sweetly, but, as Ben Rudall says, that’s all outside show, and I would not trust them.”“That’s because you have never been at home when they have called, or you would have agreed with me, if you had,” observed Mrs Hargrave. “Stay here while I get a sponge and some hot water; I can’t let you go about as you are; I cannot tell what people would say. If you were seen, there would be all sorts of tales about you.”“I don’t care what is said, and I should just like them to know that Lord Reginald is a brute. That’s what I call him.”“Hush! hush, Dick!” said his mother. “Sit you down here, until I have taken off those blood stains, for although poor Janet cannot see them, some one else may come in, and ask what has happened.”Dick seated himself on a bench to which his mother pointed, and she quickly returned with soap and water. It was no easy operation, however, to get rid of the stains, and Dick declared that before he came in he must bury the dog. To this Mrs Hargrave consented, as she thought it would be a good opportunity to tell Janet of the loss of her favourite.Dick, taking up the spade, and having selected a spot for Faithful’s grave, began digging away. More than once he stopped and gazed at the animal, feeling unwilling to put it so soon out of sight; then he went on more energetically than before. Having just completed his task, he leaned on his spade, while the tears rolled down his cheeks, as he thought he should never see his dog again. The wind had begun to blow strong, and dark clouds were gathering in the sky. The gloomy aspect of Nature suited his feelings. On looking up, he saw his mother and Janet approaching.“Mother has told me, Dick, what has happened,” said his sister, as she came up. “I want to stroke Faithful’s head once more before you put him into his grave.” She stooped down by the side of the dog. “Oh! He doesn’t feel my hand now,” she said. “I am very sorry; but, Dick, I want you to promise me not to nourish anger against the young lord. He would not have fired had he known the dog was so useful to me. He told you as much. If I forgive him, you must.”“I may forgive, but I do not forget,” said Dick. “If he keeps to his word, I’ll believe that he did not intend to do the cruel act. However, we must put poor Faithful in his grave, and if I do not make a vow to be revenged on Lord Reginald, it is because you are here to prevent me, Janet.”“I would that you had a higher motive than that,” said Mrs Hargrave. “Now, Janet, you must return to the house; I promised you’d stop but one minute; Dick will soon have finished his task, and then he’ll come in to supper. Father will soon be home, Dick, so don’t delay.”Dick, having at length brought himself to place the dog in its grave, hastily shovelled in the earth, muttering as he did so, “He’d better not cross me again; if he does he’ll have to repent it. Lie there, poor dog!” he added, as he finished the work. “I’ve a mind to put up a tombstone, and write on it, ‘Wantonly killed by Lord Reginald Oswald.’”On entering the cottage, he found that his father, having come in, had heard what had happened. He was thankful at all events that he had not had to break the news to Janet. Farmer Hargrave said what he thought would pacify his son, and declared his belief that the young lord had not killed the dog with any malicious intent.Dick pressed his lips together and made no reply. He could not trust himself. They were just finishing supper when a knock was heard at the door, and Dick, opening it, Mr Gooch the bailiff entered.“Good evening, farmer; good evening, dame; somewhat stormy weather,” he said, throwing back his wet coat, and placing his dripping hat on the floor, as he took the seat offered him. “I didn’t think it was coming on to be so bad, until just before sunset. It blows hard enough now, and the rain is coming down in torrents, but I wanted to talk over that affair between us, so I came out in spite of the weather.”“What have you got to say, Mr Gooch?” asked the farmer. “You know as well as I do that I have no wish to leave this farm. It will be a heavy loss to me to give it up, and I am determined to abide by my rights.”“Very good, Mr Hargrave, very good,” said the bailiff, in a bland tone. “His lordship doesn’t want to be hard upon you, and if you have the right to remain, he would be the last man to ask you to turn out, but as I before told you, you have not the right, and if you go to law you’ll be worsted. Now, a little piece of information has come to my knowledge which may make you see that it would not be wise to go to law, even supposing there was a chance of your winning. I have not communicated with my lord on the subject, so I act on my own responsibility. This lad here, your son, has put himself in an awkward position. He has been poaching—not for the first time, either. I have just heard all about it from Jackson, the keeper, and from a young gentleman who is staying at the hall. They can give evidence, not only that he was poaching, but that he threatened the life of Lord Reginald Oswald—a very serious business, let me tell you. Had he fired, as he threatened to do, he would have been hung to a certainty, and as it is, I see every probability that he will be sentenced to seven years’ penal servitude. Now, of course, his lordship has it in his power to overlook the offence, and if I can tell him that you will yield to his wishes and consent to give up the farm, I am pretty sure that you will hear no more about the matter, only you must restrain your son from poaching in future, or from associating with smugglers, as I have evidence that he is in the habit of doing.”The farmer listened to all the bailiff said, while Dick sat clenching his hands, with his eyes to the ground, every now and then giving a look at his mother.Ben was right, then, in warning him. Had he accompanied the old smuggler at once, and got out of the way, Mr Gooch would not have been able to obtain the upper hand of his father.When the bailiff had finished, Mr Hargrave replied, “I have before given you my answer. I believe the marquis to be a just man. If he finds I have the right to continue in the farm, he would not wish to dispossess me. In regard to Dick, the provocation he received by having his dog killed would excuse any thoughtless words he might have uttered. So I cannot offer to give up my rights for fear of the consequences, and I will never believe that Lord Elverston would act as you suggest.”“Then you dare to say that you doubt my word, Farmer Hargrave?” exclaimed the bailiff, in a tone of indignation, rising from his seat. “I’ll give you until to-morrow to think over the matter; but you’ll take the consequences if you have the same answer ready for me. And dame, I would advise you to persuade your husband to act as I recommend, or, whether you go out of the farm or not, that lad of yours, before many days are over, will be lodged in Winchester jail, and be sent to Botany Bay, if he doesn’t get the chance of entering on board a king’s ship. Perhaps they won’t give him his choice, for threatening to shoot a lord is a serious matter.”“Oh, Mr Gooch, you would not be so cruel as to wish to send our Dick to prison!” exclaimed Janet, who had been listening to what was said.“All your father has to do is to agree to what I propose, and he is safe enough,” answered the bailiff. “I can stay no longer. I called in to give some friendly advice. If not taken, it is not my fault; so good night to all. I hope that you’ll settle the matter between you!”Mr Gooch got up to go. Dick opened the door, having no wish to detain him. Looking out, he saw that the account given of the weather was not exaggerated.“Is is plaguey dark, Mr Gooch!” he observed. “You’d better take a lantern, sir.”“No, no; I know my way as well in the dark as in the daylight,” was the reply, and Mr Gooch stepping out, was soon lost to sight.No sooner was the door closed than Dick exclaimed, “Don’t give in, father. I’d sooner go to prison, or Botany Bay, or be sent to sea, or be hung, for that matter, rather than that you should yield up your rights and be turned out of this farm.”“I will not give up the farm if I have a right to keep it, but if the law is against me, go I must; still, I would not have you suffer, Dick, unless you deserve it, and if it is proved that you were poaching, and that you threatened to shoot the young lord, you must, as the bailiff says, take the consequences, though it would well-nigh break my heart to see you punished. But I have not much fear on the score either way. It is my belief that the marquis does not know much about the matter of the farm, and from beginning to end it is all the doing of Mr Gooch. What he cares for is to please his master, and as he knows that his lordship has a fancy for extending the park, he wants to get me to turn out, and now that he thinks he has got hold of you, he fancies that he can frighten me to do so. In regard to your affair, Dick, when the marquis hears of the provocation you received, I don’t think he will be hard upon you.”The farmer made these remarks to tranquillise as far as he could the mind of his wife. Perhaps he did not feel so confident himself. So Dick at all events thought. The family soon afterwards separated for the night.Dick went to his room, but could not sleep. The storm itself, though it whistled and howled around the cottage, would not have kept him awake. He thought over all that had happened, what he himself had said, and how Lord Reginald had looked and replied. “Whatever the gamekeeper may say, that other young fellow is against me, and if they take me before the magistrate, Mr Jackson will be upon his oath, and compelled to corroborate the midshipman’s statement. It all depends on what they choose to do. There is no doubt I did threaten to shoot Lord Reginald, and I felt wonderfully inclined to do it, too. There’s only one way I can see to get out of it and save father, and that is to take advantage of Ben Rudall’s offer and to keep out of the way until the affair is blown over; I won’t tell father or mother or they may be wishing to stop me; but I’ll write a letter just to wish them and Janet good-bye for a short time, without saying where I am going, for that would spoil the whole thing. Ben says I shall like the life on board the lugger; so I shall, though I would not have gone if there had not been this good reason. I cannot fancy that either father or mother will be really sorry when they find that I am safe out of the way.” So said Dick to himself, and having come to this resolution, he at length fell asleep.It was not a wise one, for it was like falling out of the frying-pan into the fire. There was a very remote risk of his being summoned before the magistrates, and if summoned, of his being committed for trial, whereas, in addition to the dangers of the sea, if captured on board the lugger, he would to a certainty be condemned as a smuggler and be sent to jail, if even worse did not come of it. For a lad to be sent to jail in those days was a fearful punishment, for there was no separation of prisoners, and should Dick go there he would be herded with ruffians of every description, and could scarcely fail to come out again without being very much the worse for his incarceration. Just then, however, he only thought how he could best keep out of the way of Mr Gooch, and thus prevent him from inducing his father to yield up his rights, which he might do, notwithstanding his resolutions to the contrary, should he be thus able to save his son from punishment.Dick awoke just as the light of the early dawn made its way into the room. The storm had ceased, and the clouds were fast disappearing, giving promises of a fine day. He had been a good penman at school, so that he had no difficulty in writing his letter. He had bade an affectionate good night to them all, and he would not run the risk of being hindered in his project by remaining for breakfast. His letter was brief.“Dear father,” it ran, “don’t give up the farm. I shall be all safe, though I don’t want you or any one else to find me until the matter is settled, but I have made up my mind that they shall not make a cat’s paw of me. Love to mother and Janet. So no more from your affectionate son, Dick.”Leaving the letter on the table, with a bundle of clothes and a few other articles in his hand, he slipped silently downstairs, thankful to find that his father was not yet stirring. Filling his pocket with some bread and cheese from the larder, he hurried out by the back door, which was not likely to be opened for some time, and made his way by by-paths in the direction of Keyhaven. He felt, it must be confessed, somewhat like a culprit escaping from justice. Every now and then he looked back to ascertain if he was followed; then again he ran on. He wished, if possible, to avoid meeting any one who might question him as to where he was bound at that early hour. The labourers would be going to work, but a considerable portion of the country through which he passed was still uncultivated. Twice when he saw people coming, he turned aside and hid himself behind a hedge until the men had passed. He thus reached Ben Rudall’s cottage, without, as he supposed, being seen by any one who knew him. Ben was not at home; but Susan asked him to come in and sit down.“He has been out nearly all night, Master Richard, but I am hoping to see him back safe every minute,” she said. “He got notice that theNancywas standing in for the coast, and went out to lend a helping hand. I don’t mind telling you, as I know that you are not one of those who side with the revenue people, or would go and give information—”“Which would injure any of my friends,” put in Dick. “No, indeed, I would not. To say the truth, your husband promised me a trip on board theNancy, which I have come to accept.”“He’ll be main glad, for he has agreed to go himself the next trip, and he told me that he thought the lugger would be away again to-night or to-morrow at furthest. She’s not likely to be long away, though, and I don’t mind his going as much as I used to do. Sometimes he has been from home for six weeks or two months at a time, either looking out for a cargo or waiting for a good chance to run across and land one on the English coast.” Mrs Rudall did not hesitate to describe the doings of the smugglers to Dick, though she would have been wonderfully reticent to a stranger; yet she showed her anxiety by frequently going to the door and looking round the corner in the direction she expected her husband to appear. “Here he comes! here he comes!” she cried at length, and Ben, with a sou’wester on his head, a thick flushing coat on his back, and his legs encased in high boots, made his appearance.“All right, Susan!” he said, as he reached the cottage. “We’ve done the job neatly, and the goods are twenty miles inland by this time. We’d a famous night for it, couldn’t have had a better, got the revenue men away on the wrong scent, and had the coast clear long enough to land a dozen cargoes. If we get such another night for the next run, we shall do well.”“I am thankful,” said poor Susan, who thought more of her husband’s safety than probably of his share of the profits. “Now, come in; here’s a visitor you’ll be glad to see.”Ben put out his hand and shook Dick’s, but before asking questions he kissed his children, who came jumping up round him.“Now, let’s have breakfast, for I am main hungry, and I dare say our friend here is,” he exclaimed. “Have you taken my advice, and made up your mind for a trip on board theNancy?” he asked, turning to Dick.Dick replied in the affirmative, and described the visit Mr Gooch had paid them the previous evening.“The sooner you get on board and out of his way the better, for they’ll not think of looking for you there, and before to-morrow morning theNancywill be away again across the Channel,” said Ben. Breakfast was just over, and Ben was smoking his pipe in front of his cottage door, when, looking to the southward, he exclaimed, “There she comes; she is a beauty!” and he pointed to a fine lugger, which, under all sail, having rounded Hurst Point, was standing towards Yarmouth.Ben having put up a few articles, led the way down to his boat, accompanied by Dick, and followed by his elder children, one carrying a boat-hook, another the oars, while he himself bore the boat’s mast and sails on his broad shoulders. The children stood on the beach, watching them as they pulled away. The breeze being favourable, Ben soon stepped the mast and hoisted the sail, when he came aft with the mainsheet, and told Dick to steer.“You should never lose the chance of learning to be handy in a boat,” he observed; “you don’t know when it may come in useful. You are very well as it is, but you are not like one born to it. Howsumdever, you’ll pick up something on board theNancy, and we shall have you turning out a prime seaman one of these days.”Dick really steered very well, and Ben every now and then gave him an approving nod. Being perfectly familiar with the surrounding scenery, he scarcely noticed it, occupied as his thoughts were just then by the position in which he was placed. Away to the right were the white Needle rocks, their pointed heads standing high up out of the sea, with chalky cliffs rising high above them; wide, smooth downs extending eastward; below which were cliffs of varied colour, with a succession of bays and rocky reefs; while ahead were the picturesque heights of Freshwater, covered by green trees, amid which several villas and cottages peeped out. Further east still, appeared the little seaport town of Yarmouth, with its old grey castle and grey stone houses, their gardens extending down to the water; on the starboard quarter was Hurst beach, with its massive round castle and tall, red lighthouse; while to the northward, extended a wood-covered shore, on which could be distinguished numerous residences, some of considerable size, and the town of Lymington running up the side of a steep hill.Ben was proud of his boat, though to the outward eye there was nothing to admire, as the paint with which she had once been bedecked had been worn off, her sails were patched, and her rigging knotted in several places.“I look at what she can do!” he observed; “and a better sea-boat or a faster is not to be found between Hurst and Spithead. It must blow a precious hard gale before I should be afraid to be out in her night or day.”That she was fast was proved by the speed with which she ran across the Channel. In a short time she was alongside the lugger, which had brought up close in shore, her crew evidently fearless of the revenue men, two or three of whom stood watching her.All on board knew Ben, and gave him a hearty welcome. “I have brought a fresh hand, Jack!” he said, addressing the skipper in a familiar tone. “I have long promised him a trip, and as it happens, it is as well that he should keep out of the way of the big-wigs over there.” Ben then briefly explained the danger Dick was in for threatening to shoot the son of the Marquis of Elverston.This announcement gained him a warm reception from the smugglers, who, engaged in lawless pursuits themselves, were naturally inclined to approve of such an act, and would possibly have looked upon him with still greater respect had he fired as he had threatened.“Glad to see you, my lad,” said John Dore, putting out his hand. “Make yourself at home on board theNancy. We’ll give you work when work has to be done, and now, if you’re tired, you can turn into my berth and go to sleep till the evening, when, unless the wind shifts round to the southward, we shall be at sea again.”“The best thing you can do,” observed Ben. “I must go to Keyhaven to get a hand to take my boat back and look after her while I am away.”Dick, wishing to escape the notice of any one who might visit the lugger from the shore, accepted the skipper’s offer. As he had closed his eyes but a very short time during the previous night, he was soon fast asleep.
Dick Hargrave kept to his resolution of trying to avoid meeting with Lord Reginald. Should he do so it would not be his fault, and should he fall in with him, he would endeavour to retain his temper, should his lordship speak to him in his former style. He likewise refrained from going to Keyhaven, or any other place where he was likely to meet any of his associates engaged in smuggling, although it was difficult to say who was not, more or less, implicated in the lawless proceedings so general at that time along the south coast. He assisted his father on the farm, and occasionally took Janet out for a short walk, as, notwithstanding the doctor’s expectations, she was able to get up again the very day after she had appeared to be so ill.
She declared that it was owing to the nice fish Dick had brought her. Again, however, she was confined to her room. As she could not take out Faithful, she begged that Dick would give him a run. “The poor dog sits so quietly at my feet all day, and if he sees me moving, I hear his tail thumping on the floor, and he begins to scamper about, fancying I am going to take him out. It is very dull for him, poor dog, and he deserves some amusement,” she said.
Dick promised to follow her wishes, and the next morning, saying that he would try to shoot a rabbit, and summoning Faithful, who bounded after him, he set off with his gun in his hand. With the assistance of the dog, he soon shot a couple of rabbits, with which he was about to return home. Faithful, however, highly delighted at finding himself abroad, went ranging wildly over the fields. Dick called to him, but the dog was too eager in the chase or too far off to hear his voice, and did not, as usual, return. Some minutes passed, when Dick heard a shot coming from the direction in which Faithful had disappeared. He hurried on, fearing that one of the keepers had caught sight of him; but then they all knew Janet’s dog, and the most surly would not have had the heart to fire at the honest brute, even though he might have been infringing the game laws by scampering for amusement after a hare or rabbit. Dick looked out anxiously, hoping to see the dog return; but though he shouted, “Faithful! Faithful!” and whistled shrilly, the animal did not make its appearance. Wondering what could have become of it, he went on calling its name. At last he saw it crawling towards him, dragging its limbs along in evident pain. At length the poor dog, unable to get further, sank to the ground. Dick, darting forward to where it lay, stooped down to ascertain how it was hurt. Its lacerated side, which bled profusely, showed that it had been shot.
“What villain has dared to hurt you, my poor Faithful?” exclaimed Dick.
The dog’s only reply, true to its name, was to lick his hand and endeavour to rise, but again it fell back, and after a few convulsive struggles, expired.
“Poor, poor Faithful! Janet will miss you, that she will! She will never find so trusty an animal to lead her about; but I’ll be revenged on the fellow, whoever he is. He ought to have known that you never poached, though you did love to run after a hare, for the fun of the thing. If I can meet the savage brute I’ll shoot him, as sure as my name is Richard Hargrave.”
“What’s that you say, you young ruffian?” exclaimed a voice near him.
Dick had not observed three persons who had approached. Looking up, he saw Lord Reginald and his brother midshipman, attended by a keeper.
“I do say that the heartless fellow who shot this dog deserves to be shot himself,” exclaimed Dick, looking boldly up.
“I shot the dog; it deserved to be killed for chasing hares on my father’s property,” answered the young lord. “You yourself must have set him on to drive the hares towards you. You are a poacher; we must have you up before the magistrates and punish you accordingly.”
“I did not set him on,” answered Dick, rising to his feet, “and I had no intention of killing any hares on the Elverston property. These rabbits I shot on my father’s farm, and I had a perfect right to kill them. The dog belongs to my blind sister. As she is ill, I took the poor brute out for a run.”
“A very likely story!” exclaimed Lord Reginald. “You have a gun in your hand and rabbits over your shoulder, and you had sent your dog scampering over the fields in search of more. I know your name, and shall report you to my father, so you may expect to take up your quarters in prison before many days are over.”
“The lad speaks the truth, my lord, about the dog,” observed the keeper, who had stepped forward and examined poor Faithful. “I have seen it many a time leading Farmer Hargrave’s blind daughter about, though whether he shot the rabbits on his father’s farm or not is another matter. We have never found him poaching before, so that part of the story may be true also.”
“I am sorry to have shot the dog, if it was useful to his blind sister,” said Lord Reginald; “and, I say, Jackson, I wish you’d look out for another to give the poor girl, instead of this one; she’ll not find out the difference.”
“I wouldn’t let her receive it if you should give her one!” exclaimed Dick, his anger in no way pacified by the young lord’s expressions of regret. “No dog could be found to equal Faithful; but I myself will look after a dog to take its place.”
“Really, my dear Oswald, I cannot stand by to see you thus insulted by this ungrateful young ruffian,” said Voules. “He has threatened to shoot you, and he looks like a fellow capable of doing what he says. The sooner he is taken up and sent to prison the better.”
“I have not been poaching! If you lay hands on me it will be the worse for you,” said Dick, grasping his gun.
“Come, come, Master Dick, do you go to your home, and do not be so foolish as to threaten mischief. It is dangerous to use such words, and you’ll be sorry for them by-and-by,” said the keeper, wisely interposing between the exasperated young men. “I know where to find you if you are wanted; but I don’t suppose the marquis will be hard upon you, when he hears how it was your sister’s dog was shot. If, my lord, you’ll please to let the lad go, I’ll undertake that he shall not come into the park again. His father is not the man to allow him to do anything against the law.”
Lord Reginald, who really much regretted having shot the dog, willingly listened to the keeper’s advice, and Voules, who had no object to gain in irritating him further against Dick Hargrave, said no more on the subject.
“Well, Hargrave, I will try to forget your threats, and I again assure you that had I known the dog was your sister’s, I would not have shot it,” said Lord Reginald, turning aside; and without waiting for an answer he led the way, followed by Voules and the keeper, in the direction of the hall, leaving Dick still standing by the side of his dog.
“I do not trust his fair words,” said Dick, looking after the party; “but I am obliged to Jackson for speaking a word in my favour, for if it had not been for him, matters would have become worse. Poor Faithful! I don’t know how I shall ever have the heart to tell Janet what has happened,” and stooping down he again examined the dog, to assure himself that it was really dead. Of this he was soon convinced. “I’ll not let you lie here, my poor dog!” he exclaimed, and taking it up in his arms, he walked away with it towards his home. He was crossing the road from Keyhaven, when a voice hailed him, and looking round he saw Ben Rudall approaching.
“What hast thou got there, Dick?” asked Ben. “Your sister’s dog—and killed, too! How did that happen?”
Dick told him, describing what had occurred.
“And thee wouldst trust the chaps, would thee?” said Ben, speaking in the Hampshire dialect. “No, no; don’t be doin’ that. Measter Jackson may have spoken fair enough, but he knows that he’s got his thumb on thee, an’ can come down on thee when he loiks. Now, just listen to what I have got to say. I was going to look for thee. TheNancyis expected in before many days are over, an’ she’ll be sailing again the next morning. If thee’ll come down to Keyhaven, there’ll be a good chance of taking a trip, an’ ’twill be safer for thee to be out of the way in case the young lord should change his mind an’ have thee up for poachin’. When the marquis hears of it, it’s my belief that he won’t let thee off, for he’s wonderfully strict about the matter, and if he had his will he’d be sending half the people hereabouts to prison.”
Dick had not forgotten his mother’s advice to keep clear of Ben Rudall, and he knew well enough that even though he should only go as a passenger, he would be committed to whatever was done by her crew.
“You mean kindly, Ben, I know,” he said; “but I cannot leave Janet, she’s so ill; and if she gets better, there’ll be no one except mother and me to walk out with her, now poor Faithful’s gone; but if I hear there’s a chance of my being had up for poaching, maybe it’s the best thing I can do.”
Ben laughed scornfully. “They’ll not let thee know what they intend to do; but thee would find thyself carried off to Winchester jail some fine morning, so just don’t be a fool, Dick, an’ come along with me.”
Dick, however, was firm in his resolution not to go off without seeing his mother and sister, and Ben was obliged to be content with his promise that he would come down to Keyhaven to talk the matter over. He would have been wiser had he not given that promise.
Ben returned the way he had come, and Dick, carrying the body of his dog, continued on towards his home.
On reaching the cottage, he carried the dog to a corner of the garden, while he went in for a spade to dig its grave. While he was searching for one in the outhouse, his mother saw him.
“What has happened, Dick?” she exclaimed, observing the blood on his clothes.
He at once narrated what had occurred, for although he had many faults, he was truthful to her.
“I am very sorry for what has happened. Poor dear Janet will almost break her heart. She said that she should like to take a stroll to-morrow with Faithful, if you were not able to accompany her. However, we must bear with it. From what you say, the young lord would not have shot the dog if he had known whose it was, and if he gives Janet another, she may become as fond of it as she was of Faithful.”
“I should not like her to become fond of Lord Reginald’s dog,” answered Dick. “If he sends one, I shall have a mind to shoot it, or send it back to him with a kettle tied to its tail.”
“That would not be a right thing to do,” observed Mrs Hargrave. “We should not harbour ill feelings towards others, though they have done us wrong. Come in now, and let me wash the blood off your coat. It looks bad, and if your father were to return, it would frighten him, as it did me. We’ll just break the news gently to Janet, and don’t say you won’t receive another dog if the young lord sends one. Remember how kind his mother and sisters are, and I dare say he is not so bad at heart, though he has more than once fallen out with you.”
“He has an abusive tongue in his head, and that shows what sort of heart he has got,” answered Dick, not inclined to agree with his mother about Lord Reginald. “You tell me the ladies speak so sweetly, but, as Ben Rudall says, that’s all outside show, and I would not trust them.”
“That’s because you have never been at home when they have called, or you would have agreed with me, if you had,” observed Mrs Hargrave. “Stay here while I get a sponge and some hot water; I can’t let you go about as you are; I cannot tell what people would say. If you were seen, there would be all sorts of tales about you.”
“I don’t care what is said, and I should just like them to know that Lord Reginald is a brute. That’s what I call him.”
“Hush! hush, Dick!” said his mother. “Sit you down here, until I have taken off those blood stains, for although poor Janet cannot see them, some one else may come in, and ask what has happened.”
Dick seated himself on a bench to which his mother pointed, and she quickly returned with soap and water. It was no easy operation, however, to get rid of the stains, and Dick declared that before he came in he must bury the dog. To this Mrs Hargrave consented, as she thought it would be a good opportunity to tell Janet of the loss of her favourite.
Dick, taking up the spade, and having selected a spot for Faithful’s grave, began digging away. More than once he stopped and gazed at the animal, feeling unwilling to put it so soon out of sight; then he went on more energetically than before. Having just completed his task, he leaned on his spade, while the tears rolled down his cheeks, as he thought he should never see his dog again. The wind had begun to blow strong, and dark clouds were gathering in the sky. The gloomy aspect of Nature suited his feelings. On looking up, he saw his mother and Janet approaching.
“Mother has told me, Dick, what has happened,” said his sister, as she came up. “I want to stroke Faithful’s head once more before you put him into his grave.” She stooped down by the side of the dog. “Oh! He doesn’t feel my hand now,” she said. “I am very sorry; but, Dick, I want you to promise me not to nourish anger against the young lord. He would not have fired had he known the dog was so useful to me. He told you as much. If I forgive him, you must.”
“I may forgive, but I do not forget,” said Dick. “If he keeps to his word, I’ll believe that he did not intend to do the cruel act. However, we must put poor Faithful in his grave, and if I do not make a vow to be revenged on Lord Reginald, it is because you are here to prevent me, Janet.”
“I would that you had a higher motive than that,” said Mrs Hargrave. “Now, Janet, you must return to the house; I promised you’d stop but one minute; Dick will soon have finished his task, and then he’ll come in to supper. Father will soon be home, Dick, so don’t delay.”
Dick, having at length brought himself to place the dog in its grave, hastily shovelled in the earth, muttering as he did so, “He’d better not cross me again; if he does he’ll have to repent it. Lie there, poor dog!” he added, as he finished the work. “I’ve a mind to put up a tombstone, and write on it, ‘Wantonly killed by Lord Reginald Oswald.’”
On entering the cottage, he found that his father, having come in, had heard what had happened. He was thankful at all events that he had not had to break the news to Janet. Farmer Hargrave said what he thought would pacify his son, and declared his belief that the young lord had not killed the dog with any malicious intent.
Dick pressed his lips together and made no reply. He could not trust himself. They were just finishing supper when a knock was heard at the door, and Dick, opening it, Mr Gooch the bailiff entered.
“Good evening, farmer; good evening, dame; somewhat stormy weather,” he said, throwing back his wet coat, and placing his dripping hat on the floor, as he took the seat offered him. “I didn’t think it was coming on to be so bad, until just before sunset. It blows hard enough now, and the rain is coming down in torrents, but I wanted to talk over that affair between us, so I came out in spite of the weather.”
“What have you got to say, Mr Gooch?” asked the farmer. “You know as well as I do that I have no wish to leave this farm. It will be a heavy loss to me to give it up, and I am determined to abide by my rights.”
“Very good, Mr Hargrave, very good,” said the bailiff, in a bland tone. “His lordship doesn’t want to be hard upon you, and if you have the right to remain, he would be the last man to ask you to turn out, but as I before told you, you have not the right, and if you go to law you’ll be worsted. Now, a little piece of information has come to my knowledge which may make you see that it would not be wise to go to law, even supposing there was a chance of your winning. I have not communicated with my lord on the subject, so I act on my own responsibility. This lad here, your son, has put himself in an awkward position. He has been poaching—not for the first time, either. I have just heard all about it from Jackson, the keeper, and from a young gentleman who is staying at the hall. They can give evidence, not only that he was poaching, but that he threatened the life of Lord Reginald Oswald—a very serious business, let me tell you. Had he fired, as he threatened to do, he would have been hung to a certainty, and as it is, I see every probability that he will be sentenced to seven years’ penal servitude. Now, of course, his lordship has it in his power to overlook the offence, and if I can tell him that you will yield to his wishes and consent to give up the farm, I am pretty sure that you will hear no more about the matter, only you must restrain your son from poaching in future, or from associating with smugglers, as I have evidence that he is in the habit of doing.”
The farmer listened to all the bailiff said, while Dick sat clenching his hands, with his eyes to the ground, every now and then giving a look at his mother.
Ben was right, then, in warning him. Had he accompanied the old smuggler at once, and got out of the way, Mr Gooch would not have been able to obtain the upper hand of his father.
When the bailiff had finished, Mr Hargrave replied, “I have before given you my answer. I believe the marquis to be a just man. If he finds I have the right to continue in the farm, he would not wish to dispossess me. In regard to Dick, the provocation he received by having his dog killed would excuse any thoughtless words he might have uttered. So I cannot offer to give up my rights for fear of the consequences, and I will never believe that Lord Elverston would act as you suggest.”
“Then you dare to say that you doubt my word, Farmer Hargrave?” exclaimed the bailiff, in a tone of indignation, rising from his seat. “I’ll give you until to-morrow to think over the matter; but you’ll take the consequences if you have the same answer ready for me. And dame, I would advise you to persuade your husband to act as I recommend, or, whether you go out of the farm or not, that lad of yours, before many days are over, will be lodged in Winchester jail, and be sent to Botany Bay, if he doesn’t get the chance of entering on board a king’s ship. Perhaps they won’t give him his choice, for threatening to shoot a lord is a serious matter.”
“Oh, Mr Gooch, you would not be so cruel as to wish to send our Dick to prison!” exclaimed Janet, who had been listening to what was said.
“All your father has to do is to agree to what I propose, and he is safe enough,” answered the bailiff. “I can stay no longer. I called in to give some friendly advice. If not taken, it is not my fault; so good night to all. I hope that you’ll settle the matter between you!”
Mr Gooch got up to go. Dick opened the door, having no wish to detain him. Looking out, he saw that the account given of the weather was not exaggerated.
“Is is plaguey dark, Mr Gooch!” he observed. “You’d better take a lantern, sir.”
“No, no; I know my way as well in the dark as in the daylight,” was the reply, and Mr Gooch stepping out, was soon lost to sight.
No sooner was the door closed than Dick exclaimed, “Don’t give in, father. I’d sooner go to prison, or Botany Bay, or be sent to sea, or be hung, for that matter, rather than that you should yield up your rights and be turned out of this farm.”
“I will not give up the farm if I have a right to keep it, but if the law is against me, go I must; still, I would not have you suffer, Dick, unless you deserve it, and if it is proved that you were poaching, and that you threatened to shoot the young lord, you must, as the bailiff says, take the consequences, though it would well-nigh break my heart to see you punished. But I have not much fear on the score either way. It is my belief that the marquis does not know much about the matter of the farm, and from beginning to end it is all the doing of Mr Gooch. What he cares for is to please his master, and as he knows that his lordship has a fancy for extending the park, he wants to get me to turn out, and now that he thinks he has got hold of you, he fancies that he can frighten me to do so. In regard to your affair, Dick, when the marquis hears of the provocation you received, I don’t think he will be hard upon you.”
The farmer made these remarks to tranquillise as far as he could the mind of his wife. Perhaps he did not feel so confident himself. So Dick at all events thought. The family soon afterwards separated for the night.
Dick went to his room, but could not sleep. The storm itself, though it whistled and howled around the cottage, would not have kept him awake. He thought over all that had happened, what he himself had said, and how Lord Reginald had looked and replied. “Whatever the gamekeeper may say, that other young fellow is against me, and if they take me before the magistrate, Mr Jackson will be upon his oath, and compelled to corroborate the midshipman’s statement. It all depends on what they choose to do. There is no doubt I did threaten to shoot Lord Reginald, and I felt wonderfully inclined to do it, too. There’s only one way I can see to get out of it and save father, and that is to take advantage of Ben Rudall’s offer and to keep out of the way until the affair is blown over; I won’t tell father or mother or they may be wishing to stop me; but I’ll write a letter just to wish them and Janet good-bye for a short time, without saying where I am going, for that would spoil the whole thing. Ben says I shall like the life on board the lugger; so I shall, though I would not have gone if there had not been this good reason. I cannot fancy that either father or mother will be really sorry when they find that I am safe out of the way.” So said Dick to himself, and having come to this resolution, he at length fell asleep.
It was not a wise one, for it was like falling out of the frying-pan into the fire. There was a very remote risk of his being summoned before the magistrates, and if summoned, of his being committed for trial, whereas, in addition to the dangers of the sea, if captured on board the lugger, he would to a certainty be condemned as a smuggler and be sent to jail, if even worse did not come of it. For a lad to be sent to jail in those days was a fearful punishment, for there was no separation of prisoners, and should Dick go there he would be herded with ruffians of every description, and could scarcely fail to come out again without being very much the worse for his incarceration. Just then, however, he only thought how he could best keep out of the way of Mr Gooch, and thus prevent him from inducing his father to yield up his rights, which he might do, notwithstanding his resolutions to the contrary, should he be thus able to save his son from punishment.
Dick awoke just as the light of the early dawn made its way into the room. The storm had ceased, and the clouds were fast disappearing, giving promises of a fine day. He had been a good penman at school, so that he had no difficulty in writing his letter. He had bade an affectionate good night to them all, and he would not run the risk of being hindered in his project by remaining for breakfast. His letter was brief.
“Dear father,” it ran, “don’t give up the farm. I shall be all safe, though I don’t want you or any one else to find me until the matter is settled, but I have made up my mind that they shall not make a cat’s paw of me. Love to mother and Janet. So no more from your affectionate son, Dick.”
Leaving the letter on the table, with a bundle of clothes and a few other articles in his hand, he slipped silently downstairs, thankful to find that his father was not yet stirring. Filling his pocket with some bread and cheese from the larder, he hurried out by the back door, which was not likely to be opened for some time, and made his way by by-paths in the direction of Keyhaven. He felt, it must be confessed, somewhat like a culprit escaping from justice. Every now and then he looked back to ascertain if he was followed; then again he ran on. He wished, if possible, to avoid meeting any one who might question him as to where he was bound at that early hour. The labourers would be going to work, but a considerable portion of the country through which he passed was still uncultivated. Twice when he saw people coming, he turned aside and hid himself behind a hedge until the men had passed. He thus reached Ben Rudall’s cottage, without, as he supposed, being seen by any one who knew him. Ben was not at home; but Susan asked him to come in and sit down.
“He has been out nearly all night, Master Richard, but I am hoping to see him back safe every minute,” she said. “He got notice that theNancywas standing in for the coast, and went out to lend a helping hand. I don’t mind telling you, as I know that you are not one of those who side with the revenue people, or would go and give information—”
“Which would injure any of my friends,” put in Dick. “No, indeed, I would not. To say the truth, your husband promised me a trip on board theNancy, which I have come to accept.”
“He’ll be main glad, for he has agreed to go himself the next trip, and he told me that he thought the lugger would be away again to-night or to-morrow at furthest. She’s not likely to be long away, though, and I don’t mind his going as much as I used to do. Sometimes he has been from home for six weeks or two months at a time, either looking out for a cargo or waiting for a good chance to run across and land one on the English coast.” Mrs Rudall did not hesitate to describe the doings of the smugglers to Dick, though she would have been wonderfully reticent to a stranger; yet she showed her anxiety by frequently going to the door and looking round the corner in the direction she expected her husband to appear. “Here he comes! here he comes!” she cried at length, and Ben, with a sou’wester on his head, a thick flushing coat on his back, and his legs encased in high boots, made his appearance.
“All right, Susan!” he said, as he reached the cottage. “We’ve done the job neatly, and the goods are twenty miles inland by this time. We’d a famous night for it, couldn’t have had a better, got the revenue men away on the wrong scent, and had the coast clear long enough to land a dozen cargoes. If we get such another night for the next run, we shall do well.”
“I am thankful,” said poor Susan, who thought more of her husband’s safety than probably of his share of the profits. “Now, come in; here’s a visitor you’ll be glad to see.”
Ben put out his hand and shook Dick’s, but before asking questions he kissed his children, who came jumping up round him.
“Now, let’s have breakfast, for I am main hungry, and I dare say our friend here is,” he exclaimed. “Have you taken my advice, and made up your mind for a trip on board theNancy?” he asked, turning to Dick.
Dick replied in the affirmative, and described the visit Mr Gooch had paid them the previous evening.
“The sooner you get on board and out of his way the better, for they’ll not think of looking for you there, and before to-morrow morning theNancywill be away again across the Channel,” said Ben. Breakfast was just over, and Ben was smoking his pipe in front of his cottage door, when, looking to the southward, he exclaimed, “There she comes; she is a beauty!” and he pointed to a fine lugger, which, under all sail, having rounded Hurst Point, was standing towards Yarmouth.
Ben having put up a few articles, led the way down to his boat, accompanied by Dick, and followed by his elder children, one carrying a boat-hook, another the oars, while he himself bore the boat’s mast and sails on his broad shoulders. The children stood on the beach, watching them as they pulled away. The breeze being favourable, Ben soon stepped the mast and hoisted the sail, when he came aft with the mainsheet, and told Dick to steer.
“You should never lose the chance of learning to be handy in a boat,” he observed; “you don’t know when it may come in useful. You are very well as it is, but you are not like one born to it. Howsumdever, you’ll pick up something on board theNancy, and we shall have you turning out a prime seaman one of these days.”
Dick really steered very well, and Ben every now and then gave him an approving nod. Being perfectly familiar with the surrounding scenery, he scarcely noticed it, occupied as his thoughts were just then by the position in which he was placed. Away to the right were the white Needle rocks, their pointed heads standing high up out of the sea, with chalky cliffs rising high above them; wide, smooth downs extending eastward; below which were cliffs of varied colour, with a succession of bays and rocky reefs; while ahead were the picturesque heights of Freshwater, covered by green trees, amid which several villas and cottages peeped out. Further east still, appeared the little seaport town of Yarmouth, with its old grey castle and grey stone houses, their gardens extending down to the water; on the starboard quarter was Hurst beach, with its massive round castle and tall, red lighthouse; while to the northward, extended a wood-covered shore, on which could be distinguished numerous residences, some of considerable size, and the town of Lymington running up the side of a steep hill.
Ben was proud of his boat, though to the outward eye there was nothing to admire, as the paint with which she had once been bedecked had been worn off, her sails were patched, and her rigging knotted in several places.
“I look at what she can do!” he observed; “and a better sea-boat or a faster is not to be found between Hurst and Spithead. It must blow a precious hard gale before I should be afraid to be out in her night or day.”
That she was fast was proved by the speed with which she ran across the Channel. In a short time she was alongside the lugger, which had brought up close in shore, her crew evidently fearless of the revenue men, two or three of whom stood watching her.
All on board knew Ben, and gave him a hearty welcome. “I have brought a fresh hand, Jack!” he said, addressing the skipper in a familiar tone. “I have long promised him a trip, and as it happens, it is as well that he should keep out of the way of the big-wigs over there.” Ben then briefly explained the danger Dick was in for threatening to shoot the son of the Marquis of Elverston.
This announcement gained him a warm reception from the smugglers, who, engaged in lawless pursuits themselves, were naturally inclined to approve of such an act, and would possibly have looked upon him with still greater respect had he fired as he had threatened.
“Glad to see you, my lad,” said John Dore, putting out his hand. “Make yourself at home on board theNancy. We’ll give you work when work has to be done, and now, if you’re tired, you can turn into my berth and go to sleep till the evening, when, unless the wind shifts round to the southward, we shall be at sea again.”
“The best thing you can do,” observed Ben. “I must go to Keyhaven to get a hand to take my boat back and look after her while I am away.”
Dick, wishing to escape the notice of any one who might visit the lugger from the shore, accepted the skipper’s offer. As he had closed his eyes but a very short time during the previous night, he was soon fast asleep.
Chapter Four.Under way—Life on board the Nancy—Off the French coast—Shipping the contraband goods—Run for England—A strange sail—The chase—Escape of the lugger—Landing the cargo—Revenue officers—Coolness of Dore—“Yield, in the king’s name.”—A little too late—Dick questioned.When Dick awoke, he knew by the motion of the vessel and the sounds he heard that she was under way. TheNancywas a craft of nearly a hundred tons, decked all over, with three short, stout masts, the after one leaning over the taffrail, with a long out-rigger. On each of the masts a large lug was carried, and above them could be set flying topsails, and when before the wind studding-sails could be rigged out. She could also hoist an enormous squaresail. To set these sails, she carried a numerous crew of tried seamen; promptitude and decision being required in the dangerous work in which she was engaged. Her armament consisted of six short guns and a long nine-pounder, which could be trained either fore or aft, to bring to a merchantman endeavouring to escape, or to knock away the spars of an enemy chasing her. Besides these guns, she had an ample supply of cutlasses, pistols, and boarding-pikes, to enable her crew to repel an attack made by boats or from a hostile craft which might run alongside her. She was truly an Arab of the seas, with every man’s hand against her, and her hand against every man. The captain, by means best known to himself, had obtained a privateer’s licence, and in that character he appeared when in English waters, though her real employment was more than suspected by the revenue officers, who were on the look-out to catch her. In this they had invariably failed, owing to the vigilance of her crew, and to the exact information they received from their agents on shore. Dick, turning out of the skipper’s bunk, went on deck.He was greeted by Ben Rudall. “You are safe enough now, lad, from the constables who may be hunting for you through the country; and glad I am to have you on board theNancy. When we get back you must remain stowed away until we are at sea again, and in a short time they’ll get tired of looking for you.”“I hope they won’t revenge themselves on my father,” said Dick; “that’s what’s troubling me now!”“No fear of that, for he is not answerable for what you do, any more than you are for his acts, and as he doesn’t know where you are, he can’t tell them.”“I wish, however, that I could let mother and Janet know that I am all safe; they may be fretting for me,” said Dick.“Never you fear, they’ll guess that,” said Ben, trying to set Dick’s mind at ease on the subject. “It doesn’t do to think about home or anything of that sort when we are out on a cruise. Cheer up, lad! cheer up!”A fresh breeze was blowing from the north-west. The stars were shining brightly out of a clear sky, and the lugger, close hauled, was passing the Needle rocks, which could be dimly seen rising out of the dark water like huge giants on the lee beam, while astern were visible the lights on Hurst point now brought into one. The lugger having rounded the western end of the Isle of Wight, the helm was put up, the yards squared away, the flying topsails and big squaresail set, and she stood across Channel, bounding lightly over the dancing seas. A craft with a fast pair of heels alone could have caught her. Her hardy crew remained on deck, for all hands might at any moment have been required for an emergency, either to shorten sail, or to alter her course, should a suspicious vessel appear in sight. All night long the lugger kept on her course, steering westward of south.“I say, Ben, how do the Frenchmen treat us if we go on shore, seeing that we and they are fighting each other?” asked Dick.“Never you fear; we shan’t go on shore, except it may be at night, in company with friends. You will soon see how we manage things,” was the answer.The lugger made such good way, that when morning dawned, the coast of France was seen close aboard. No vessels of any description were in sight. As she got closer in, the French flag was hoisted, and other flags were got ready for making signals. Dick heard the skipper talking to three men whom he had not before observed, and whom he now discovered to be Frenchmen. He asked Ben who they were.“One of them is to act as captain, the other two as his mates. They will go on shore and arrange about getting our cargo shipped. They won’t take long, as it will be all ready. If we have another favourable night, we may run it, and it will be up in London before a week is over.”A bright look-out was kept in every direction. As no suspicious sail appeared, theNancystood on. The signal which she made was answered from the shore.“All right,” said Ben; “no fear of interruption for the present.”The topsails were lowered, and under the foresail and mizzen she glided on into a small harbour between rocks of sufficient height to hide her short masts from the view of any craft passing outside. The crew of theNancyappeared on deck, dressed as much as possible like French seamen, while they wisely kept their tongues quiet, so that their true character might not be suspected.The two Frenchmen went on shore, while the third remained on board to answer any questions which might be put to them. Dick observed that the lugger lay in such a position that she could easily slip out again, should danger threaten. The crew seemed perfectly at their ease, laughing and talking when below, as if their situation was one to which they were well accustomed.The day passed away; still no cargo was forthcoming, nor did the Frenchmen re-appear. This made Dick fear that the authorities might have discovered the true character of theNancy, and in spite of their precautions the smugglers might be taken in a trap. He did not, however, express his apprehensions, and neither Ben nor any of the men appeared troubled on the subject. At night the crew lay down on the deck with their pistols in their belts, and their cutlasses and boarding-pikes by their sides, each man at his station so that the cable might be cut and the sails hoisted at a moment’s notice. It showed Dick that his fears were not altogether without some foundation. Nothing, however, occurred during the night, and the following day passed away much as the first had done.Dore, however, grew impatient, and a boat was sent to watch outside the harbour in case any enemy might be stealing along the coast to prevent theNancy’sescape. At length, some time after it grew dark, a boat came off from the shore, bringing the two Frenchmen, who reported that the cargo was ready and would shortly be on board. All hands stood prepared for hoisting it in. Several boats were quickly alongside, and with wonderful rapidity bales of silks, laces, and ribbons, and kegs of spirits and tobacco were transferred to theNancy’shold. As soon as they were stowed away, the anchor was got up, and the boats going ahead towed her out of the harbour, the Frenchmen wishing her “Bon voyage,” and a speedy return.Dick breathed more freely when the sails were set, and theNancygliding swiftly over the smooth water, the dark outline of the French coast grew more and more indistinct. “How soon shall we get back to England?” he asked of Ben, by whose side he naturally kept when on deck.“That depends on what may happen,” answered Ben. “We shall have to wait for a dark night, and to take care that the coast is clear before we run in. It may be to-morrow, or it may be a week hence. We have done very well as yet, but there’s many a slip between tin cup and the lip, as I have found to my cost more than once.”Dick had to rest satisfied with this answer. There were plenty of people on board ready to talk to him, but their conversation was not of an improving character. Their chief delight seemed to be to abuse the royal navy as well as the revenue laws, and those engaged in preventing their infringement. Dick was not accustomed to look too deep into matters, and thought that what they said was very right. It did not occur to him that the same men would greatly have objected to free trade, which would completely have deprived them of their present illegal way of gaining a livelihood; and though there might have been some truth in what they said about the navy, they were wrong in the sweeping condemnation they pronounced against the service. There were some abuses still existing, but many had been removed; and there were not a few commanders of king’s ships who did their best to advance the welfare of their crews, and were at all times kind and considerate to those placed under them, as had been shown by numerous instances of devotion on the part of the men to their officers. The remarks of his associates, however, gave Dick an unmitigated horror of the navy, while he learned to look upon smugglers as a much-injured body of men, who were unjustly interfered with while engaged in endeavouring to gain their daily bread. At length, growing sleepy, he was glad to go below and lie down on one of the lockers in the little after cabin.Next morning the lugger lay becalmed. While the breeze lasted, the smugglers had been in good humour, but as the watch below turned out, they swore and grumbled at finding their craft lying idle on the smooth surface of the ocean. No sail was in sight, and as long as the calm continued they could not come to harm; but an enemy might bring down a breeze which would enable her to get close up to them before their sails were filled. This was what they dreaded. All their seamanship and courage would not avail if she was a vessel too powerful for them to cope with.Hour after hour passed away, and still theNancylay floating idly, and carried down Channel by the ebb tide, and swept up again by the flood. An anxious look-out was kept for signs of a coming breeze. Evening was approaching. From whatever quarter the wind might come, it might bring up an enemy. English or French were equally to be dreaded. The skipper paced the deck, making short turns, telescope in hand, every now and then sweeping the horizon with it, and casting an eye on the dog-vanes which hung unmoved by a breath of air. At last he kept his glass longer than usual turned to the eastward.“There’s no doubt about it!” he exclaimed. “Those are the royals of a big ship of some sort; she’s got a fresh breeze, too, or we shouldn’t have risen them so fast above the horizon.”Dick could only see a white spot on which the sun was shining, but it appeared to be increasing in size and growing higher and higher. The gaze of most of those on board were turned towards her. That she was either an English or a French cruiser was the general opinion. Some thought that she was a frigate, others a corvette; for no merchantman, at that period, would have come down Channel alone. One thing was certain, that she was steering directly for the lugger.“What chance have we of escaping her?” asked Dick of Ben.“Many a chance, lad,” answered his friend. “If she’s English she may not send a boat on board to examine us, and we shall pass for a privateer, or we may get the breeze in time to slip out of her way to the northward, or to keep ahead of her and give her the go-by during the night. If she’s French, we must put the Frenchman in command, show our French papers, and bamboozle the mounseers, or if the worst comes to the worst, tumble the crew of their boat overboard and try to get away.”“But suppose they fire into us?” said Dick, who though often thoughtless was alive to the true state of the case.“We must run the chance of that, my lad,” answered Ben, “though my idea is that yonder craft is an English corvette, and although she may be a pretty fast sailer, when once theNancygets the breeze, we shall show her a clean pair of heels.”Dick sincerely hoped that such would be the case. He had not reckoned on the chance of being captured as a smuggler, or made prisoner by the enemy, or shot by either the one or the other. The crew were at their stations, ready to trim sails the moment the slightest breath of air should reach them. The topsails had before been set. The squaresail and studding-sails were got up ready to hoist at an instant’s notice. Still the lugger lay motionless, and the corvette, for such she was pronounced to be, came rapidly on, under every stitch of canvas she could carry. She was soon within a mile of the lugger, when some cat’s paws were seen playing over the water; the dog-vanes blew out and then dropped, the canvas flapped lightly against the masts. The skipper swore, and the crew swore, until once more they saw the sails bulging out slightly.“Hurrah! here it comes at last! We’ll keep out of that fellow’s way,” cried Captain Dore, eyeing the stranger. The lugger began gathering way. “Port the helm, Tom. We’ll stand to the northward, and shall soon see whether he wishes to speak us. If he does, we’ll take leave to disappoint him.”The yards were braced up on the starboard tack, and the lugger stood on the course proposed, so that the corvette, should she continue on as she was now steering, would pass astern. Dore kept his eye fixed on her.“She’s a fancy to know more about us,” he remarked, as he observed the stranger also keeping up to the northward. “Her shot can’t reach us yet, and we shall soon see, now we have got the breeze, which is the faster craft of the two.”As Dick looked over the starboard quarter, he saw the sails and dark hull of the corvette, lighted up by the rays of the setting sun, making her appear so much nearer than she really was, that he wondered she did not fire a shot to make the lugger heave to. He had no cowardly fears on the subject, but he again thought that he should have acted more wisely had he stowed himself away safely on shore, instead of coming on board the lugger. The corvette looked so powerful, that it seemed to him that a single broadside from her guns, would send theNancywith all on board to the bottom. He observed, however, that Dore walked the deck with as calm an air as usual, all the time, however, narrowly eyeing the king’s ship, ready to take advantage of any change which might occur.“We shall have darkness down upon us soon, and then we will show yonder fellow a trick or two. He wants to jam us up against the English coast; but we are not to be so caught,” he observed to his mate, Ned Langdon.The breeze had freshened considerably, and was now blowing so strong, that the lugger could, on a wind, with difficulty carry her topsails, which were still set. The corvette had handed her royals, presently she took in her topgallant sails. She had lately been gaining on the lugger. Dick, with the rest of his companions, seldom had his eyes off her; the darkness was increasing, and her outline was becoming less and less distinct. Presently he saw a bright flash dart from her bows, and the roar of a gun reached his ears. The shot, however, had fallen short. The smugglers laughed.“You may blaze away, but you won’t do us much harm!” observed Dore.Another and another shot followed. The commander of the cruiser evidently wished to make the lugger heave to. If he had before had doubts of her character, he must now have been thoroughly satisfied as to what she was, and would become more eager to capture her.“Stand by, my lads, to make sail!” cried Dore. “Keep up the helm, Tom, and hoist away on the squaresail!”The lugger was put before the wind, running considerably faster than she had hitherto been doing through the water. The corvette must have observed her change of course, as she also kept away, and once more her topgallant sails were loosed. It was too dark to observe how the masts stood the pressure.“I only wish that they would set the royals; with this breeze there would be a good chance of the spars being carried away,” said Dore.It was very doubtful whether the corvette was gaining on the lugger. Though the advancing night gradually shrouded her more and more in gloom, she could still be discerned, her canvas rising up like a dark phantom stalking over the ocean. The crew of the lugger stood at their stations, ready at a moment to obey their captain’s orders. He kept his eye on the topsails, though if blown away the accident would not be of much consequence. The masts were tough, and bent like willow wands.“They’ll hold on as long as we want them now,” observed Dore. Again and again he looked astern. Presently he shouted, “Lower the topsails! Starboard the helm, Tom! Haul away at the starboard braces!” and the lugger, on the port tack, stood close hauled to the southward.The sharpest eyes on board were turned in the direction their pursuer was supposed to be. Some time passed away.“There she is!” cried Ben. “Although we see her, she doesn’t see us, as we are stern on, and much lower in the water than she is.”Dick looked with all his might. He could just discern some object moving along over the water, but so indistinctly that he could not be certain it was a ship. Still, the commander of the corvette might suspect that the lugger had changed her course, and changed his also.“All right!” cried Dore, after watching the phantom-like stranger in the distance, until she totally disappeared. “She’ll not catch us this cruise.”The lugger was put about, on the starboard tack, and once more stood towards the English coast.“Shall we be in to-morrow morning?” asked Dick.“No, no,” answered Ben. “Whatever happens, we shall make the coast at night, when the revenue men can’t see us. We have friends on the look-out, who will make signals to show us when and where to run in. The weather is too fine at present, so that we shall have to dodge about and wait for a dark night, with thick rain or fog; but we don’t much trust fogs, they may lift suddenly and show our whereabouts to those we do not want to see us. However, we must run some risks. We want to land our goods in quiet, but if any one interferes with us, we of course must fight to defend our property. All right and square, you will understand, but if there’s bloodshed, it is the fault of those who wish to take it from us.”Dick did not ask himself whether Ben was right or wrong. He forgot that one party were breaking the laws, the other performing their duty in protecting them.Next morning, when Dick came on deck, he found the lugger hove to, with the blue line of the English coast to the northward. Though the shore could be seen, the vessel herself was too far off to be discerned from thence. Most of the crew were below, but the watch on deck, vigilant as ever, were turning their eyes in every direction, so that, should a suspicious sail appear, they might at once shape a course which would enable them to avoid her. Dick, who had been accustomed to an active life, began to grow weary at having nothing to do. He walked the deck with his hands in his pockets, talking to the men, or he sat below listening to their yarns, which were generally not of a very edifying character.The greater number of the crew passed their time, either sleeping or playing at cards or dice. Sometimes, for a change they turned to and cleaned their muskets and pistols, or burnished up their cutlasses. It was a relief when a stranger appeared whom it was thought better to avoid. The lugger making sail stood to the southward. She returned to her former position, however, as soon as the suspicious craft had passed. This occurred twice during the day. At night she stood close in to the coast, to look out for signals, but none were seen, and before the morning she again took up her former position at a sufficient distance to be invisible from the shore.For several days the same sort of proceeding took place. Two or three times she made all sail, it being supposed that she was chased, and once she had a narrow escape from a French cruiser, who probably took her for an English privateer. The wind continued moderate, and the sky clear, and Dore began to swear and to wish for some real honest Channel weather. At last the wind shifted, first to the southward and afterwards to the south-west, from which direction a thick bank of mist was seen coming up, and the lugger, directly she was shrouded by it, made sail for the English coast. Although there was no fear of her being seen from any distance, she still ran the risk of falling into the lion’s jaws, to avoid which a sharp lookout was kept, and all hands stood ready to trim sails in case it should be necessary.The night was coming on, and it was soon dark enough to suit their requirements. She now frequently hove to, to sound as well as to watch for any signal from the shore. At length a light was seen, faint and dim through the mist, another was shown a short distance from it, and then a third appeared, when all three in an instant disappeared. The lugger stood on, sail was shortened, and the anchor dropped. Scarcely had she brought up when half a dozen boats dashed alongside.“Be smart, my lads!” cried Dore. “If we are quick about it, we may run the whole of the cargo before the revenue men are down upon us.”Not another word was spoken; every one knew exactly what he had to do. The lugger’s crew hoisted out the bales and kegs, and the men who had come off stowed them away in the boats. The lugger’s own boat was not idle. Having loaded her, Ben and Dick, with three other men, jumped in and pushed for the shore. The surf was pretty heavy, but without accident they reached the beach, where a large party of people were collected, with a number of pack horses and carts. The boats were at once surrounded, and their cargoes quickly taken out of them and placed either in the carts or on the backs of the horses. The work was carried on with the greatest rapidity, and by the time Dick and his companions had launched their boat, the whole had begun to move off, and before the lugger was reached, not a single person was to be seen on the beach.On their return to theNancy, the boat was hoisted in and preparations began for making sail. The operation required care, for should she cast the wrong way, she might drive on shore. The skipper himself took the helm. The hands went to their stations. The instant the anchor was away the sails were sheeted home, and the lugger, casting, as desired, to port, stood off from the dangerous coast, close-hauled. She had not got many cable lengths from the beach when two boats dashed alongside. A number of armed men sprang on board.“We’ve caught you, my fine fellows,” exclaimed an officer. “Yield, in the king’s name!”“Happy to see you, gentlemen,” answered Dore, with the greatest coolness. “You are welcome to look over our craft, and if you find anything contraband on board—for that I suppose is what you are after—we’ll yield fast enough.”The officer was evidently nonplussed, but he was still not inclined to take the smuggler’s word. He allowed the lugger, however, to stand further out, until she could heave to with safety, when he ordered the foresail to be backed. He, with several of his men, then went below, Dore ordering Dick and another lad to carry a couple of lanterns, that the officer might see his way. The search, as Dore well knew would be the case, revealed nothing on which the revenue could lay hands—not a bale nor keg of spirits, nor even a few pounds of tobacco.“Circumstances certainly were suspicious. You have cleaned her out completely,” said the officer, turning to Dick, and as he did so eyeing him narrowly. “Where was the cargo run?”Dick was very nearly replying, “Not long ago,” and thus confessing that the cargo had been run, but recollecting in time that the smugglers might object to such an answer, he said—“I am merely a passenger on board, sir, and it is not my business to answer questions.”“What’s your name, my lad?” asked the officer.Dick was on the point of replying, when Ben, who had heard the question, stepped up. “It is your business, Mr Lieutenant, to overhaul this craft and see that there are no smuggled goods on board, and when that business is over you have nothing more to do. That youngster’s name may be Jack Robinson, or it may be Tom Jones, but whatever it may be is no business of yours.”The officer put several questions to others of the crew, but neither from them nor from the captain could he elicit any of the information he required. They were perfectly civil to him, and offered not the slightest opposition to his going through every part of the vessel, and joked with the boats’ crews, several recognising old shipmates. They shook hands, patted each other on the back, and appeared on the most friendly terms. Yet the case would have been very different had theNancy’scargo been on board. There would then have been a death struggle, the one to defend, the other to take possession of the craft, and they would have fought until one or the other had been defeated.“Well, Captain Dore,” said the lieutenant, “you have been too smart for us this time, but we intend to catch you some day or other.”“Maybe theNancywill be sunk by an enemy’s cruiser before then. You seem to have an idea, lieutenant, that we are smugglers. I didn’t think fit to gainsay you before, but if you’ll step back into my cabin I’ll show you my privateer’s licence, which will prove to you that we are engaged lawfully, making war against the French trade,” answered Dore.“Well, well, whichever you are, I won’t longer detain you; but before I go I wish to have a word with the youngster I saw on board, the son of a respectable farmer living out Milford way.”“We detain no one on board against his will, except he has signed articles. If the lad is the person you suppose, and is willing to go, go he may, provided you can promise that no harm can come to him.”“I wish to prevent him getting into harm,” said the lieutenant, and he sent one of his men to find Dick, who was soon afterwards brought aft.Dick was in two minds about going. When the lieutenant told him of the anxiety of his father and mother, he was on the point of accepting the offer. Just at that moment Ben stepped up.“You’d better not,” he whispered, “for the officer may mean you well, but remember there are others who want to get you into their power, and you will repent it.”“Thank you, sir,” said Dick. “I have come on board this vessel of my own free will, and would rather stay where I am. If you will see father and mother, and tell them I am all right, I will be obliged to you.”“You see, sir, that the lad doesn’t want to go, and as you have found nothing on board to enable you to detain this vessel, I must beg you to let us make sail, for we are drifting in shore closer than is safe.”Again the lieutenant appealed to Dick. Dore, however, suspected that if the lieutenant got him into his power he might induce him to come forward to prove that theNancywas engaged in smuggling, and that he should then be deprived of his privateer’s licence, so, giving a hint to his men, they surrounded Dick and carried him forward.As the lieutenant had performed his duty, he ordered his men into the boats and they pulled away for the shore, while theNancystood out to sea.
When Dick awoke, he knew by the motion of the vessel and the sounds he heard that she was under way. TheNancywas a craft of nearly a hundred tons, decked all over, with three short, stout masts, the after one leaning over the taffrail, with a long out-rigger. On each of the masts a large lug was carried, and above them could be set flying topsails, and when before the wind studding-sails could be rigged out. She could also hoist an enormous squaresail. To set these sails, she carried a numerous crew of tried seamen; promptitude and decision being required in the dangerous work in which she was engaged. Her armament consisted of six short guns and a long nine-pounder, which could be trained either fore or aft, to bring to a merchantman endeavouring to escape, or to knock away the spars of an enemy chasing her. Besides these guns, she had an ample supply of cutlasses, pistols, and boarding-pikes, to enable her crew to repel an attack made by boats or from a hostile craft which might run alongside her. She was truly an Arab of the seas, with every man’s hand against her, and her hand against every man. The captain, by means best known to himself, had obtained a privateer’s licence, and in that character he appeared when in English waters, though her real employment was more than suspected by the revenue officers, who were on the look-out to catch her. In this they had invariably failed, owing to the vigilance of her crew, and to the exact information they received from their agents on shore. Dick, turning out of the skipper’s bunk, went on deck.
He was greeted by Ben Rudall. “You are safe enough now, lad, from the constables who may be hunting for you through the country; and glad I am to have you on board theNancy. When we get back you must remain stowed away until we are at sea again, and in a short time they’ll get tired of looking for you.”
“I hope they won’t revenge themselves on my father,” said Dick; “that’s what’s troubling me now!”
“No fear of that, for he is not answerable for what you do, any more than you are for his acts, and as he doesn’t know where you are, he can’t tell them.”
“I wish, however, that I could let mother and Janet know that I am all safe; they may be fretting for me,” said Dick.
“Never you fear, they’ll guess that,” said Ben, trying to set Dick’s mind at ease on the subject. “It doesn’t do to think about home or anything of that sort when we are out on a cruise. Cheer up, lad! cheer up!”
A fresh breeze was blowing from the north-west. The stars were shining brightly out of a clear sky, and the lugger, close hauled, was passing the Needle rocks, which could be dimly seen rising out of the dark water like huge giants on the lee beam, while astern were visible the lights on Hurst point now brought into one. The lugger having rounded the western end of the Isle of Wight, the helm was put up, the yards squared away, the flying topsails and big squaresail set, and she stood across Channel, bounding lightly over the dancing seas. A craft with a fast pair of heels alone could have caught her. Her hardy crew remained on deck, for all hands might at any moment have been required for an emergency, either to shorten sail, or to alter her course, should a suspicious vessel appear in sight. All night long the lugger kept on her course, steering westward of south.
“I say, Ben, how do the Frenchmen treat us if we go on shore, seeing that we and they are fighting each other?” asked Dick.
“Never you fear; we shan’t go on shore, except it may be at night, in company with friends. You will soon see how we manage things,” was the answer.
The lugger made such good way, that when morning dawned, the coast of France was seen close aboard. No vessels of any description were in sight. As she got closer in, the French flag was hoisted, and other flags were got ready for making signals. Dick heard the skipper talking to three men whom he had not before observed, and whom he now discovered to be Frenchmen. He asked Ben who they were.
“One of them is to act as captain, the other two as his mates. They will go on shore and arrange about getting our cargo shipped. They won’t take long, as it will be all ready. If we have another favourable night, we may run it, and it will be up in London before a week is over.”
A bright look-out was kept in every direction. As no suspicious sail appeared, theNancystood on. The signal which she made was answered from the shore.
“All right,” said Ben; “no fear of interruption for the present.”
The topsails were lowered, and under the foresail and mizzen she glided on into a small harbour between rocks of sufficient height to hide her short masts from the view of any craft passing outside. The crew of theNancyappeared on deck, dressed as much as possible like French seamen, while they wisely kept their tongues quiet, so that their true character might not be suspected.
The two Frenchmen went on shore, while the third remained on board to answer any questions which might be put to them. Dick observed that the lugger lay in such a position that she could easily slip out again, should danger threaten. The crew seemed perfectly at their ease, laughing and talking when below, as if their situation was one to which they were well accustomed.
The day passed away; still no cargo was forthcoming, nor did the Frenchmen re-appear. This made Dick fear that the authorities might have discovered the true character of theNancy, and in spite of their precautions the smugglers might be taken in a trap. He did not, however, express his apprehensions, and neither Ben nor any of the men appeared troubled on the subject. At night the crew lay down on the deck with their pistols in their belts, and their cutlasses and boarding-pikes by their sides, each man at his station so that the cable might be cut and the sails hoisted at a moment’s notice. It showed Dick that his fears were not altogether without some foundation. Nothing, however, occurred during the night, and the following day passed away much as the first had done.
Dore, however, grew impatient, and a boat was sent to watch outside the harbour in case any enemy might be stealing along the coast to prevent theNancy’sescape. At length, some time after it grew dark, a boat came off from the shore, bringing the two Frenchmen, who reported that the cargo was ready and would shortly be on board. All hands stood prepared for hoisting it in. Several boats were quickly alongside, and with wonderful rapidity bales of silks, laces, and ribbons, and kegs of spirits and tobacco were transferred to theNancy’shold. As soon as they were stowed away, the anchor was got up, and the boats going ahead towed her out of the harbour, the Frenchmen wishing her “Bon voyage,” and a speedy return.
Dick breathed more freely when the sails were set, and theNancygliding swiftly over the smooth water, the dark outline of the French coast grew more and more indistinct. “How soon shall we get back to England?” he asked of Ben, by whose side he naturally kept when on deck.
“That depends on what may happen,” answered Ben. “We shall have to wait for a dark night, and to take care that the coast is clear before we run in. It may be to-morrow, or it may be a week hence. We have done very well as yet, but there’s many a slip between tin cup and the lip, as I have found to my cost more than once.”
Dick had to rest satisfied with this answer. There were plenty of people on board ready to talk to him, but their conversation was not of an improving character. Their chief delight seemed to be to abuse the royal navy as well as the revenue laws, and those engaged in preventing their infringement. Dick was not accustomed to look too deep into matters, and thought that what they said was very right. It did not occur to him that the same men would greatly have objected to free trade, which would completely have deprived them of their present illegal way of gaining a livelihood; and though there might have been some truth in what they said about the navy, they were wrong in the sweeping condemnation they pronounced against the service. There were some abuses still existing, but many had been removed; and there were not a few commanders of king’s ships who did their best to advance the welfare of their crews, and were at all times kind and considerate to those placed under them, as had been shown by numerous instances of devotion on the part of the men to their officers. The remarks of his associates, however, gave Dick an unmitigated horror of the navy, while he learned to look upon smugglers as a much-injured body of men, who were unjustly interfered with while engaged in endeavouring to gain their daily bread. At length, growing sleepy, he was glad to go below and lie down on one of the lockers in the little after cabin.
Next morning the lugger lay becalmed. While the breeze lasted, the smugglers had been in good humour, but as the watch below turned out, they swore and grumbled at finding their craft lying idle on the smooth surface of the ocean. No sail was in sight, and as long as the calm continued they could not come to harm; but an enemy might bring down a breeze which would enable her to get close up to them before their sails were filled. This was what they dreaded. All their seamanship and courage would not avail if she was a vessel too powerful for them to cope with.
Hour after hour passed away, and still theNancylay floating idly, and carried down Channel by the ebb tide, and swept up again by the flood. An anxious look-out was kept for signs of a coming breeze. Evening was approaching. From whatever quarter the wind might come, it might bring up an enemy. English or French were equally to be dreaded. The skipper paced the deck, making short turns, telescope in hand, every now and then sweeping the horizon with it, and casting an eye on the dog-vanes which hung unmoved by a breath of air. At last he kept his glass longer than usual turned to the eastward.
“There’s no doubt about it!” he exclaimed. “Those are the royals of a big ship of some sort; she’s got a fresh breeze, too, or we shouldn’t have risen them so fast above the horizon.”
Dick could only see a white spot on which the sun was shining, but it appeared to be increasing in size and growing higher and higher. The gaze of most of those on board were turned towards her. That she was either an English or a French cruiser was the general opinion. Some thought that she was a frigate, others a corvette; for no merchantman, at that period, would have come down Channel alone. One thing was certain, that she was steering directly for the lugger.
“What chance have we of escaping her?” asked Dick of Ben.
“Many a chance, lad,” answered his friend. “If she’s English she may not send a boat on board to examine us, and we shall pass for a privateer, or we may get the breeze in time to slip out of her way to the northward, or to keep ahead of her and give her the go-by during the night. If she’s French, we must put the Frenchman in command, show our French papers, and bamboozle the mounseers, or if the worst comes to the worst, tumble the crew of their boat overboard and try to get away.”
“But suppose they fire into us?” said Dick, who though often thoughtless was alive to the true state of the case.
“We must run the chance of that, my lad,” answered Ben, “though my idea is that yonder craft is an English corvette, and although she may be a pretty fast sailer, when once theNancygets the breeze, we shall show her a clean pair of heels.”
Dick sincerely hoped that such would be the case. He had not reckoned on the chance of being captured as a smuggler, or made prisoner by the enemy, or shot by either the one or the other. The crew were at their stations, ready to trim sails the moment the slightest breath of air should reach them. The topsails had before been set. The squaresail and studding-sails were got up ready to hoist at an instant’s notice. Still the lugger lay motionless, and the corvette, for such she was pronounced to be, came rapidly on, under every stitch of canvas she could carry. She was soon within a mile of the lugger, when some cat’s paws were seen playing over the water; the dog-vanes blew out and then dropped, the canvas flapped lightly against the masts. The skipper swore, and the crew swore, until once more they saw the sails bulging out slightly.
“Hurrah! here it comes at last! We’ll keep out of that fellow’s way,” cried Captain Dore, eyeing the stranger. The lugger began gathering way. “Port the helm, Tom. We’ll stand to the northward, and shall soon see whether he wishes to speak us. If he does, we’ll take leave to disappoint him.”
The yards were braced up on the starboard tack, and the lugger stood on the course proposed, so that the corvette, should she continue on as she was now steering, would pass astern. Dore kept his eye fixed on her.
“She’s a fancy to know more about us,” he remarked, as he observed the stranger also keeping up to the northward. “Her shot can’t reach us yet, and we shall soon see, now we have got the breeze, which is the faster craft of the two.”
As Dick looked over the starboard quarter, he saw the sails and dark hull of the corvette, lighted up by the rays of the setting sun, making her appear so much nearer than she really was, that he wondered she did not fire a shot to make the lugger heave to. He had no cowardly fears on the subject, but he again thought that he should have acted more wisely had he stowed himself away safely on shore, instead of coming on board the lugger. The corvette looked so powerful, that it seemed to him that a single broadside from her guns, would send theNancywith all on board to the bottom. He observed, however, that Dore walked the deck with as calm an air as usual, all the time, however, narrowly eyeing the king’s ship, ready to take advantage of any change which might occur.
“We shall have darkness down upon us soon, and then we will show yonder fellow a trick or two. He wants to jam us up against the English coast; but we are not to be so caught,” he observed to his mate, Ned Langdon.
The breeze had freshened considerably, and was now blowing so strong, that the lugger could, on a wind, with difficulty carry her topsails, which were still set. The corvette had handed her royals, presently she took in her topgallant sails. She had lately been gaining on the lugger. Dick, with the rest of his companions, seldom had his eyes off her; the darkness was increasing, and her outline was becoming less and less distinct. Presently he saw a bright flash dart from her bows, and the roar of a gun reached his ears. The shot, however, had fallen short. The smugglers laughed.
“You may blaze away, but you won’t do us much harm!” observed Dore.
Another and another shot followed. The commander of the cruiser evidently wished to make the lugger heave to. If he had before had doubts of her character, he must now have been thoroughly satisfied as to what she was, and would become more eager to capture her.
“Stand by, my lads, to make sail!” cried Dore. “Keep up the helm, Tom, and hoist away on the squaresail!”
The lugger was put before the wind, running considerably faster than she had hitherto been doing through the water. The corvette must have observed her change of course, as she also kept away, and once more her topgallant sails were loosed. It was too dark to observe how the masts stood the pressure.
“I only wish that they would set the royals; with this breeze there would be a good chance of the spars being carried away,” said Dore.
It was very doubtful whether the corvette was gaining on the lugger. Though the advancing night gradually shrouded her more and more in gloom, she could still be discerned, her canvas rising up like a dark phantom stalking over the ocean. The crew of the lugger stood at their stations, ready at a moment to obey their captain’s orders. He kept his eye on the topsails, though if blown away the accident would not be of much consequence. The masts were tough, and bent like willow wands.
“They’ll hold on as long as we want them now,” observed Dore. Again and again he looked astern. Presently he shouted, “Lower the topsails! Starboard the helm, Tom! Haul away at the starboard braces!” and the lugger, on the port tack, stood close hauled to the southward.
The sharpest eyes on board were turned in the direction their pursuer was supposed to be. Some time passed away.
“There she is!” cried Ben. “Although we see her, she doesn’t see us, as we are stern on, and much lower in the water than she is.”
Dick looked with all his might. He could just discern some object moving along over the water, but so indistinctly that he could not be certain it was a ship. Still, the commander of the corvette might suspect that the lugger had changed her course, and changed his also.
“All right!” cried Dore, after watching the phantom-like stranger in the distance, until she totally disappeared. “She’ll not catch us this cruise.”
The lugger was put about, on the starboard tack, and once more stood towards the English coast.
“Shall we be in to-morrow morning?” asked Dick.
“No, no,” answered Ben. “Whatever happens, we shall make the coast at night, when the revenue men can’t see us. We have friends on the look-out, who will make signals to show us when and where to run in. The weather is too fine at present, so that we shall have to dodge about and wait for a dark night, with thick rain or fog; but we don’t much trust fogs, they may lift suddenly and show our whereabouts to those we do not want to see us. However, we must run some risks. We want to land our goods in quiet, but if any one interferes with us, we of course must fight to defend our property. All right and square, you will understand, but if there’s bloodshed, it is the fault of those who wish to take it from us.”
Dick did not ask himself whether Ben was right or wrong. He forgot that one party were breaking the laws, the other performing their duty in protecting them.
Next morning, when Dick came on deck, he found the lugger hove to, with the blue line of the English coast to the northward. Though the shore could be seen, the vessel herself was too far off to be discerned from thence. Most of the crew were below, but the watch on deck, vigilant as ever, were turning their eyes in every direction, so that, should a suspicious sail appear, they might at once shape a course which would enable them to avoid her. Dick, who had been accustomed to an active life, began to grow weary at having nothing to do. He walked the deck with his hands in his pockets, talking to the men, or he sat below listening to their yarns, which were generally not of a very edifying character.
The greater number of the crew passed their time, either sleeping or playing at cards or dice. Sometimes, for a change they turned to and cleaned their muskets and pistols, or burnished up their cutlasses. It was a relief when a stranger appeared whom it was thought better to avoid. The lugger making sail stood to the southward. She returned to her former position, however, as soon as the suspicious craft had passed. This occurred twice during the day. At night she stood close in to the coast, to look out for signals, but none were seen, and before the morning she again took up her former position at a sufficient distance to be invisible from the shore.
For several days the same sort of proceeding took place. Two or three times she made all sail, it being supposed that she was chased, and once she had a narrow escape from a French cruiser, who probably took her for an English privateer. The wind continued moderate, and the sky clear, and Dore began to swear and to wish for some real honest Channel weather. At last the wind shifted, first to the southward and afterwards to the south-west, from which direction a thick bank of mist was seen coming up, and the lugger, directly she was shrouded by it, made sail for the English coast. Although there was no fear of her being seen from any distance, she still ran the risk of falling into the lion’s jaws, to avoid which a sharp lookout was kept, and all hands stood ready to trim sails in case it should be necessary.
The night was coming on, and it was soon dark enough to suit their requirements. She now frequently hove to, to sound as well as to watch for any signal from the shore. At length a light was seen, faint and dim through the mist, another was shown a short distance from it, and then a third appeared, when all three in an instant disappeared. The lugger stood on, sail was shortened, and the anchor dropped. Scarcely had she brought up when half a dozen boats dashed alongside.
“Be smart, my lads!” cried Dore. “If we are quick about it, we may run the whole of the cargo before the revenue men are down upon us.”
Not another word was spoken; every one knew exactly what he had to do. The lugger’s crew hoisted out the bales and kegs, and the men who had come off stowed them away in the boats. The lugger’s own boat was not idle. Having loaded her, Ben and Dick, with three other men, jumped in and pushed for the shore. The surf was pretty heavy, but without accident they reached the beach, where a large party of people were collected, with a number of pack horses and carts. The boats were at once surrounded, and their cargoes quickly taken out of them and placed either in the carts or on the backs of the horses. The work was carried on with the greatest rapidity, and by the time Dick and his companions had launched their boat, the whole had begun to move off, and before the lugger was reached, not a single person was to be seen on the beach.
On their return to theNancy, the boat was hoisted in and preparations began for making sail. The operation required care, for should she cast the wrong way, she might drive on shore. The skipper himself took the helm. The hands went to their stations. The instant the anchor was away the sails were sheeted home, and the lugger, casting, as desired, to port, stood off from the dangerous coast, close-hauled. She had not got many cable lengths from the beach when two boats dashed alongside. A number of armed men sprang on board.
“We’ve caught you, my fine fellows,” exclaimed an officer. “Yield, in the king’s name!”
“Happy to see you, gentlemen,” answered Dore, with the greatest coolness. “You are welcome to look over our craft, and if you find anything contraband on board—for that I suppose is what you are after—we’ll yield fast enough.”
The officer was evidently nonplussed, but he was still not inclined to take the smuggler’s word. He allowed the lugger, however, to stand further out, until she could heave to with safety, when he ordered the foresail to be backed. He, with several of his men, then went below, Dore ordering Dick and another lad to carry a couple of lanterns, that the officer might see his way. The search, as Dore well knew would be the case, revealed nothing on which the revenue could lay hands—not a bale nor keg of spirits, nor even a few pounds of tobacco.
“Circumstances certainly were suspicious. You have cleaned her out completely,” said the officer, turning to Dick, and as he did so eyeing him narrowly. “Where was the cargo run?”
Dick was very nearly replying, “Not long ago,” and thus confessing that the cargo had been run, but recollecting in time that the smugglers might object to such an answer, he said—
“I am merely a passenger on board, sir, and it is not my business to answer questions.”
“What’s your name, my lad?” asked the officer.
Dick was on the point of replying, when Ben, who had heard the question, stepped up. “It is your business, Mr Lieutenant, to overhaul this craft and see that there are no smuggled goods on board, and when that business is over you have nothing more to do. That youngster’s name may be Jack Robinson, or it may be Tom Jones, but whatever it may be is no business of yours.”
The officer put several questions to others of the crew, but neither from them nor from the captain could he elicit any of the information he required. They were perfectly civil to him, and offered not the slightest opposition to his going through every part of the vessel, and joked with the boats’ crews, several recognising old shipmates. They shook hands, patted each other on the back, and appeared on the most friendly terms. Yet the case would have been very different had theNancy’scargo been on board. There would then have been a death struggle, the one to defend, the other to take possession of the craft, and they would have fought until one or the other had been defeated.
“Well, Captain Dore,” said the lieutenant, “you have been too smart for us this time, but we intend to catch you some day or other.”
“Maybe theNancywill be sunk by an enemy’s cruiser before then. You seem to have an idea, lieutenant, that we are smugglers. I didn’t think fit to gainsay you before, but if you’ll step back into my cabin I’ll show you my privateer’s licence, which will prove to you that we are engaged lawfully, making war against the French trade,” answered Dore.
“Well, well, whichever you are, I won’t longer detain you; but before I go I wish to have a word with the youngster I saw on board, the son of a respectable farmer living out Milford way.”
“We detain no one on board against his will, except he has signed articles. If the lad is the person you suppose, and is willing to go, go he may, provided you can promise that no harm can come to him.”
“I wish to prevent him getting into harm,” said the lieutenant, and he sent one of his men to find Dick, who was soon afterwards brought aft.
Dick was in two minds about going. When the lieutenant told him of the anxiety of his father and mother, he was on the point of accepting the offer. Just at that moment Ben stepped up.
“You’d better not,” he whispered, “for the officer may mean you well, but remember there are others who want to get you into their power, and you will repent it.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Dick. “I have come on board this vessel of my own free will, and would rather stay where I am. If you will see father and mother, and tell them I am all right, I will be obliged to you.”
“You see, sir, that the lad doesn’t want to go, and as you have found nothing on board to enable you to detain this vessel, I must beg you to let us make sail, for we are drifting in shore closer than is safe.”
Again the lieutenant appealed to Dick. Dore, however, suspected that if the lieutenant got him into his power he might induce him to come forward to prove that theNancywas engaged in smuggling, and that he should then be deprived of his privateer’s licence, so, giving a hint to his men, they surrounded Dick and carried him forward.
As the lieutenant had performed his duty, he ordered his men into the boats and they pulled away for the shore, while theNancystood out to sea.