Chapter Seven.The Search for Margery—The Slipper—The Vault—Tom and Charley disappear.Captain Askew was a man of action, and, while the search for Margery was being carried on in the Tower, he hurried down to the hamlet, to ascertain if she had been seen by any one there, or if any one could give him any clue by which to trace her. He went, in the first place, to Dick Herring’s cottage, for though of late Dick had always met him with a sulky, surly expression on his countenance, they were once good friends, and he thought that under the present circumstances the heart of even the rough smuggler would be softened; but Dick was away, and Susan, his wife, said that she did not know when he would return—she never did know. Their daughter Polly, whom he met bringing in a bucket of fresh water from the neighbouring spring, also said that she had not seen Miss Margery, though the captain fancied that there was an odd expression on her countenance when she spoke. He therefore cross-questioned her, but not a word to show that she could even guess what had become of Margery could he elicit. He next went to Molly Scuttle’s cottage, but the old woman could give him no information; she could only suggest that the ghosts must to a certainty have had something to do with it. When he replied that he did not believe in such things, she answered that they had evidently carried off his daughter to punish him for his incredulity, and to prove their existence to him. He hurried round from cottage to cottage, but the people only opened their eyes and mouths wide with astonishment, and gave him no information likely to be of the slightest use. Disappointed, he returned to the Tower. There the search had continued with unabated diligence; Tom had made a discovery, but it seemed doubtful to what it would lead. He had found one of the little girl’s slippers in the dark passage on the ground-floor, near the spot where he had fancied that he had seen the light and heard the groan on the memorable night when the pretended ghosts had appeared. How it had come there, however, was the question. He carried it to Becky to consult with her on the subject. It was not likely to have been dropped by Margery, because had she been walking she would naturally have stopped to put it on again. Indeed it was absurd to suppose that she had run away of her own free will; it therefore seemed most probable that she had been carried along by some one, and that her slipper had fallen off unobserved. Still the questions, how those who had committed the outrage had got into the house, and how they had got out again, remained unanswered. Becky could solve neither. She was of opinion, “though she would not like to tell the captain or the missus, that the ghosteses had done it, and that they hadn’t got in by either of the doors or windows, but somehow or other out of the ground, for that’s where them things, I have heard say, always comes from; but it’s dreadful to think that poor, dear, sweet Miss Margery should have been carried off into such a place as they lives in,” she observed to Tom in a low voice.“That’s all nonsense, Becky,” responded Tom. “The captain says as how there’s no such things as ghosteses, and therefore it’s my belief that there isn’t; besides, don’t you know that this here old Tower stands on the solid rock? Why there isn’t an inch of ground all round it, into which I could run a spade if I tried ever so much, and I should like to see the ghost who could work his way through that: it’s all very well for them as is put under the soft black mould of a churchyard, of course, if they has a mind to take a turn or two about the world at midnight, there’d be nothing to prevent them that I sees, except that the captain says it’s impossible.”“Oh, dear! Tom, don’t go on to talk in that way; it makes me all over in a cold shiver to think what has become of poor dear Miss Margery.”Neither Tom nor Becky were possessed of any education of the most ordinary sort, so they may be excused talking the nonsense to which it must be confessed they gave utterance on the subject. Poor Mrs Askew was bewildered with grief and dismay and anxiety as to what had become of her beloved child. Charley could not believe that Margery would be guilty of any foolish act, yet when he remembered her conversation in the morning with Stephen about going to look for her brother in the South Seas, and her indignation on finding that he would not go, he thought it just possible that she might have set off by herself with some wild scheme of the sort in her head; and yet such a proceeding was so unlike herself that he dismissed the idea as soon as he had conceived it, and did not even mention it to Captain Askew. If she had gone, it was not likely that she would get far without being discovered, and they would soon hear of her. Although Captain Askew was himself a magistrate, it was necessary to give information of the strange event to Mr Ludlow, that he might assist in discovering the perpetrators of the outrage, and Charley Blount volunteered to go over to the Hall for that object. Some time had already been spent in fruitless search, so Charley, after he had snatched a hurried breakfast, set off as fast as his legs could carry him. He was a good runner at all times, but on the present occasion, believing that the faster he went the sooner dear little Margery might be recovered, he ran as he had never before run in his life. Had he been dilatory he might never have reached the Hall at all, for those who were on the watch for any one leaving the Tower, believing that he would have gone at an ordinary speed, happily missed him.Mr Ludlow was highly indignant at what he heard, and sorry too, for even he admired little Margery, and he at once proposed sending to London for a detective officer. “One of those sharp-witted gentlemen is far more likely than are we thick-headed country-folks to discover how she little girl has been spirited away,” he observed. “Of one thing I am certain, that the smugglers are at the bottom of it, and of another, that if they have not a confederate in the house—and old Tom and Becky look honest enough—they have the means of getting in unknown to us. I will write for the officer, and then you and Stephen shall ride over with me and we will look into the matter.”Captain Askew was very grateful to Mr Ludlow for coming over so speedily, but though they again made a thorough examination, as they supposed, of the whole tower, they could not throw any fresh light on the mysterious subject.“The detective officer, when he arrives, will soon ferret out the truth, however, depend on that,” observed Mr Ludlow, as he and Stephen mounted their horses to ride back. But neither the captain nor Charley were inclined to wait till the said detective should arrive to win back what they valued so much. Charley thought again and again over the subject, and talked to Tom about the light, and the groan, and the dear little slipper, and suddenly Tom slapped his leg and said that he remembered when the Tower was being put in order that one of the workmen had told him that there was a vault or cellar under a part of it, from which a passage was said to lead down to the seashore. He was not certain whether the captain had heard the account, at all events he did not appear to have believed it, and of course had forgotten it altogether. Tom confessed that he was very stupid not to have thought of it before, though he was not even then much inclined to believe in the truth of the story.Charley thought differently, and resolved at once to search for the opening—if such existed—to the vault. He charged Tom not to tell the captain, as it would be a disappointment to him should they fail to make the discovery they hoped for. At that very juncture blind Peter, having heard a rumour of the supposed abduction of Miss Margery, came to the Tower to learn whether or not the story was true.Charley immediately took him into his counsels. Peter thought over the subject. Yes, he had heard the account of the vault under the Tower, and what was more, he knew an old mason residing about two miles off who had worked there, and who was, he rather thought, the very man who had told him of it. He would go off at once and fetch John Trowel and his tools, and they would very soon burrow into the molehill if one existed.Charley and Tom occupied the time of Peter’s absence in preparing with a rope and a lantern to explore the cavern they hoped to find. They forgot at first that they might possibly encounter opposition, as it was certain that if the cavern did exist it had had occupants, and probably had still, who would not welcome any intrusion on their privacy. Charley, however, at length thought of this. It did not for a moment make him hesitate about carrying out his plans, but he thought that it would be wise to provide himself and Tom with arms. The captain had a brace of pistols and a fowling-piece, and Tom had an old French cutlass which he had taken from the enemy, and treasured as a trophy of his fighting days. Charley at once went up to the captain, who was writing to the officers of the coastguard, and to others who might possibly hear something of his little girl. “Any news? any news?” he asked, as Charley entered.“No, sir, but if we could find our way into some of the smugglers’ hiding-places, we might learn more than we do now, and as I would rather have a weapon in my hand than trust to my fists with such gentry, I beg that you will lend me your firearms.”The captain made no answer, but pointed to them over the fireplace, where they hung, with a flask of powder and a bag of bullets.Charley hurried off to avoid having any questions asked him. Tom was delighted to get the weapons, and declared that, although he had but one arm, he could use his cutlass as well as any man. He then put on a belt that he might stick a pistol in it, and advised Charley to do the same, that he might hold the gun ready for use. At last old John Trowel arrived with Peter. He remembered perfectly all about the vault, had once been down it, and thought that he could find the entrance without difficulty, though it had been been blocked up; but as to a passage leading down to the beach—of that he could not speak with any certainty.“No time is to be lost, though!” exclaimed Tom, when he heard this. “Come along, and mind you make as little noise as possible.”The old mason went at once up to the very spot where Tom had seen the light, and he began immediately to work there, scraping away the mortar from between the stones, Charley and Tom helping him, while blind Peter held the lantern. They worked on patiently, knowing that by such means people have frequently let themselves out through the thick walls of a prison. More than half-an-hour had been thus employed when Charley felt the stone on which he stood move; jumping off it, with but little difficulty he lifted it up, when a regular wooden trap-door appeared below. This it was soon found was made to open downwards and how to force it open without making a noise was the question.Again Charley had to hurry off to the captain’s room to borrow a centrepiece, a small saw and a file, and by labouring with these steadily the bolt which held up the trap was cut round, and Tom then having securely fastened a rope to it, the trap was noiselessly lowered and a dark vault appeared below. There could now be little doubt by which way the pretended ghosts had found their way into the Tower. On a lantern being lowered a ladder was seen, on to which Charley immediately jumped, and fearlessly descended into the vault. As a sailor, he knew the importance of securing a fresh hold before letting go of the first, so he held on to the beam above till he had found a firm rest for his feet. He thus descended for a considerable depth, while Tom let down the lantern by a rope that he might see the nature of the place into which he had got. He at length reached the bottom, and taking the lantern from the end of the rope, commenced an examination of the place in which he found himself. It was a large roughly-hewn vault, which looked as if it had been the quarry from whence the stone with which the fortress was built had been taken. Around it were cells, where some rusty iron bars and ring bolts let into the rock showed that it had been the prison of the castle, and Charley shuddered as he thought of the unhappy people who had once been confined there, where not a gleam of light nor the slightest sound could pierce through the solid rock. As soon as Tom found that Charley had reached the bottom, he also descended—holding his cutlass in his teeth—as actively as most men could have done with two hands. Peter and old John Trowel were directed to wait above. Peter said that from his acuteness of hearing he should be able to judge what progress they were making, and to let Captain Askew know where they were gone.Blind Peter and old John waited on the top of the ladder leading down into the vault, expecting the return of Tom or Charley, or else to receive some signal from them announcing the progress they had made. Peter listened attentively—“I hear them going round and round the vault to look for the passage,” he observed to old John. “It must be a large place, larger than I thought for, and they don’t seem to be able to find the passage.”“Maybe there’s no passage to find,” said John sagaciously.Still they did not come back, and Peter declared that he could no longer hear their footsteps. They waited and waited, but the explorers did not appear. Old John suggested that there might be some pit or hole into which they had tumbled, and perhaps nothing would ever again be heard of them; but the idea was too terrible to entertain, for Peter had a sincere regard for Tom, and Charley’s blithe voice and kind manners had won his heart. They ought at once to have gone to Captain Askew, and procured proper assistance, with lights, ropes, and ladders. Old John was scarcely able to descend the ladder, and did any hole exist, the blind man would most probably have fallen into it. Notwithstanding this he proposed descending, till old John persuaded him to give up the idea, and at length, when it would very likely be too late to save the lives of the explorers, they agreed to summon the captain. Captain Askew could scarcely understand the account he heard. That there was a vault under the Tower he was ready to believe, as he now remembered hearing the report that one existed, but that his young friend Charley and old companion Tom should have gone into it and been irretrievably lost he would not believe. He would immediately have descended himself to look for them, but that his timber-toe and a rickety ladder did not suit each other. He considered whom he could summon in the village, but they were all more or less connected with the smugglers. He however determined to ask the assistance of some of the most trustworthy among them. He took his hat and was hurrying down the hill when he met one of the men of the coastguard going his rounds. He at once agreed to accompany the captain, but said that by the delay of twenty minutes or so he could obtain the assistance of two or three of his mates, and as he could be of little use by himself, the captain begged him to get them as soon as possible.The captain then went back to the Tower, and found blind Peter and old John waiting at the trap-door. They had heard sounds, they said, but had got no answer to their shouts. In vain the captain also hailed as a sailor alone can, though his voice had perhaps lost something of its strength. All remained silent below, and his fears for the safety of his friends increased to a painful degree. At last the coastguard men arrived—stout fellows, well armed—with their lanterns and ropes; they were not likely to be baffled in the search. As, however, they stood over the entrance of the dark abyss, the countenances of most of the party turned pale. They were ready to face smugglers or pirates, Russians, Frenchmen, Turks, or savages of every description, all the enemies of their country; but they had heard of the Tower being haunted, and suppose any of the ghosts, or spirits, or imps, who frequented the spot, should start up and confront them! The captain saw what they were thinking about. Following the system he had always adopted where danger was to be incurred, he exclaimed, “Lower me down first, my lads, I’ll see what is to be seen.” Suiting the action to the word he fastened a rope round his waist, and, with the help of it and the ladder, soon reached the bottom. The men now followed without hesitation, the captain leading the way, and looking round and round the vault. “It is very extraordinary,” he exclaimed at length. “I can scarcely believe that they came down here, there is no hole into which they could have fallen, no outlet through which they could have passed.”“It’s vary terrible, vary terrible indeed, sir,” said Sandy MacGregor, an old Scotchman and the chief boatman. “It’s the spirits or the bogies ha’ carried them off, there’s na doubt about that, and it’s only to be hoped that they’ll na come and carry us awa’ too.”The fear thus expressed very soon communicated itself to the other men, and had a rat started up, although they would not have deserted the captain, their knees would certainly have shaken as they had never done in the presence of a mortal foe.“Nonsense, my man,” exclaimed Captain Askew. “There are no spirits in this vault to hurt us, and depend on it if our friends have been carried away spirits have had nothing to do with it; still, I tell you, I cannot account for it.”It was indeed strange. Every cell, every nook and corner was examined. The sides of the vault were either solid rock or masonry. There was no place through which two people could have passed by any visible means. At length, most unwillingly, Captain Askew told the men that he should return into the Tower. The order was obeyed with wonderful alacrity, and they were well pleased when he told them that he would be the last man up. They were all soon out of the vault, and ready to assist him up in the way he had gone down. He had to confess himself thoroughly baffled. When he talked the subject over with Mrs Askew, they could neither of them account for the way in which their dear child had been so cruelly carried off, nor how Tom nor Charley had disappeared, and yet they were fully convinced that human agency alone had been at work.Meantime Becky had taken charge of the coasts guard men, and blind Peter and John, and was able, in spite of her grief, to serve them with bread and cheese and cider. As they continued to discuss the matter, Peter was the only one who persisted in asserting that human agency alone had been employed, while Sandy MacGregor as strongly maintained that spirits of a very disreputable nature had a finger in the pie. That, however, like other matters of mystery, was one day to receive a solution.
Captain Askew was a man of action, and, while the search for Margery was being carried on in the Tower, he hurried down to the hamlet, to ascertain if she had been seen by any one there, or if any one could give him any clue by which to trace her. He went, in the first place, to Dick Herring’s cottage, for though of late Dick had always met him with a sulky, surly expression on his countenance, they were once good friends, and he thought that under the present circumstances the heart of even the rough smuggler would be softened; but Dick was away, and Susan, his wife, said that she did not know when he would return—she never did know. Their daughter Polly, whom he met bringing in a bucket of fresh water from the neighbouring spring, also said that she had not seen Miss Margery, though the captain fancied that there was an odd expression on her countenance when she spoke. He therefore cross-questioned her, but not a word to show that she could even guess what had become of Margery could he elicit. He next went to Molly Scuttle’s cottage, but the old woman could give him no information; she could only suggest that the ghosts must to a certainty have had something to do with it. When he replied that he did not believe in such things, she answered that they had evidently carried off his daughter to punish him for his incredulity, and to prove their existence to him. He hurried round from cottage to cottage, but the people only opened their eyes and mouths wide with astonishment, and gave him no information likely to be of the slightest use. Disappointed, he returned to the Tower. There the search had continued with unabated diligence; Tom had made a discovery, but it seemed doubtful to what it would lead. He had found one of the little girl’s slippers in the dark passage on the ground-floor, near the spot where he had fancied that he had seen the light and heard the groan on the memorable night when the pretended ghosts had appeared. How it had come there, however, was the question. He carried it to Becky to consult with her on the subject. It was not likely to have been dropped by Margery, because had she been walking she would naturally have stopped to put it on again. Indeed it was absurd to suppose that she had run away of her own free will; it therefore seemed most probable that she had been carried along by some one, and that her slipper had fallen off unobserved. Still the questions, how those who had committed the outrage had got into the house, and how they had got out again, remained unanswered. Becky could solve neither. She was of opinion, “though she would not like to tell the captain or the missus, that the ghosteses had done it, and that they hadn’t got in by either of the doors or windows, but somehow or other out of the ground, for that’s where them things, I have heard say, always comes from; but it’s dreadful to think that poor, dear, sweet Miss Margery should have been carried off into such a place as they lives in,” she observed to Tom in a low voice.
“That’s all nonsense, Becky,” responded Tom. “The captain says as how there’s no such things as ghosteses, and therefore it’s my belief that there isn’t; besides, don’t you know that this here old Tower stands on the solid rock? Why there isn’t an inch of ground all round it, into which I could run a spade if I tried ever so much, and I should like to see the ghost who could work his way through that: it’s all very well for them as is put under the soft black mould of a churchyard, of course, if they has a mind to take a turn or two about the world at midnight, there’d be nothing to prevent them that I sees, except that the captain says it’s impossible.”
“Oh, dear! Tom, don’t go on to talk in that way; it makes me all over in a cold shiver to think what has become of poor dear Miss Margery.”
Neither Tom nor Becky were possessed of any education of the most ordinary sort, so they may be excused talking the nonsense to which it must be confessed they gave utterance on the subject. Poor Mrs Askew was bewildered with grief and dismay and anxiety as to what had become of her beloved child. Charley could not believe that Margery would be guilty of any foolish act, yet when he remembered her conversation in the morning with Stephen about going to look for her brother in the South Seas, and her indignation on finding that he would not go, he thought it just possible that she might have set off by herself with some wild scheme of the sort in her head; and yet such a proceeding was so unlike herself that he dismissed the idea as soon as he had conceived it, and did not even mention it to Captain Askew. If she had gone, it was not likely that she would get far without being discovered, and they would soon hear of her. Although Captain Askew was himself a magistrate, it was necessary to give information of the strange event to Mr Ludlow, that he might assist in discovering the perpetrators of the outrage, and Charley Blount volunteered to go over to the Hall for that object. Some time had already been spent in fruitless search, so Charley, after he had snatched a hurried breakfast, set off as fast as his legs could carry him. He was a good runner at all times, but on the present occasion, believing that the faster he went the sooner dear little Margery might be recovered, he ran as he had never before run in his life. Had he been dilatory he might never have reached the Hall at all, for those who were on the watch for any one leaving the Tower, believing that he would have gone at an ordinary speed, happily missed him.
Mr Ludlow was highly indignant at what he heard, and sorry too, for even he admired little Margery, and he at once proposed sending to London for a detective officer. “One of those sharp-witted gentlemen is far more likely than are we thick-headed country-folks to discover how she little girl has been spirited away,” he observed. “Of one thing I am certain, that the smugglers are at the bottom of it, and of another, that if they have not a confederate in the house—and old Tom and Becky look honest enough—they have the means of getting in unknown to us. I will write for the officer, and then you and Stephen shall ride over with me and we will look into the matter.”
Captain Askew was very grateful to Mr Ludlow for coming over so speedily, but though they again made a thorough examination, as they supposed, of the whole tower, they could not throw any fresh light on the mysterious subject.
“The detective officer, when he arrives, will soon ferret out the truth, however, depend on that,” observed Mr Ludlow, as he and Stephen mounted their horses to ride back. But neither the captain nor Charley were inclined to wait till the said detective should arrive to win back what they valued so much. Charley thought again and again over the subject, and talked to Tom about the light, and the groan, and the dear little slipper, and suddenly Tom slapped his leg and said that he remembered when the Tower was being put in order that one of the workmen had told him that there was a vault or cellar under a part of it, from which a passage was said to lead down to the seashore. He was not certain whether the captain had heard the account, at all events he did not appear to have believed it, and of course had forgotten it altogether. Tom confessed that he was very stupid not to have thought of it before, though he was not even then much inclined to believe in the truth of the story.
Charley thought differently, and resolved at once to search for the opening—if such existed—to the vault. He charged Tom not to tell the captain, as it would be a disappointment to him should they fail to make the discovery they hoped for. At that very juncture blind Peter, having heard a rumour of the supposed abduction of Miss Margery, came to the Tower to learn whether or not the story was true.
Charley immediately took him into his counsels. Peter thought over the subject. Yes, he had heard the account of the vault under the Tower, and what was more, he knew an old mason residing about two miles off who had worked there, and who was, he rather thought, the very man who had told him of it. He would go off at once and fetch John Trowel and his tools, and they would very soon burrow into the molehill if one existed.
Charley and Tom occupied the time of Peter’s absence in preparing with a rope and a lantern to explore the cavern they hoped to find. They forgot at first that they might possibly encounter opposition, as it was certain that if the cavern did exist it had had occupants, and probably had still, who would not welcome any intrusion on their privacy. Charley, however, at length thought of this. It did not for a moment make him hesitate about carrying out his plans, but he thought that it would be wise to provide himself and Tom with arms. The captain had a brace of pistols and a fowling-piece, and Tom had an old French cutlass which he had taken from the enemy, and treasured as a trophy of his fighting days. Charley at once went up to the captain, who was writing to the officers of the coastguard, and to others who might possibly hear something of his little girl. “Any news? any news?” he asked, as Charley entered.
“No, sir, but if we could find our way into some of the smugglers’ hiding-places, we might learn more than we do now, and as I would rather have a weapon in my hand than trust to my fists with such gentry, I beg that you will lend me your firearms.”
The captain made no answer, but pointed to them over the fireplace, where they hung, with a flask of powder and a bag of bullets.
Charley hurried off to avoid having any questions asked him. Tom was delighted to get the weapons, and declared that, although he had but one arm, he could use his cutlass as well as any man. He then put on a belt that he might stick a pistol in it, and advised Charley to do the same, that he might hold the gun ready for use. At last old John Trowel arrived with Peter. He remembered perfectly all about the vault, had once been down it, and thought that he could find the entrance without difficulty, though it had been been blocked up; but as to a passage leading down to the beach—of that he could not speak with any certainty.
“No time is to be lost, though!” exclaimed Tom, when he heard this. “Come along, and mind you make as little noise as possible.”
The old mason went at once up to the very spot where Tom had seen the light, and he began immediately to work there, scraping away the mortar from between the stones, Charley and Tom helping him, while blind Peter held the lantern. They worked on patiently, knowing that by such means people have frequently let themselves out through the thick walls of a prison. More than half-an-hour had been thus employed when Charley felt the stone on which he stood move; jumping off it, with but little difficulty he lifted it up, when a regular wooden trap-door appeared below. This it was soon found was made to open downwards and how to force it open without making a noise was the question.
Again Charley had to hurry off to the captain’s room to borrow a centrepiece, a small saw and a file, and by labouring with these steadily the bolt which held up the trap was cut round, and Tom then having securely fastened a rope to it, the trap was noiselessly lowered and a dark vault appeared below. There could now be little doubt by which way the pretended ghosts had found their way into the Tower. On a lantern being lowered a ladder was seen, on to which Charley immediately jumped, and fearlessly descended into the vault. As a sailor, he knew the importance of securing a fresh hold before letting go of the first, so he held on to the beam above till he had found a firm rest for his feet. He thus descended for a considerable depth, while Tom let down the lantern by a rope that he might see the nature of the place into which he had got. He at length reached the bottom, and taking the lantern from the end of the rope, commenced an examination of the place in which he found himself. It was a large roughly-hewn vault, which looked as if it had been the quarry from whence the stone with which the fortress was built had been taken. Around it were cells, where some rusty iron bars and ring bolts let into the rock showed that it had been the prison of the castle, and Charley shuddered as he thought of the unhappy people who had once been confined there, where not a gleam of light nor the slightest sound could pierce through the solid rock. As soon as Tom found that Charley had reached the bottom, he also descended—holding his cutlass in his teeth—as actively as most men could have done with two hands. Peter and old John Trowel were directed to wait above. Peter said that from his acuteness of hearing he should be able to judge what progress they were making, and to let Captain Askew know where they were gone.
Blind Peter and old John waited on the top of the ladder leading down into the vault, expecting the return of Tom or Charley, or else to receive some signal from them announcing the progress they had made. Peter listened attentively—“I hear them going round and round the vault to look for the passage,” he observed to old John. “It must be a large place, larger than I thought for, and they don’t seem to be able to find the passage.”
“Maybe there’s no passage to find,” said John sagaciously.
Still they did not come back, and Peter declared that he could no longer hear their footsteps. They waited and waited, but the explorers did not appear. Old John suggested that there might be some pit or hole into which they had tumbled, and perhaps nothing would ever again be heard of them; but the idea was too terrible to entertain, for Peter had a sincere regard for Tom, and Charley’s blithe voice and kind manners had won his heart. They ought at once to have gone to Captain Askew, and procured proper assistance, with lights, ropes, and ladders. Old John was scarcely able to descend the ladder, and did any hole exist, the blind man would most probably have fallen into it. Notwithstanding this he proposed descending, till old John persuaded him to give up the idea, and at length, when it would very likely be too late to save the lives of the explorers, they agreed to summon the captain. Captain Askew could scarcely understand the account he heard. That there was a vault under the Tower he was ready to believe, as he now remembered hearing the report that one existed, but that his young friend Charley and old companion Tom should have gone into it and been irretrievably lost he would not believe. He would immediately have descended himself to look for them, but that his timber-toe and a rickety ladder did not suit each other. He considered whom he could summon in the village, but they were all more or less connected with the smugglers. He however determined to ask the assistance of some of the most trustworthy among them. He took his hat and was hurrying down the hill when he met one of the men of the coastguard going his rounds. He at once agreed to accompany the captain, but said that by the delay of twenty minutes or so he could obtain the assistance of two or three of his mates, and as he could be of little use by himself, the captain begged him to get them as soon as possible.
The captain then went back to the Tower, and found blind Peter and old John waiting at the trap-door. They had heard sounds, they said, but had got no answer to their shouts. In vain the captain also hailed as a sailor alone can, though his voice had perhaps lost something of its strength. All remained silent below, and his fears for the safety of his friends increased to a painful degree. At last the coastguard men arrived—stout fellows, well armed—with their lanterns and ropes; they were not likely to be baffled in the search. As, however, they stood over the entrance of the dark abyss, the countenances of most of the party turned pale. They were ready to face smugglers or pirates, Russians, Frenchmen, Turks, or savages of every description, all the enemies of their country; but they had heard of the Tower being haunted, and suppose any of the ghosts, or spirits, or imps, who frequented the spot, should start up and confront them! The captain saw what they were thinking about. Following the system he had always adopted where danger was to be incurred, he exclaimed, “Lower me down first, my lads, I’ll see what is to be seen.” Suiting the action to the word he fastened a rope round his waist, and, with the help of it and the ladder, soon reached the bottom. The men now followed without hesitation, the captain leading the way, and looking round and round the vault. “It is very extraordinary,” he exclaimed at length. “I can scarcely believe that they came down here, there is no hole into which they could have fallen, no outlet through which they could have passed.”
“It’s vary terrible, vary terrible indeed, sir,” said Sandy MacGregor, an old Scotchman and the chief boatman. “It’s the spirits or the bogies ha’ carried them off, there’s na doubt about that, and it’s only to be hoped that they’ll na come and carry us awa’ too.”
The fear thus expressed very soon communicated itself to the other men, and had a rat started up, although they would not have deserted the captain, their knees would certainly have shaken as they had never done in the presence of a mortal foe.
“Nonsense, my man,” exclaimed Captain Askew. “There are no spirits in this vault to hurt us, and depend on it if our friends have been carried away spirits have had nothing to do with it; still, I tell you, I cannot account for it.”
It was indeed strange. Every cell, every nook and corner was examined. The sides of the vault were either solid rock or masonry. There was no place through which two people could have passed by any visible means. At length, most unwillingly, Captain Askew told the men that he should return into the Tower. The order was obeyed with wonderful alacrity, and they were well pleased when he told them that he would be the last man up. They were all soon out of the vault, and ready to assist him up in the way he had gone down. He had to confess himself thoroughly baffled. When he talked the subject over with Mrs Askew, they could neither of them account for the way in which their dear child had been so cruelly carried off, nor how Tom nor Charley had disappeared, and yet they were fully convinced that human agency alone had been at work.
Meantime Becky had taken charge of the coasts guard men, and blind Peter and John, and was able, in spite of her grief, to serve them with bread and cheese and cider. As they continued to discuss the matter, Peter was the only one who persisted in asserting that human agency alone had been employed, while Sandy MacGregor as strongly maintained that spirits of a very disreputable nature had a finger in the pie. That, however, like other matters of mystery, was one day to receive a solution.
Chapter Eight.The Smuggler’s Cave—Taken Captive—A Terrible Situation.As soon as Charley was joined by Tom, he commenced a more thorough examination of the vault; but no outlets could they discover, and they began to doubt whether their nocturnal visitors could have got through it into the Tower. Could there be another passage independent altogether of the vault? They went round and round and could find no door or trap, or opening of any sort.“I doubt if we are right, after all,” observed Charley; “we must try and find some other way down—for way there is, of that I am certain.”“We are right; still, though,” answered Tom, “that ladder has had other feet on it of late besides ours; and just let me see how the bolt of the trap-door could have been fastened from below if there wasn’t some one to do it. It wasn’t the ghosteses, I suppose, Mister Charles? and look here—what’s this?” he added, as stooping down he picked up another small slipper, the fellow to the one which was known to be Margery’s.The sight of it induced Charley to renew his search, and directly afterwards he discovered in one of the cells a ring, which looked, he thought, as if it was intended to serve as a handle to a stone door. He pulled it with all his strength, and slowly turning on a pair of heavy rusty hinges it opened, and showed a flight of steps cut in the rock, and leading downwards.“Come along,” he whispered to Tom, “we shall soon solve the mystery.”He led, Tom following, and holding the lantern with a torch ready to light at the end of his hook arm, while he held a pistol in his other hand. At first they descended by very steep steps cut in the rock, then the passage was almost on a level and turned and twisted considerably, showing that it had been formed in the first place by nature, and had been simply enlarged by the hand of man.Charley was, however, thinking all the time far more of little Margery, and how frightened she must have been when carried along it, than of the way in which the passage had been formed. He was expecting also every instant to find himself confronted by a number of fierce smugglers, who would naturally be exasperated at having their long-concealed haunt at length discovered. There could be no longer any doubt as to who represented the ghosts, nor how they had entered the Tower and so speedily disappeared. The passage was somewhat slippery from the moisture which here and there trickled through the rock, and was clearly not often traversed, which it would have been had the vault above been used as a store-house.It was pretty evident from the words the smugglers had used that their object was to get rid of the inhabitants of the Tower that they might occupy the vaults as a store-house, and have free egress from it for their goods. They had probably hoped, could they have attained their object, to have baffled the revenue officers for years to come. They must have felt that they had been completely defeated, and, either in revenge or in the hopes of making some terms with Captain Askew, had carried off Margery. Still, Charley could not believe, that, savage and lawless as they might be, they would wish to injure the innocent little girl, and was nearly sure that he was on the right track to recover her.Charley now proceeded very cautiously, for he thought it possible that the passage might lead to the edge of a precipice to be descended only by a ladder, and an incautious step in advance might send him tumbling headlong down; and he had the sense to know that people even when engaged in the best of enterprises must guard against accidents and failure, and that they have no right to expect success unless they do their best to secure it. Tom wanted to lead, but Charley would not let him.“No,” he answered, “make fast the rope you’ve got round my waist, then if I slip you’ll haul me up.”Tom did so, and they once more advanced. They had gone some way further when Charley again stopped and listened. He heard a low, murmuring sound—it was that of human voices. He and Tom crept on more cautiously than ever. A gleam of light shone on them as if through a crevice. There was evidently either a door or a curtain hung across the passage. This would enable them perhaps to see what was going on within, before entering. Shading their lantern and making as little noise as possible, they got close up to what seemed to be a door or a number of planks nailed together, and placed so as to lean against the entrance. Charley was afraid that while searching for a hole to look through he might knock it over.At length he found a chink through which he could look into what appeared to be a cavern of some size, but the hole allowed him the command only of a very limited range of vision. In front of him were two men seated on casks at a rough table, made apparently of pieces of wreck. There was a lantern on the table, and they had account-books and some piles of money, with a bottle or two and some tin mugs. From the way in which they were occupied, Charley supposed that they were principal men among the smugglers, settling their accounts. They were both strangers to him. He was afraid to ask Tom whether he knew them, for fear of his voice being heard. The plan he at once formed was to rush out on them, seize and bind them, and hold them as hostages till Margery should be given up; for it did not occur to him that a young lad like himself and a one-armed man were scarcely likely to overpower two stout, hardy ruffians like those before him. He drew Tom back a little distance where it was safe to speak, and asked him if he would make the attempt. The old sailor was ready for anything. It would certainly be a grand matter to capture the leaders of the gang. He only wished that the captain was there to lead them, then there would be no doubt about it.Charley’s chief anxiety was with respect to Margery. If she was in the cavern, and any of their pistols were discharged, she might be hurt. As regarded the risk he and Tom ran, he did not reflect a moment. The outlaws were to be captured, and he had undertaken the task of seizing them if he could.“Now, Tom, are you all ready?” he asked; “I will take the man on the right side, you the man on the left—knock them over and hold our pistols to their heads, while we march them up the passage into the Tower.”“Yes, I’m ready, Mr Charles,” answered Tom. “But leave the gun where we are, it will be only in our way, and I’ll stick to my cutlass. We must be sharp about it, though, for they don’t look like fellows who’d stand child’s-play; and yet I’ve known in the war time, two staunch fellows take a ship out of the hands of a prize crew of ten men: and so I don’t see why we shouldn’t be able to clap into bilboes two big ragamuffins like those there. Come on!”The hearts of the bravest must beat quick when they are about to engage in a desperate struggle with their fellow men. Charley Blount felt his beat a great deal quicker than usual when he and old Tom were about to rush on the two smugglers in the cavern, and, as they hoped, overpower them. They got close up to the door, and pressing with all their might against the upper part, sent it flat down before them on the floor of the cavern, and rushing over it threw themselves instantly on the smugglers, who, astonished at the sudden noise, had not time to rise from their seats when they felt their throats seized, and saw the muzzles of a brace of pistols presented at their heads.Nothing could have been better done, and the two smugglers would have been made prisoners, but at the same moment a dozen stout fellows, who had been sleeping round the cavern, and had sprang to their feet at the noise of the falling door, came round them; the muzzles of the pistols were knocked up, Tom’s going off and the bullet flattening against the roof of the cavern, and they found their arms pinioned, and instead of capturing others were themselves made captives. Charley felt bitterly disappointed and crestfallen, but not for a moment forgetting the object of his expedition, he looked round the cavern for Margery. She was not to be seen. “Where have you carried the little girl to?” he asked; “we came to fetch her. You had no business to carry her off. Take her back to her father and mother, and you may do what you like with us.”“You are von brave young rogue,mon jolie garçon!” exclaimed the man (the captain of a French lugger), whom Charley had seized. “You have no fear, it seems, for ghosts nor for men; but you give me von terrible gripe of my neck. Ah, not you tink we do wid you?”“I don’t know, and don’t care,” answered Charley, recklessly; “only give me back Miss Margery—that’s what I want.”“Ah! is it? She long way from dis,mon garçon,” said the captain, in a mocking tone; “Vould you like go see her?”“Yes, I would,” answered Charley; “and let me tell you that if a hair of her head has been injured, you will all have to pay dearly for it.”“Vary well, vary well,” said the Frenchman, still mocking at Charley; “Ve vill take you wid us, eh?”“Come, enough of this, mounseer,” growled out the other man, who was only then recovering from the effects of the iron grip Tom had taken of his throat. “If we don’t look out, mates, we shall have a whole gang of the coastguard down on us while we stay chattering here. Just settle what’s to be done with the old man and the lad, and then the sooner we are away from here the better.”“Give us up the little girl, and neither coastguard nor police shall molest you if we can help it,” exclaimed Charley.“Then no one is following you?” asked the man.“No,” answered Charley, without thinking of the consequences of his reply.“Then come with me, lads, and we’ll stop up the entrance to our burrow in a way which will give plenty of work to any one to find it!” exclaimed the man; “but we’ll put irons first on the claws of this young fighting-cock and his companion.”The smugglers were deaf to all Charley’s expostulations, and he and Tom speedily found their hands in heavy manacles, which would effectually prevent them from making their escape. Tom did not at first deign even to speak, but now lifting up his manacled hands he exclaimed, “Thank ye, mates, for these pretty gloves; we had intended to put your hands into some like them before the night is over, and just let me advise you, or you’ll be caught as it is.”Charles and Tom were left standing by themselves to indulge in meditation, while one-half of the smugglers hurried off to stop the entrance to the passage, and the other half packed up the goods which lay about the cavern, ready to carry them off.Charley’s meditations were not altogether pleasant, but though grievously disappointed at the failure of his expedition, he kept up his spirits with the hope that something might still turn up to enable him either to see Margery, or to learn where she was. He was, however, greatly concerned with the thought of the additional anxiety Captain and Mrs Askew would feel when he and Tom did not return. “Of course the vault will be explored, and if the smugglers stop up the passage as they intend the entrance to it will not be found, and no one will be able to guess what has become of us.”The smugglers were not long about the work, and as soon as they returned they blindfolded Charley’s and Tom’s eyes, the Captain observing that though they had found their way into the cavern, they should not be able to boast that they knew their way out again. Most of the men were strangers, and by their appearance French; but Charley thought that he recognised the countenances of a few, though as there was but a dim light in the cavern, and they kept out of his way, he could not be certain. As they led him along he heard them muttering in angry tones, and, as he thought, consulting what they should do with him and Tom.“He knows too much already,” said one.“Dead men tell no tales,” growled another.“A slip over the cliff—nothing could be proved against us,” muttered a third.Similar pleasant remarks continued to be made while he was led up and down passages, and, he was convinced, more than once turned completely round, till at last a rope was fastened round his waist, and he felt himself lowered down what he concluded was the side of a cliff, for the wind blew strongly against him. He was then led along the bench to the westward; this he knew by hearing the surf beating on his left hand, and feeling the wind on his left cheek. He heard the footsteps of several people, but he could not ascertain whether Tom was of the party, and he began to be afraid that they were separated from each other. The way was very rough, and he had great difficulty in keeping his feet. The wind too was getting up, and he heard the men grumbling at having to lead him along, and at being unable to embark; from which he concluded that their original intention had been to send him and Tom off to the coast of France with the French captain.After going a considerable distance, the wind still increasing, he found that they turned inland up a steep ravine. He was now in a part of the country with which he was unacquainted, he supposed, but still he endeavoured to remember each turn he took, that if necessary he might be able to retrace his steps. More than once, as he went along, he thought that he heard Tom’s voice, and he was about to shout to him, but the muzzle of a pistol pressed against his cheek, and a hint from a gruff voice, that if he hallooed his brains would be blown out, warned him that it would be wiser to hold his tongue.Poor Charley had never taken so unpleasant a walk in his life; he had attacked the smugglers first certainly, and—though he did not know it, as he had no warrant—in an illegal manner, and they could if they had chosen have brought an action against him and Tom for an assault and battery; but, on the other hand, as they were themselves engaged in illegal transactions, this they could not venture to do, as it would have brought their own misdeeds to light.On the party went, now turning rapidly to the right, now to the left, till Charley felt convinced that they were attempting to mislead him. At last, strong as he was, he was almost ready to drop with fatigue. The men who held him were frequently changed, as if they too were knocked up with their work. Suddenly they stopped, declaring they could go no further, and that there could not be a more convenient place for getting rid of their prisoners.“Heave them over the cliff!” said one, in a low, savage tone. “The water is deep, and they will be soon washed out to sea.”“Not so certain of that,” said another; “better make some stones fast to their feet to sink them.”“Just to prove that they came to their end by foul means!” observed a third with a sneer. “No, no, heave ’em over here, they’ll never speak again after they reach the bottom, and no one will be able to tell but what they fell over of themselves.”This agreeable discussion afforded Charley the first intimation that old Tom was near him, and directly afterwards he heard his voice saying, “Do what you like with me, mates, but let that young lad go free. How would you like to have one of your own boys or young brothers treated as you threaten to treat him? There’s life and work and happiness in him, and you’d just knock it all to pieces for the sake of a paltry revenge. What good can killing the boy do to any of you? Why, I’ll tell you—murder will out, and you’ll all be hanged, every one of you.”“Hold your jaw!” exclaimed one of the smugglers; “we’ve made up our minds, and you’ll both go the same way.”Neither Charley nor Tom were of a disposition to beg for their lives; besides, they believed that if the ruffians had determined to kill them, no entreaties would make them alter their minds. Charley, not to lose precious time, tried to prepare himself for death; he thought of the sins he had committed, and endeavoured to repent of them; he forgave all his enemies, even those who were about to kill him, and then, claiming no merit for anything he had ever done, he cast himself at the feet of One he knew to be full of love, and mighty to save. Such is the way a true Christian and a brave man would prepare himself for that great change which must come on all of us.“Are you going to say your prayers, young man, before we heave you off?” asked a smuggler, in a gruff voice.“I have said them, thank you,” answered Charley, calmly. “Tom, have you said yours? Have you made your peace with Heaven in the only way it can be made?”“Yes, Mr Charles, I’ve done that for many a day. When I first came to live on shore with the captain, ‘Tom,’ says he, ‘we must all die, and as we know not the day we should always be ready,’ so he showed me the way to be ready, and I’ve kept ready ever since.”“Now, friends,” said Tom, addressing the smugglers, “what do you intend to do? I’ve again to tell you that you’ll gain nothing by committing a cruel murder, and you’ll repent of it as long as you live, and longer, far longer.”“Stop his canting mouth, and over the cliff with him! let him preach to the lobsters and crabs if he’s a mind!” exclaimed one of the smugglers, and others joined in the vindictive cry.Charley and Tom on this found themselves dragged along by the shoulders till their feet were over the cliff.“Now, over with them, let them drop!” cried one of the men.“No, no,” exclaimed another, “let them grip on to the edge with their hands. They’ll have time to think about that where they’re going, and pleasant thoughts to them!”This last sally of wit produced a roar of laughter from the savage smugglers who, passing their lives in systematically outraging the laws of their country, seemed no longer to be moved by any of the better feelings of our nature. Still Charley and Tom felt grateful for the few moments of existence allowed them, and clutched the edge of the cliff with all the energy of despair. No sooner had they been lowered into their perilous position than they heard the smugglers, with heartless indifference to the agony they were suffering, moving off, some actually laughing, as if enjoying their misery, though none of them apparently were so utterly inhuman as to wait to see them dashed to pieces by their fall.Charley, light and strong, felt that he could hold on for some time, but at the same time was afraid of struggling and endeavouring to get up on the cliff lest he should lose his gripe altogether. Tom had stuck his hook into the earth, but he in the same way knew that in attempting to climb up on to the top of the cliff, he might slip, and fall to the bottom. Their hope was that somebody might come by and help them, but that was very unlikely.“Hold on, Mr Charles, hold on, my lad!” cried Tom. “If I could but just get the point of a rock to put my knee on, I would soon be on the firm ground and have you safe in a moment.”“I’m doing my best to hold on,” answered Charles, “but the edge is terribly crumbling; I would make the attempt to get up, but I am nearly certain that I should fail.”“Then don’t try, Mr Charles,” said Tom, “I’ll shout, and may be one of the coastguard men or somebody else will hear us. Help, ahoy! help! help ahoy!” he shouted in a voice which age had not weakened, and which might have been heard nearly half a mile off, had any one been near enough.Charley then joined him in shouting, but no answer came, and Charley felt as a person does in a dreadful dream, every instant growing weaker and weaker.“Tom, I don’t think that I can hold on many seconds longer,” he at last said; “good-bye—I must let go—the earth is crumbling away—I am going—oh?”At that instant Tom, feeling that Charley’s safety depended on his being able to get on the ground above, made a desperate effort—his hook became loosened, in vain he tried to dig his fingers into the earth, and at the same moment that Charley gave his last despairing cry and lost his hold he lost his; down he came, but not as he expected, on the hard rock a hundred feet below him, but into a shallow pool not five feet from where he had been so long hanging.“Why, where am I?” exclaimed Charley, who, at the same time, had lodged safely on a green mound close to the pool, and tearing off the handkerchief from his eyes he looked about him; “after all, those smugglers are not so bad as we thought them.”“We are at the bottom of a chalk-pit, Mr Charles,” answered Tom, “the fellows have played us a somewhat scurvy trick, but I cannot but say that it was better than sending us over the cliff and breaking our necks; howsomdever, the sooner we get out of it the better as I’m wet to the skin, and would like to take a brisk walk homeward to get dry.”A bright moon was shining, though obscured occasionally by the fast driving clouds which came up from the south-west, and by its light they had no difficulty in clambering out of the pit. They were on the top of some downs, at some distance from the edge of the cliff. However, they could see the now foam-covered sea, and distinguish vessels far off running up the Channel before the gale, and thus could take a tolerably direct road homeward, though neither of them had before been thus far from the Tower. They hurried on, being certain that the smugglers could not leave the coast, and hoping that even if one could be captured he would give information where Margery was to be found.“Margery! poor dear little Margery, she to be all this time in the power of these ruffians!” Charley kept saying to himself as he and Tom hurried on.
As soon as Charley was joined by Tom, he commenced a more thorough examination of the vault; but no outlets could they discover, and they began to doubt whether their nocturnal visitors could have got through it into the Tower. Could there be another passage independent altogether of the vault? They went round and round and could find no door or trap, or opening of any sort.
“I doubt if we are right, after all,” observed Charley; “we must try and find some other way down—for way there is, of that I am certain.”
“We are right; still, though,” answered Tom, “that ladder has had other feet on it of late besides ours; and just let me see how the bolt of the trap-door could have been fastened from below if there wasn’t some one to do it. It wasn’t the ghosteses, I suppose, Mister Charles? and look here—what’s this?” he added, as stooping down he picked up another small slipper, the fellow to the one which was known to be Margery’s.
The sight of it induced Charley to renew his search, and directly afterwards he discovered in one of the cells a ring, which looked, he thought, as if it was intended to serve as a handle to a stone door. He pulled it with all his strength, and slowly turning on a pair of heavy rusty hinges it opened, and showed a flight of steps cut in the rock, and leading downwards.
“Come along,” he whispered to Tom, “we shall soon solve the mystery.”
He led, Tom following, and holding the lantern with a torch ready to light at the end of his hook arm, while he held a pistol in his other hand. At first they descended by very steep steps cut in the rock, then the passage was almost on a level and turned and twisted considerably, showing that it had been formed in the first place by nature, and had been simply enlarged by the hand of man.
Charley was, however, thinking all the time far more of little Margery, and how frightened she must have been when carried along it, than of the way in which the passage had been formed. He was expecting also every instant to find himself confronted by a number of fierce smugglers, who would naturally be exasperated at having their long-concealed haunt at length discovered. There could be no longer any doubt as to who represented the ghosts, nor how they had entered the Tower and so speedily disappeared. The passage was somewhat slippery from the moisture which here and there trickled through the rock, and was clearly not often traversed, which it would have been had the vault above been used as a store-house.
It was pretty evident from the words the smugglers had used that their object was to get rid of the inhabitants of the Tower that they might occupy the vaults as a store-house, and have free egress from it for their goods. They had probably hoped, could they have attained their object, to have baffled the revenue officers for years to come. They must have felt that they had been completely defeated, and, either in revenge or in the hopes of making some terms with Captain Askew, had carried off Margery. Still, Charley could not believe, that, savage and lawless as they might be, they would wish to injure the innocent little girl, and was nearly sure that he was on the right track to recover her.
Charley now proceeded very cautiously, for he thought it possible that the passage might lead to the edge of a precipice to be descended only by a ladder, and an incautious step in advance might send him tumbling headlong down; and he had the sense to know that people even when engaged in the best of enterprises must guard against accidents and failure, and that they have no right to expect success unless they do their best to secure it. Tom wanted to lead, but Charley would not let him.
“No,” he answered, “make fast the rope you’ve got round my waist, then if I slip you’ll haul me up.”
Tom did so, and they once more advanced. They had gone some way further when Charley again stopped and listened. He heard a low, murmuring sound—it was that of human voices. He and Tom crept on more cautiously than ever. A gleam of light shone on them as if through a crevice. There was evidently either a door or a curtain hung across the passage. This would enable them perhaps to see what was going on within, before entering. Shading their lantern and making as little noise as possible, they got close up to what seemed to be a door or a number of planks nailed together, and placed so as to lean against the entrance. Charley was afraid that while searching for a hole to look through he might knock it over.
At length he found a chink through which he could look into what appeared to be a cavern of some size, but the hole allowed him the command only of a very limited range of vision. In front of him were two men seated on casks at a rough table, made apparently of pieces of wreck. There was a lantern on the table, and they had account-books and some piles of money, with a bottle or two and some tin mugs. From the way in which they were occupied, Charley supposed that they were principal men among the smugglers, settling their accounts. They were both strangers to him. He was afraid to ask Tom whether he knew them, for fear of his voice being heard. The plan he at once formed was to rush out on them, seize and bind them, and hold them as hostages till Margery should be given up; for it did not occur to him that a young lad like himself and a one-armed man were scarcely likely to overpower two stout, hardy ruffians like those before him. He drew Tom back a little distance where it was safe to speak, and asked him if he would make the attempt. The old sailor was ready for anything. It would certainly be a grand matter to capture the leaders of the gang. He only wished that the captain was there to lead them, then there would be no doubt about it.
Charley’s chief anxiety was with respect to Margery. If she was in the cavern, and any of their pistols were discharged, she might be hurt. As regarded the risk he and Tom ran, he did not reflect a moment. The outlaws were to be captured, and he had undertaken the task of seizing them if he could.
“Now, Tom, are you all ready?” he asked; “I will take the man on the right side, you the man on the left—knock them over and hold our pistols to their heads, while we march them up the passage into the Tower.”
“Yes, I’m ready, Mr Charles,” answered Tom. “But leave the gun where we are, it will be only in our way, and I’ll stick to my cutlass. We must be sharp about it, though, for they don’t look like fellows who’d stand child’s-play; and yet I’ve known in the war time, two staunch fellows take a ship out of the hands of a prize crew of ten men: and so I don’t see why we shouldn’t be able to clap into bilboes two big ragamuffins like those there. Come on!”
The hearts of the bravest must beat quick when they are about to engage in a desperate struggle with their fellow men. Charley Blount felt his beat a great deal quicker than usual when he and old Tom were about to rush on the two smugglers in the cavern, and, as they hoped, overpower them. They got close up to the door, and pressing with all their might against the upper part, sent it flat down before them on the floor of the cavern, and rushing over it threw themselves instantly on the smugglers, who, astonished at the sudden noise, had not time to rise from their seats when they felt their throats seized, and saw the muzzles of a brace of pistols presented at their heads.
Nothing could have been better done, and the two smugglers would have been made prisoners, but at the same moment a dozen stout fellows, who had been sleeping round the cavern, and had sprang to their feet at the noise of the falling door, came round them; the muzzles of the pistols were knocked up, Tom’s going off and the bullet flattening against the roof of the cavern, and they found their arms pinioned, and instead of capturing others were themselves made captives. Charley felt bitterly disappointed and crestfallen, but not for a moment forgetting the object of his expedition, he looked round the cavern for Margery. She was not to be seen. “Where have you carried the little girl to?” he asked; “we came to fetch her. You had no business to carry her off. Take her back to her father and mother, and you may do what you like with us.”
“You are von brave young rogue,mon jolie garçon!” exclaimed the man (the captain of a French lugger), whom Charley had seized. “You have no fear, it seems, for ghosts nor for men; but you give me von terrible gripe of my neck. Ah, not you tink we do wid you?”
“I don’t know, and don’t care,” answered Charley, recklessly; “only give me back Miss Margery—that’s what I want.”
“Ah! is it? She long way from dis,mon garçon,” said the captain, in a mocking tone; “Vould you like go see her?”
“Yes, I would,” answered Charley; “and let me tell you that if a hair of her head has been injured, you will all have to pay dearly for it.”
“Vary well, vary well,” said the Frenchman, still mocking at Charley; “Ve vill take you wid us, eh?”
“Come, enough of this, mounseer,” growled out the other man, who was only then recovering from the effects of the iron grip Tom had taken of his throat. “If we don’t look out, mates, we shall have a whole gang of the coastguard down on us while we stay chattering here. Just settle what’s to be done with the old man and the lad, and then the sooner we are away from here the better.”
“Give us up the little girl, and neither coastguard nor police shall molest you if we can help it,” exclaimed Charley.
“Then no one is following you?” asked the man.
“No,” answered Charley, without thinking of the consequences of his reply.
“Then come with me, lads, and we’ll stop up the entrance to our burrow in a way which will give plenty of work to any one to find it!” exclaimed the man; “but we’ll put irons first on the claws of this young fighting-cock and his companion.”
The smugglers were deaf to all Charley’s expostulations, and he and Tom speedily found their hands in heavy manacles, which would effectually prevent them from making their escape. Tom did not at first deign even to speak, but now lifting up his manacled hands he exclaimed, “Thank ye, mates, for these pretty gloves; we had intended to put your hands into some like them before the night is over, and just let me advise you, or you’ll be caught as it is.”
Charles and Tom were left standing by themselves to indulge in meditation, while one-half of the smugglers hurried off to stop the entrance to the passage, and the other half packed up the goods which lay about the cavern, ready to carry them off.
Charley’s meditations were not altogether pleasant, but though grievously disappointed at the failure of his expedition, he kept up his spirits with the hope that something might still turn up to enable him either to see Margery, or to learn where she was. He was, however, greatly concerned with the thought of the additional anxiety Captain and Mrs Askew would feel when he and Tom did not return. “Of course the vault will be explored, and if the smugglers stop up the passage as they intend the entrance to it will not be found, and no one will be able to guess what has become of us.”
The smugglers were not long about the work, and as soon as they returned they blindfolded Charley’s and Tom’s eyes, the Captain observing that though they had found their way into the cavern, they should not be able to boast that they knew their way out again. Most of the men were strangers, and by their appearance French; but Charley thought that he recognised the countenances of a few, though as there was but a dim light in the cavern, and they kept out of his way, he could not be certain. As they led him along he heard them muttering in angry tones, and, as he thought, consulting what they should do with him and Tom.
“He knows too much already,” said one.
“Dead men tell no tales,” growled another.
“A slip over the cliff—nothing could be proved against us,” muttered a third.
Similar pleasant remarks continued to be made while he was led up and down passages, and, he was convinced, more than once turned completely round, till at last a rope was fastened round his waist, and he felt himself lowered down what he concluded was the side of a cliff, for the wind blew strongly against him. He was then led along the bench to the westward; this he knew by hearing the surf beating on his left hand, and feeling the wind on his left cheek. He heard the footsteps of several people, but he could not ascertain whether Tom was of the party, and he began to be afraid that they were separated from each other. The way was very rough, and he had great difficulty in keeping his feet. The wind too was getting up, and he heard the men grumbling at having to lead him along, and at being unable to embark; from which he concluded that their original intention had been to send him and Tom off to the coast of France with the French captain.
After going a considerable distance, the wind still increasing, he found that they turned inland up a steep ravine. He was now in a part of the country with which he was unacquainted, he supposed, but still he endeavoured to remember each turn he took, that if necessary he might be able to retrace his steps. More than once, as he went along, he thought that he heard Tom’s voice, and he was about to shout to him, but the muzzle of a pistol pressed against his cheek, and a hint from a gruff voice, that if he hallooed his brains would be blown out, warned him that it would be wiser to hold his tongue.
Poor Charley had never taken so unpleasant a walk in his life; he had attacked the smugglers first certainly, and—though he did not know it, as he had no warrant—in an illegal manner, and they could if they had chosen have brought an action against him and Tom for an assault and battery; but, on the other hand, as they were themselves engaged in illegal transactions, this they could not venture to do, as it would have brought their own misdeeds to light.
On the party went, now turning rapidly to the right, now to the left, till Charley felt convinced that they were attempting to mislead him. At last, strong as he was, he was almost ready to drop with fatigue. The men who held him were frequently changed, as if they too were knocked up with their work. Suddenly they stopped, declaring they could go no further, and that there could not be a more convenient place for getting rid of their prisoners.
“Heave them over the cliff!” said one, in a low, savage tone. “The water is deep, and they will be soon washed out to sea.”
“Not so certain of that,” said another; “better make some stones fast to their feet to sink them.”
“Just to prove that they came to their end by foul means!” observed a third with a sneer. “No, no, heave ’em over here, they’ll never speak again after they reach the bottom, and no one will be able to tell but what they fell over of themselves.”
This agreeable discussion afforded Charley the first intimation that old Tom was near him, and directly afterwards he heard his voice saying, “Do what you like with me, mates, but let that young lad go free. How would you like to have one of your own boys or young brothers treated as you threaten to treat him? There’s life and work and happiness in him, and you’d just knock it all to pieces for the sake of a paltry revenge. What good can killing the boy do to any of you? Why, I’ll tell you—murder will out, and you’ll all be hanged, every one of you.”
“Hold your jaw!” exclaimed one of the smugglers; “we’ve made up our minds, and you’ll both go the same way.”
Neither Charley nor Tom were of a disposition to beg for their lives; besides, they believed that if the ruffians had determined to kill them, no entreaties would make them alter their minds. Charley, not to lose precious time, tried to prepare himself for death; he thought of the sins he had committed, and endeavoured to repent of them; he forgave all his enemies, even those who were about to kill him, and then, claiming no merit for anything he had ever done, he cast himself at the feet of One he knew to be full of love, and mighty to save. Such is the way a true Christian and a brave man would prepare himself for that great change which must come on all of us.
“Are you going to say your prayers, young man, before we heave you off?” asked a smuggler, in a gruff voice.
“I have said them, thank you,” answered Charley, calmly. “Tom, have you said yours? Have you made your peace with Heaven in the only way it can be made?”
“Yes, Mr Charles, I’ve done that for many a day. When I first came to live on shore with the captain, ‘Tom,’ says he, ‘we must all die, and as we know not the day we should always be ready,’ so he showed me the way to be ready, and I’ve kept ready ever since.”
“Now, friends,” said Tom, addressing the smugglers, “what do you intend to do? I’ve again to tell you that you’ll gain nothing by committing a cruel murder, and you’ll repent of it as long as you live, and longer, far longer.”
“Stop his canting mouth, and over the cliff with him! let him preach to the lobsters and crabs if he’s a mind!” exclaimed one of the smugglers, and others joined in the vindictive cry.
Charley and Tom on this found themselves dragged along by the shoulders till their feet were over the cliff.
“Now, over with them, let them drop!” cried one of the men.
“No, no,” exclaimed another, “let them grip on to the edge with their hands. They’ll have time to think about that where they’re going, and pleasant thoughts to them!”
This last sally of wit produced a roar of laughter from the savage smugglers who, passing their lives in systematically outraging the laws of their country, seemed no longer to be moved by any of the better feelings of our nature. Still Charley and Tom felt grateful for the few moments of existence allowed them, and clutched the edge of the cliff with all the energy of despair. No sooner had they been lowered into their perilous position than they heard the smugglers, with heartless indifference to the agony they were suffering, moving off, some actually laughing, as if enjoying their misery, though none of them apparently were so utterly inhuman as to wait to see them dashed to pieces by their fall.
Charley, light and strong, felt that he could hold on for some time, but at the same time was afraid of struggling and endeavouring to get up on the cliff lest he should lose his gripe altogether. Tom had stuck his hook into the earth, but he in the same way knew that in attempting to climb up on to the top of the cliff, he might slip, and fall to the bottom. Their hope was that somebody might come by and help them, but that was very unlikely.
“Hold on, Mr Charles, hold on, my lad!” cried Tom. “If I could but just get the point of a rock to put my knee on, I would soon be on the firm ground and have you safe in a moment.”
“I’m doing my best to hold on,” answered Charles, “but the edge is terribly crumbling; I would make the attempt to get up, but I am nearly certain that I should fail.”
“Then don’t try, Mr Charles,” said Tom, “I’ll shout, and may be one of the coastguard men or somebody else will hear us. Help, ahoy! help! help ahoy!” he shouted in a voice which age had not weakened, and which might have been heard nearly half a mile off, had any one been near enough.
Charley then joined him in shouting, but no answer came, and Charley felt as a person does in a dreadful dream, every instant growing weaker and weaker.
“Tom, I don’t think that I can hold on many seconds longer,” he at last said; “good-bye—I must let go—the earth is crumbling away—I am going—oh?”
At that instant Tom, feeling that Charley’s safety depended on his being able to get on the ground above, made a desperate effort—his hook became loosened, in vain he tried to dig his fingers into the earth, and at the same moment that Charley gave his last despairing cry and lost his hold he lost his; down he came, but not as he expected, on the hard rock a hundred feet below him, but into a shallow pool not five feet from where he had been so long hanging.
“Why, where am I?” exclaimed Charley, who, at the same time, had lodged safely on a green mound close to the pool, and tearing off the handkerchief from his eyes he looked about him; “after all, those smugglers are not so bad as we thought them.”
“We are at the bottom of a chalk-pit, Mr Charles,” answered Tom, “the fellows have played us a somewhat scurvy trick, but I cannot but say that it was better than sending us over the cliff and breaking our necks; howsomdever, the sooner we get out of it the better as I’m wet to the skin, and would like to take a brisk walk homeward to get dry.”
A bright moon was shining, though obscured occasionally by the fast driving clouds which came up from the south-west, and by its light they had no difficulty in clambering out of the pit. They were on the top of some downs, at some distance from the edge of the cliff. However, they could see the now foam-covered sea, and distinguish vessels far off running up the Channel before the gale, and thus could take a tolerably direct road homeward, though neither of them had before been thus far from the Tower. They hurried on, being certain that the smugglers could not leave the coast, and hoping that even if one could be captured he would give information where Margery was to be found.
“Margery! poor dear little Margery, she to be all this time in the power of these ruffians!” Charley kept saying to himself as he and Tom hurried on.
Chapter Nine.A Friend in Need—Margery escapes—Margery’s Mission.Tom and Charley had gone through so much that they could not calculate at all what hour of the night it then was. They had not noted the hour when they commenced their adventure, but remembered that it was then daylight; they had had no dinner, and they felt very hungry. They were hurrying along a path which led through a hollow, when on the hill above them they saw a female figure. She stopped and looked about, either to find the path or in expectation of some one. What could she want at that hour of the night, in so lone a place? They were under the shadow of a stone wall, and she evidently did not see them. They hesitated whether to remain concealed, as it occurred to both that her appearance there was in some way or other connected with the smugglers. However, after waiting a minute, she came down the hill with the light step of a young girl; when, catching sight of them, instead of retreating she came boldly forward. “Oh, Tom, oh, Mr Charles, I am so glad to see you all right!” she exclaimed, as she got near enough for them to recognise the features of Polly Herring, the smuggler’s daughter. “I heard that something dreadful was going to happen, and I came along to try and stop it.”“And you thought, Polly, that your father was in it, and may be James Trevany, and you did not wish them to get into trouble. Was not that it, Polly?”“Yes! Tom, that was one reason,” answered the girl, frankly; “another was that I wanted to save you and Mister Charles from coming to harm; and now I’ll ask you, if father or James get into trouble, to speak a good word to the captain to help them out of it.”“The captain is a just man, and will return kindness with kindness, no doubt of that,” answered Tom. “But I say, Polly, if any one can find out where Miss Margery is, you can, for I am as certain as I stand here that your father, or James, or some of your friends, had a hand in carrying her off. Come, speak the truth, girl; you’ll gain more by helping us to find her than by any other way.”“Yes! it was a cruel shame to carry her away,” she muttered, in a low voice; “but I dare not indeed I dare not.”“Dare not do what, Polly?” asked Tom, in a soothing tone.“Tell where she is, or help you to get her,” answered the girl, promptly.“Then you do know where she is, Polly, and may be who took her away, and all about her,” said Tom. “Now what I’ve got to say is this, that just do you do what’s right, and never do you fear what any one can do to you.”The girl still hesitated.“Just let me ask you a question, Polly,” continued Tom. “Is your father in trouble, or James? Tell me that.”“Yes! the revenue men have got some information against them, and are after them both.”“Then depend on’t, Polly, the best thing for them is to give up Miss Margery before they are caught,” said Tom; “they’ll gain nothing by giving her up afterwards. The law doesn’t make terms with people.”“But they’re terrible people who’ve got her,” answered Polly. “They’d as soon shoot you, or me, or anybody, as look at us, if we came near them.”“We don’t fear terrible men,” said Tom, laughing, “just do you put us in the way of getting back Miss Margery, and we’ll say as many good words as we can for thy father, Polly, and for James too, if he needs them.”“But you’ll do no harm to those who have got her, and all you’ll say is that Polly Herring, Dick Herring’s daughter, helped you to get her back,” said the girl, in a tone which showed that she still feared the consequences of what she was about to do.Charley had not before spoken, but he now thanked her, and urged her to lose no time in restoring Margery to them.“Come on, then,” she said, in a firm voice; “it’s a long way from here, but you may be there and back at the Tower with the little girl before daybreak.” These words made Charley’s affectionate heart beat with joy. Polly added, however, “We must be careful, though, for if we were to fall in with any of our people it would go hard with you and me too.”Polly had well-knit limbs, and, being accustomed to active exercise, led the way at a rapid rate. She seemed well acquainted with the road, for she never stopped or hesitated as to which path to take, and Charley soon totally lost the direction in which he was going, and Tom had no little difficulty in keeping up with her.They had thus gone on for some distance, when Polly stopped and stood as if listening.“I hear some coming; we must hide, and quick too, for if they are those I fancy, and they catch us, our lives are not worth much.”A high bank with a hedge on the top of it was on one side, and as she spoke she led the way through a gap, and the adventurers found themselves perfectly concealed from any one passing along the road. Scarcely had they got behind the hedge, when a party of five or six men appeared, talking in subdued tones, but high enough to allow some of their words to be heard. They were uttering oaths and breathing vengeance against the revenue officers and others, by whom their plans had been defeated. From the mood they were in, Charley felt that it would have been very unpleasant to have again encountered them. Polly waited for some time before she ventured into the road, and then she led on, without speaking, as fast as ever. The ground became very rough, and they went up and down hill till the sound of the surf told that they were once more approaching the sea.As they were ascending a steep, rocky hill, covered with loose stones, a light appeared before them. They crept on cautiously, imitating Polly’s way of proceeding.“They have taken her there,” she whispered, pointing to a cottage, the dim outline of which could be seen. “This very night, if the weather had been fine, they would have carried her across the Channel. There’s no time to lose, for they won’t let her stay long, and if we don’t get her to-day, to-morrow she may be far off from this.”Again she moved on, till she reached a low stone wall, which formed a fence to the garden of the house. “Stay still as death here,” she whispered. “There’s a terrible woman lives there. If she was to find out what I was about she’d kill me though I am her own flesh and blood, and you too, and, may be, in her rage, the little girl too.” Saying this, Polly stole on towards the cottage.Charley had expected that he should have been called on to run some personal risk, and to carry off Margery from the grasp of half-a-dozen fierce smugglers or so, and he felt somewhat disappointed at the inactive part he was called on to play. From the words Polly had dropped he guessed that the cottage was the one inhabited by old Dame Herring, who was looked upon by the inhabitants of the country for miles round as a witch, and known to be a very bad character. She took advantage of her evil reputation, and practised on the credulity of the people. It is not necessary to mention her bad practices. A few years before she would very probably have been burnt as a witch; she now ran a risk of being ducked in a horse-pond.Polly seemed to be a long time absent. Tom had the gift of patience, and was accustomed to wait, and so, though he was fully as anxious as Charley to have Margery safe under his charge, he made no complaint; but Charley began to lose patience, and to wonder what could have become of Polly, contemplating even going to look for her. Those who have had experience in life know that it is much more difficult to wait for an event than to rush forward to meet it; passive courage is therefore often the greatest. Still, when difficulties occur, the wisest course is boldly to face them at once. To the eyes of the multitude the soldier who rushes onward into the thickest of the fight may appear the bravest, and yet he may be a positive coward, urged forward by despair. The truly brave is he who can stand undaunted to meet the shock of the onset. Charley had to wait and wait till his patience was taxed to the utmost. At length his ear caught a light footstep approaching, and Polly came up to him. “I couldn’t get the little girl out, for she is shut up in a room by herself,” she whispered. “I had to wait till they were all asleep, and then I crept out to tell you. Still, I think if you are careful you may manage to get her. I will show you the window of the room where she is shut up, and if you can climb in and awake her without making any noise you may do it; but understand that there are several men sleeping in the cottage with loaded pistols under their heads, which they are very quick to use; and remember that the slightest noise will alarm them. Come along, but you must wait ten minutes to let me get into the cottage before you begin your business.”Charley and Tom, of course, promised to attend to Polly’s injunctions, and eagerly followed her through the garden to the back of the cottage. She showed them the window, which seemed a very small one, about eight feet from the ground; and then, with her finger on her lips, disappeared round the corner. Charley waited what he considered a very long ten minutes, but Tom, who could calculate better, held him tight, as a sign that it was not yet time to move, and at last bent his back with his head against the wall, and signed to him to get on the top of it. This Charley did with alacrity, and grasping the window-sill, drew himself up till he got his knees on it, and he was then able without noise to open one side of the lattice window. There was barely room for him to creep through, but he managed to do so without making any noise, and at length he stood inside. He looked round anxiously into the room. At that moment a gleam of moonlight burst through the passing clouds, and showed him a small bed, and Margery, completely dressed, sleeping soundly and peaceably on it. He was afraid if he awakened her suddenly she might speak or cry out; so taking off his shoes he crept softly up to her, and kissing her brow, whispered low in her ear, “Margery, Margery, don’t speak—a friend—Charley has come for you, to take you home.”She opened her eyes, which Charley could see, for the moonbeam cast its light directly on her countenance; a sweet smile came across it, and he thought that she had never looked more lovely; but she evidently thought that she was dreaming.“Dear Margery, wake up; Charley has come to take you away from this place,” he repeated.“Is it possible?” she asked, in the same low voice in which he spoke, and took his hand. The touch assured her.“Yes, yes! I am ready; oh, thank you, thank you!”Charley helped her to rise, and to step softly across the room. He then got through the window, and holding on, as only a sailor or a cat could, to nothing, helped her through and lifted her down to Tom, who couldn’t refrain from giving her a hearty kiss in his joy at recovering her. Charley then put on his shoes, and dropped noiselessly to the ground. “They brought me here without shoes, and would give me none for fear I should run away,” she whispered; “but I will try to walk without them.”“Not for worlds, Margery,” answered Charley. “We’ll carry you all the way, never fear.”“Aye, aye, Miss Margery,” said Tom; “I’ve carried you many a mile when you was a baby and you was no heavier than a feather, and I’ve still strength left in my old arms to carry you now that you are a young lady nearly grown, I may say.”Margery could only murmur her thanks, as Tom bore her in his arms across the garden and down the hill at a rapid rate, Charley bringing up the rear, and ready to do battle should they be pursued.Polly had so far proved faithful, and Charley hoped sincerely that the part she had played in the affair might not be discovered by her associates. Still, he cast many an anxious glance behind him as they descended the steep, rough hill side, lest any of the smugglers should have been aroused, and have come in pursuit. Their chief difficulty was to find the way; but they guessed pretty correctly the direction of the Tower, the moon still affording them the assistance of her light. They did not even stop to rest, Tom declaring that Miss Margery was still almost as light as a feather, if not quite as light as when she was a baby. They had thus made good progress, when Charley said that he heard footsteps.“May be,” answered Tom; “but they must be stout fellows who will dare to take our Miss Margery from us.”“I am not at all afraid of anybody now,” said Margery. “I am sure, Charley, that you and Tom would not let them take me from you.” Charley of course promised that no one should, and as they did not believe that any smugglers would venture to interfere with them, should any be met, they continued their course. However, before they had gone much further, two very suspicious-looking personages overtook them and asked various questions, as to whence they had come and where they were going.“Easily answered, mates,” said Tom; “we are coming from the place we last stopped at, and we are going home, and our business is nobody else’s, do ye see?”Whatever had been the intentions of the men, Tom’s firm bearing, and Charley’s determined air, as he brought up the rear, following Tom as a bull-terrier does the heels of his master, ready to fly at any one venturing to interfere with him, made them alter their purpose.“I thought as how those piratical craft would sheer off if we showed a bold front,” said Tom, as the men turned down a lane on one side. “It’s a great point to show an enemy that you are wide awake and not afraid of him. Mind you that, Master Charley. There’s a great enemy, too, who is always going about seeking whom he may devour; and if he finds that we are prepared for him, and know how to resist him, he’ll be off like a shot.”At length the door of the Tower was reached. Becky, who opened it, instead of welcoming them as they might naturally have expected that she would, stared wildly at them, and then throwing her apron over her head ran back screaming, “There are ghosts—there are ghosts—there are ghosts at the door!”“No we ain’t,” said Tom, bluntly, as he entered; “but we’ve brought back Miss Margery all right, and she’ll be glad of some grub presently, and so shall we by and by I’m thinking,—eh, Master Charley? But just do you first, as soon as you have got your five senses back, run up and tell the captain and missis. They’ll not be sorry to hear the news, at all events.”In another minute Margery was in her parents’ arms, and they were thanking Heaven that she had been safely restored to them.Little Margery had kept up her courage wonderfully, from the moment she was seized till her return home. She said that she was awake and thought that she saw Becky collecting her clothes, when suddenly she was taken up in the arms of a woman; she supposed her mouth was gagged and her eyes blinded, and she was carried swiftly along, down into some damp place and along passages into the open air, and finally into the cottage where Charley had found her. She had had no fear about being ill treated, for she did not think any one would hurt a little girl like herself. She was very grateful, however, to Charley and Tom for all the risk they had run to rescue her.Tom and Charley’s adventures created great surprise, for the captain could not conceive how they could have got out of the vaults; and it was not until they had all together paid another visit to it that they discovered the aperture lately blocked up with loose stones, and then at length guessed that it had been done by the smugglers to cut off pursuit. The result of the whole proceeding was the very reverse of what the smugglers had expected. In their foolish ignorance they fancied that they could frighten away a sensible man, like Captain Askew, from the Tower by their notable scheme of making it be supposed that it was haunted.We may be surprised at their gross representations of ghosts and spirits, but which were undoubtedly exact imitations of their own conceptions of such things; nor does it at all follow, that because some of them ventured to appear in the character of ghosts, they did not firmly believe in their existence. Probably their own superstitious fears would as easily have been worked on as they hoped to work on those of others.A considerable amount of the property of the gang, which they had not time to remove, was seized when they left their chief stronghold and place of rendezvous on the coast, where they had long defied the vigilance of the revenue officers, and many of them were driven away from the coast. The entrance to the cave from the sea was carefully blocked up, so that no one could again undermine the Tower, and attempt to play off such tricks on the inmates.Mr Ludlow, accompanied by Stephen, rode over to the Tower to congratulate his tenants on the recovery of their daughter. “I am very glad to see the young lady back, and safe, and well; but,” he added, “I have a bone to pick with her. What do you think, captain? She has actually been endeavouring to persuade my only son to go to sea, that he may spend his life in searching for your poor boy, whom she asserts is still alive in some island of the Pacific, either in consequence of reading a child’s book, or from some cock-and-bull story which she heard from an old sailor one day, who was never afterwards to be found to corroborate the truth of his narrative. I wish bygones to be bygones, and I would rather not have alluded to the subject, but I really do not know what powerful influence she may exert over him, though I cannot say that at present he has any fancy for the undertaking; but I wish, at all events, to nip the project in the bud.”As may be supposed, Captain Askew was not a little astonished at this address, while he could not but be sensible of the want of feeling of the man who could thus coldly speak of his long-lost son, that son who had been banished in consequence of Mr Ludlow’s own stern decree. “I was not aware that my little Margery entertained any such notion,” he answered mildly. “Did she, I should have supposed that your son, Stephen, however much she may esteem him as a friend, was the very last person she would have selected for the scheme.”“Oh, the foolish boy lent her a book, a copy, I believe, of Defoe’s ‘Robinson Crusoe,’ and as he describes a person living on an island for a number of years by himself, she has taken it into her head that her brother may have escaped shipwreck, and be still alive on one of the many islands which I understand stud parts of the Pacific.”“I have only to repeat that my daughter has not mentioned the subject to me, and I will undertake that she does not induce your son to act contrary to your wishes,” answered Captain Askew.“Very well, neighbour, I will trust to your word,” said Mr Ludlow, in his usual supercilious manner, which, to a man of a temper less mild than the captain, would have been very galling. “I, of course, have other designs for him than to lead the life of a sailor.”When Mr Ludlow and Stephen had taken their departure, he could not help repeating to himself, “he may be alive on one of the many islands which stud parts of the Pacific. The sailor’s story may be true, or it may be only dear Margery’s fancy. It is but natural that she should indulge in it; I would that I had health and strength, and the means to go out and search for the dear boy—dear whether alive or dead.”That evening the captain spoke of their boy to his wife. He would not venture to raise her hopes. He scarcely hinted at the possibility of his having escaped from the wreck, and yet he spoke of such things having happened to others. Margaret’s reply was, “God’s will be done. He knows what is kept for us in all respects.”In the meantime, Stephen had told Margery that his father objected decidedly to his becoming a sailor, that he might go and look for her brother Jack; an announcement which the young lady received with much dignity, and an expression of contempt on her pretty countenance which it was not wont to wear.“Of course, Mr Stephen Ludlow, you are right in doing what your father wishes,” she observed; “and now I think over the matter you are not at all fitted to become a sailor. Sailors are true friends—generous, brave, kind, and liberal; I was mistaken when I supposed that you were likely to possess those qualities. Good-bye. I do not want to quarrel with you, but now you know what I think.”Margery was not aware how severe her words might have sounded. Stephen did not fully understand their meaning, but he felt very sheepish, and had an idea that it would probably be some time before he again paid a visit to Stormount Tower. Margery had, however, far from abandoned her idea. She had for some time naturally thought that Charley Blount would be the proper person to perform her behests, and she felt certain that he would very gladly undertake the task she might assign him. She put the matter before him, and to her great delight he at once undertook her mission.“I cannot say that your brother Jack is alive,” he observed; “but this I promise, that if he is I will do my utmost to find him and bring him home.”
Tom and Charley had gone through so much that they could not calculate at all what hour of the night it then was. They had not noted the hour when they commenced their adventure, but remembered that it was then daylight; they had had no dinner, and they felt very hungry. They were hurrying along a path which led through a hollow, when on the hill above them they saw a female figure. She stopped and looked about, either to find the path or in expectation of some one. What could she want at that hour of the night, in so lone a place? They were under the shadow of a stone wall, and she evidently did not see them. They hesitated whether to remain concealed, as it occurred to both that her appearance there was in some way or other connected with the smugglers. However, after waiting a minute, she came down the hill with the light step of a young girl; when, catching sight of them, instead of retreating she came boldly forward. “Oh, Tom, oh, Mr Charles, I am so glad to see you all right!” she exclaimed, as she got near enough for them to recognise the features of Polly Herring, the smuggler’s daughter. “I heard that something dreadful was going to happen, and I came along to try and stop it.”
“And you thought, Polly, that your father was in it, and may be James Trevany, and you did not wish them to get into trouble. Was not that it, Polly?”
“Yes! Tom, that was one reason,” answered the girl, frankly; “another was that I wanted to save you and Mister Charles from coming to harm; and now I’ll ask you, if father or James get into trouble, to speak a good word to the captain to help them out of it.”
“The captain is a just man, and will return kindness with kindness, no doubt of that,” answered Tom. “But I say, Polly, if any one can find out where Miss Margery is, you can, for I am as certain as I stand here that your father, or James, or some of your friends, had a hand in carrying her off. Come, speak the truth, girl; you’ll gain more by helping us to find her than by any other way.”
“Yes! it was a cruel shame to carry her away,” she muttered, in a low voice; “but I dare not indeed I dare not.”
“Dare not do what, Polly?” asked Tom, in a soothing tone.
“Tell where she is, or help you to get her,” answered the girl, promptly.
“Then you do know where she is, Polly, and may be who took her away, and all about her,” said Tom. “Now what I’ve got to say is this, that just do you do what’s right, and never do you fear what any one can do to you.”
The girl still hesitated.
“Just let me ask you a question, Polly,” continued Tom. “Is your father in trouble, or James? Tell me that.”
“Yes! the revenue men have got some information against them, and are after them both.”
“Then depend on’t, Polly, the best thing for them is to give up Miss Margery before they are caught,” said Tom; “they’ll gain nothing by giving her up afterwards. The law doesn’t make terms with people.”
“But they’re terrible people who’ve got her,” answered Polly. “They’d as soon shoot you, or me, or anybody, as look at us, if we came near them.”
“We don’t fear terrible men,” said Tom, laughing, “just do you put us in the way of getting back Miss Margery, and we’ll say as many good words as we can for thy father, Polly, and for James too, if he needs them.”
“But you’ll do no harm to those who have got her, and all you’ll say is that Polly Herring, Dick Herring’s daughter, helped you to get her back,” said the girl, in a tone which showed that she still feared the consequences of what she was about to do.
Charley had not before spoken, but he now thanked her, and urged her to lose no time in restoring Margery to them.
“Come on, then,” she said, in a firm voice; “it’s a long way from here, but you may be there and back at the Tower with the little girl before daybreak.” These words made Charley’s affectionate heart beat with joy. Polly added, however, “We must be careful, though, for if we were to fall in with any of our people it would go hard with you and me too.”
Polly had well-knit limbs, and, being accustomed to active exercise, led the way at a rapid rate. She seemed well acquainted with the road, for she never stopped or hesitated as to which path to take, and Charley soon totally lost the direction in which he was going, and Tom had no little difficulty in keeping up with her.
They had thus gone on for some distance, when Polly stopped and stood as if listening.
“I hear some coming; we must hide, and quick too, for if they are those I fancy, and they catch us, our lives are not worth much.”
A high bank with a hedge on the top of it was on one side, and as she spoke she led the way through a gap, and the adventurers found themselves perfectly concealed from any one passing along the road. Scarcely had they got behind the hedge, when a party of five or six men appeared, talking in subdued tones, but high enough to allow some of their words to be heard. They were uttering oaths and breathing vengeance against the revenue officers and others, by whom their plans had been defeated. From the mood they were in, Charley felt that it would have been very unpleasant to have again encountered them. Polly waited for some time before she ventured into the road, and then she led on, without speaking, as fast as ever. The ground became very rough, and they went up and down hill till the sound of the surf told that they were once more approaching the sea.
As they were ascending a steep, rocky hill, covered with loose stones, a light appeared before them. They crept on cautiously, imitating Polly’s way of proceeding.
“They have taken her there,” she whispered, pointing to a cottage, the dim outline of which could be seen. “This very night, if the weather had been fine, they would have carried her across the Channel. There’s no time to lose, for they won’t let her stay long, and if we don’t get her to-day, to-morrow she may be far off from this.”
Again she moved on, till she reached a low stone wall, which formed a fence to the garden of the house. “Stay still as death here,” she whispered. “There’s a terrible woman lives there. If she was to find out what I was about she’d kill me though I am her own flesh and blood, and you too, and, may be, in her rage, the little girl too.” Saying this, Polly stole on towards the cottage.
Charley had expected that he should have been called on to run some personal risk, and to carry off Margery from the grasp of half-a-dozen fierce smugglers or so, and he felt somewhat disappointed at the inactive part he was called on to play. From the words Polly had dropped he guessed that the cottage was the one inhabited by old Dame Herring, who was looked upon by the inhabitants of the country for miles round as a witch, and known to be a very bad character. She took advantage of her evil reputation, and practised on the credulity of the people. It is not necessary to mention her bad practices. A few years before she would very probably have been burnt as a witch; she now ran a risk of being ducked in a horse-pond.
Polly seemed to be a long time absent. Tom had the gift of patience, and was accustomed to wait, and so, though he was fully as anxious as Charley to have Margery safe under his charge, he made no complaint; but Charley began to lose patience, and to wonder what could have become of Polly, contemplating even going to look for her. Those who have had experience in life know that it is much more difficult to wait for an event than to rush forward to meet it; passive courage is therefore often the greatest. Still, when difficulties occur, the wisest course is boldly to face them at once. To the eyes of the multitude the soldier who rushes onward into the thickest of the fight may appear the bravest, and yet he may be a positive coward, urged forward by despair. The truly brave is he who can stand undaunted to meet the shock of the onset. Charley had to wait and wait till his patience was taxed to the utmost. At length his ear caught a light footstep approaching, and Polly came up to him. “I couldn’t get the little girl out, for she is shut up in a room by herself,” she whispered. “I had to wait till they were all asleep, and then I crept out to tell you. Still, I think if you are careful you may manage to get her. I will show you the window of the room where she is shut up, and if you can climb in and awake her without making any noise you may do it; but understand that there are several men sleeping in the cottage with loaded pistols under their heads, which they are very quick to use; and remember that the slightest noise will alarm them. Come along, but you must wait ten minutes to let me get into the cottage before you begin your business.”
Charley and Tom, of course, promised to attend to Polly’s injunctions, and eagerly followed her through the garden to the back of the cottage. She showed them the window, which seemed a very small one, about eight feet from the ground; and then, with her finger on her lips, disappeared round the corner. Charley waited what he considered a very long ten minutes, but Tom, who could calculate better, held him tight, as a sign that it was not yet time to move, and at last bent his back with his head against the wall, and signed to him to get on the top of it. This Charley did with alacrity, and grasping the window-sill, drew himself up till he got his knees on it, and he was then able without noise to open one side of the lattice window. There was barely room for him to creep through, but he managed to do so without making any noise, and at length he stood inside. He looked round anxiously into the room. At that moment a gleam of moonlight burst through the passing clouds, and showed him a small bed, and Margery, completely dressed, sleeping soundly and peaceably on it. He was afraid if he awakened her suddenly she might speak or cry out; so taking off his shoes he crept softly up to her, and kissing her brow, whispered low in her ear, “Margery, Margery, don’t speak—a friend—Charley has come for you, to take you home.”
She opened her eyes, which Charley could see, for the moonbeam cast its light directly on her countenance; a sweet smile came across it, and he thought that she had never looked more lovely; but she evidently thought that she was dreaming.
“Dear Margery, wake up; Charley has come to take you away from this place,” he repeated.
“Is it possible?” she asked, in the same low voice in which he spoke, and took his hand. The touch assured her.
“Yes, yes! I am ready; oh, thank you, thank you!”
Charley helped her to rise, and to step softly across the room. He then got through the window, and holding on, as only a sailor or a cat could, to nothing, helped her through and lifted her down to Tom, who couldn’t refrain from giving her a hearty kiss in his joy at recovering her. Charley then put on his shoes, and dropped noiselessly to the ground. “They brought me here without shoes, and would give me none for fear I should run away,” she whispered; “but I will try to walk without them.”
“Not for worlds, Margery,” answered Charley. “We’ll carry you all the way, never fear.”
“Aye, aye, Miss Margery,” said Tom; “I’ve carried you many a mile when you was a baby and you was no heavier than a feather, and I’ve still strength left in my old arms to carry you now that you are a young lady nearly grown, I may say.”
Margery could only murmur her thanks, as Tom bore her in his arms across the garden and down the hill at a rapid rate, Charley bringing up the rear, and ready to do battle should they be pursued.
Polly had so far proved faithful, and Charley hoped sincerely that the part she had played in the affair might not be discovered by her associates. Still, he cast many an anxious glance behind him as they descended the steep, rough hill side, lest any of the smugglers should have been aroused, and have come in pursuit. Their chief difficulty was to find the way; but they guessed pretty correctly the direction of the Tower, the moon still affording them the assistance of her light. They did not even stop to rest, Tom declaring that Miss Margery was still almost as light as a feather, if not quite as light as when she was a baby. They had thus made good progress, when Charley said that he heard footsteps.
“May be,” answered Tom; “but they must be stout fellows who will dare to take our Miss Margery from us.”
“I am not at all afraid of anybody now,” said Margery. “I am sure, Charley, that you and Tom would not let them take me from you.” Charley of course promised that no one should, and as they did not believe that any smugglers would venture to interfere with them, should any be met, they continued their course. However, before they had gone much further, two very suspicious-looking personages overtook them and asked various questions, as to whence they had come and where they were going.
“Easily answered, mates,” said Tom; “we are coming from the place we last stopped at, and we are going home, and our business is nobody else’s, do ye see?”
Whatever had been the intentions of the men, Tom’s firm bearing, and Charley’s determined air, as he brought up the rear, following Tom as a bull-terrier does the heels of his master, ready to fly at any one venturing to interfere with him, made them alter their purpose.
“I thought as how those piratical craft would sheer off if we showed a bold front,” said Tom, as the men turned down a lane on one side. “It’s a great point to show an enemy that you are wide awake and not afraid of him. Mind you that, Master Charley. There’s a great enemy, too, who is always going about seeking whom he may devour; and if he finds that we are prepared for him, and know how to resist him, he’ll be off like a shot.”
At length the door of the Tower was reached. Becky, who opened it, instead of welcoming them as they might naturally have expected that she would, stared wildly at them, and then throwing her apron over her head ran back screaming, “There are ghosts—there are ghosts—there are ghosts at the door!”
“No we ain’t,” said Tom, bluntly, as he entered; “but we’ve brought back Miss Margery all right, and she’ll be glad of some grub presently, and so shall we by and by I’m thinking,—eh, Master Charley? But just do you first, as soon as you have got your five senses back, run up and tell the captain and missis. They’ll not be sorry to hear the news, at all events.”
In another minute Margery was in her parents’ arms, and they were thanking Heaven that she had been safely restored to them.
Little Margery had kept up her courage wonderfully, from the moment she was seized till her return home. She said that she was awake and thought that she saw Becky collecting her clothes, when suddenly she was taken up in the arms of a woman; she supposed her mouth was gagged and her eyes blinded, and she was carried swiftly along, down into some damp place and along passages into the open air, and finally into the cottage where Charley had found her. She had had no fear about being ill treated, for she did not think any one would hurt a little girl like herself. She was very grateful, however, to Charley and Tom for all the risk they had run to rescue her.
Tom and Charley’s adventures created great surprise, for the captain could not conceive how they could have got out of the vaults; and it was not until they had all together paid another visit to it that they discovered the aperture lately blocked up with loose stones, and then at length guessed that it had been done by the smugglers to cut off pursuit. The result of the whole proceeding was the very reverse of what the smugglers had expected. In their foolish ignorance they fancied that they could frighten away a sensible man, like Captain Askew, from the Tower by their notable scheme of making it be supposed that it was haunted.
We may be surprised at their gross representations of ghosts and spirits, but which were undoubtedly exact imitations of their own conceptions of such things; nor does it at all follow, that because some of them ventured to appear in the character of ghosts, they did not firmly believe in their existence. Probably their own superstitious fears would as easily have been worked on as they hoped to work on those of others.
A considerable amount of the property of the gang, which they had not time to remove, was seized when they left their chief stronghold and place of rendezvous on the coast, where they had long defied the vigilance of the revenue officers, and many of them were driven away from the coast. The entrance to the cave from the sea was carefully blocked up, so that no one could again undermine the Tower, and attempt to play off such tricks on the inmates.
Mr Ludlow, accompanied by Stephen, rode over to the Tower to congratulate his tenants on the recovery of their daughter. “I am very glad to see the young lady back, and safe, and well; but,” he added, “I have a bone to pick with her. What do you think, captain? She has actually been endeavouring to persuade my only son to go to sea, that he may spend his life in searching for your poor boy, whom she asserts is still alive in some island of the Pacific, either in consequence of reading a child’s book, or from some cock-and-bull story which she heard from an old sailor one day, who was never afterwards to be found to corroborate the truth of his narrative. I wish bygones to be bygones, and I would rather not have alluded to the subject, but I really do not know what powerful influence she may exert over him, though I cannot say that at present he has any fancy for the undertaking; but I wish, at all events, to nip the project in the bud.”
As may be supposed, Captain Askew was not a little astonished at this address, while he could not but be sensible of the want of feeling of the man who could thus coldly speak of his long-lost son, that son who had been banished in consequence of Mr Ludlow’s own stern decree. “I was not aware that my little Margery entertained any such notion,” he answered mildly. “Did she, I should have supposed that your son, Stephen, however much she may esteem him as a friend, was the very last person she would have selected for the scheme.”
“Oh, the foolish boy lent her a book, a copy, I believe, of Defoe’s ‘Robinson Crusoe,’ and as he describes a person living on an island for a number of years by himself, she has taken it into her head that her brother may have escaped shipwreck, and be still alive on one of the many islands which I understand stud parts of the Pacific.”
“I have only to repeat that my daughter has not mentioned the subject to me, and I will undertake that she does not induce your son to act contrary to your wishes,” answered Captain Askew.
“Very well, neighbour, I will trust to your word,” said Mr Ludlow, in his usual supercilious manner, which, to a man of a temper less mild than the captain, would have been very galling. “I, of course, have other designs for him than to lead the life of a sailor.”
When Mr Ludlow and Stephen had taken their departure, he could not help repeating to himself, “he may be alive on one of the many islands which stud parts of the Pacific. The sailor’s story may be true, or it may be only dear Margery’s fancy. It is but natural that she should indulge in it; I would that I had health and strength, and the means to go out and search for the dear boy—dear whether alive or dead.”
That evening the captain spoke of their boy to his wife. He would not venture to raise her hopes. He scarcely hinted at the possibility of his having escaped from the wreck, and yet he spoke of such things having happened to others. Margaret’s reply was, “God’s will be done. He knows what is kept for us in all respects.”
In the meantime, Stephen had told Margery that his father objected decidedly to his becoming a sailor, that he might go and look for her brother Jack; an announcement which the young lady received with much dignity, and an expression of contempt on her pretty countenance which it was not wont to wear.
“Of course, Mr Stephen Ludlow, you are right in doing what your father wishes,” she observed; “and now I think over the matter you are not at all fitted to become a sailor. Sailors are true friends—generous, brave, kind, and liberal; I was mistaken when I supposed that you were likely to possess those qualities. Good-bye. I do not want to quarrel with you, but now you know what I think.”
Margery was not aware how severe her words might have sounded. Stephen did not fully understand their meaning, but he felt very sheepish, and had an idea that it would probably be some time before he again paid a visit to Stormount Tower. Margery had, however, far from abandoned her idea. She had for some time naturally thought that Charley Blount would be the proper person to perform her behests, and she felt certain that he would very gladly undertake the task she might assign him. She put the matter before him, and to her great delight he at once undertook her mission.
“I cannot say that your brother Jack is alive,” he observed; “but this I promise, that if he is I will do my utmost to find him and bring him home.”