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The Lost Middy: Being the Secret of the Smugglers' Gap, a novel by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 18 |
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_ CHAPTER EIGHTEEN. "No, Master Aleck, not gone, as you may say, right off," replied Tom Bodger, a few days later, as he adzed and planed and hammered away at the kittiwake down in front of the natural boat-house. "They're a-dodging of it, strikes me. King's skippers is artful when they wants men. They just got enough of that smuggling lot aboard the sloop to make the cap'n hungry for more, and, you mark my words, he'll keep away so as to make the likely ones think they're safe, and then there'll come a night when they'll find they arn't." "Oh, I don't think so, Tom," said Aleck, opening a fresh packet of glistening golden-hued copper nails. "I don't believe the press-gang will come again." "All right, Master Aleck, you go on thinking they won't, and I'll go on thinking they will, and let's see who's right." "But what makes you suspicious, Tom?" "Old sperience, sir," said the man, with a grim smile. "I 'member how we used to pick 'em up aboard the Hajax--'our Jacks,' as the lads used to call her. That's just how our old skipper used to work it; and if I were Eben Megg and didn't want to go to sea I should give up smuggling and take to an inland job, where he warn't known, and then he'd be safe. Ha! Them's the sort," he said, taking the fresh nails. "No rusting about them coppery nails." "No; but uncle says you're to be careful and not use so many, for they're expensive, and you do seem to like to drive in as many as you can." "Now, you lookye here, Master Aleck," said the sailor, solemnly; "a copper nail may mean a man's life. You put in a hiron one and after a bit the sea water eats it all away. Soon as the nail's eat away up starts a plank, in goes the water, and before you knows where you are down goes your boat and a man's drowned. Copper nail costs a ha'penny, p'raps, and if it's a big 'un, a penny. Well, arn't a man's life worth more'n that?" "Of course; but how long shall you be before you've done?" "Finish this week, sir; and then she'll last for years. You know how it was; soon as I ripped off that patch we found that a lot of her streaks under the pitch was rotten, and there was nothing for it but to cut a lot away and make a good job of it. Well, sir, we're making a good job of it, and she'll be like a noo boat when I've done." "Of course," said Aleck; "and uncle said you were to do it thoroughly." "And thorough it is," said Tom. "I've took a lot o' time, but there's been every bit to make good. Let's see; this makes a week and three days I've been coming over reg'lar." "Yes, Tom," said Aleck, laughing; "and what do you think Ness says?" "Dunno, Master Aleck," said the sailor, passing his hand, as if lovingly, over the well-smoothed sweet-smelling wood he was putting into the boat. "Wants some beer?" "Oh, of course," said Aleck; "but he said he could have mended the boat up in half the time." "Ah, he would," said Tom, drily. "Done it in two days, maybe, and first time she was out in bad weather the sea would undo all his work in quarter the time. Won't do, Master Aleck; boat-building's boat-building, and it's all the same as ship-building--it means men's lives, and them who scamps work like this ought to be flogged. Our old chips aboard the Hajax, as I worked with as mate, used to say precious ugly things about bad boat-building, and he'd say what he'd do to him as risked men's lives by bad work. He taught me, Master Aleck, and I feel like him. I'd rather be paid a score o' shillings for doing a fortnight's good work than have it for doing a week's; and I'm going to drive in as many o' these here best copper nails as I thinks'll be good for the boat, and you're going to hold my big hammer agen their heads while I clinch 'em. Then I shall feel as the boat's as safe as hands can make it. And, as I said afore, if I was Eben Megg, I'd drop the smuggling and go inland for a bit. That there sloop'll come into harbour some night when she arn't expected; you see if she don't! They was fine young men the skipper got the other night, and I say he'll try for another haul." "And I say," cried Aleck, "that if he does send his men he'll be disappointed, for Eben and the other smugglers will be too foxy to let themselves be surrounded as the men were at Rockabie the other night." "Well, Master Aleck, so much the better for them." Then Tom began hammering and clinching the soft copper nails as if he loved his work, and as soon as the sun went down started off to trudge across the moor to Rockabie, taking his time over the task and looking as cheerful at the end as he did at the beginning of the long day. Aleck had worked pretty hard, too, in the hot sun, and he was so drowsy that night that he was glad enough to see his uncle, wearied out with the writing, which seemed as if it would never come to an end, begin to nod and doze, and suddenly rise up and say: "Let's go to bed!" Aleck hardly knew how he got undressed, but he did afterwards recall going to the fully-open window and looking out at the dull night, as he drank in the soft cool air, which seemed so welcome after a still, sultry day. Then he was asleep, dreaming of nothing, till about midnight, when his brain became active and he fancied that he was back in the darkness by the unlaunched boat at Rockabie, growing wildly excited as he listened to the shouting and scuffling up one of the narrow lanes, followed by firing and what seemed to be either an order or a cry for help. The next moment the sleeper was wide awake, listening to what was undoubtedly a shout, and it was followed by another, both far away, but sounding clear on the night air, while from time to time came a dull murmur as of several voices together. "They're landing a cargo," thought Aleck, and with his mind full of luggers lying off the coast, with boats going to and fro to fetch kegs, chests and bales, he hurried on his clothes, dropped from his bedroom window, hurried down the garden to the cliff path, and began to climb up the zigzag. The landing-place would no doubt be away to the west and below Eilygugg, where the smugglers' fishing-boats lay, and as soon as he was up out of the depression on to the level down, Aleck went off at a trot to get right at the edge of the cliff, where, unseen, he calculated upon getting a good view of what was going on by the light of, as he expected, many lanthorns. Before he was half way to the edge a thrill ran through him, for a wild shrieking arose, beginning with one voice, and turning to that of several. "Oh, it's a wreck!" cried the lad, wildly, and he hurried on, hoping to reach the way down to the boats and be of some use before it was too late. But as he ran on with throbbing heart and his breath growing short it gradually dawned upon him that the shrieks were those of angry women raging and storming, and this was soon confirmed, for there was the gruff burr of men's voices in the distance, followed by a shout or two, which sounded like the orders he had heard in his dream. "Why, it's a fight," he cried, half aloud. "Tom Bodger's right; the press-gang has landed again, but, instead of going to Rockabie, they've come here." He was as right as Tom Bodger, for at last when he made his way to the edge of the cliff it was to look down on the lanthorns carried by three boats, which were close up to the shingly patch of beach from which the fishing craft put off. As far as he could make out in the darkness, badly illumined by the lanthorns, there was a desperate struggle going on in the shallow water lying between the shingle and the boats. For the first few moments it seemed to Aleck in his excitement that the press-gang was being beaten off by the smugglers. Then he was puzzled, for he could hear hoarse shouts and laughter, mingled with shrieks and what seemed to be loud abuse in women's voices, followed by splashing in the water as of struggles going on again and again. After the last of these encounters the lights began to move outward in obedience to an order given loudly from one of the boats; the regular _dip-dip_ of oars came up, and then there was a rushing sound and a wild passionate chorus of cries from the shore. "I know," panted Aleck, with a feeling of angry indignation attacking him. "They've taken and are carrying off some of the men, and the women have been fighting to try and rescue them. Poor things, how horrible, but how brave!" He had confirmation of his surmises directly after, for there now rose up to his ears a burst of sobbing cries in a woman's voice, followed by confused eager talk from quite a party, who seemed to be trying to comfort the weeping woman. For a few moments there was a pause, during which in the deep silence there was the regular dip of oars, and the lanthorns gently rose and fell upon the smooth rollers of the tide. Then there was a cry which went straight to Aleck's heart, so piteous and wailing were its tones: "Oh, Eben! Eben! Come back, dear; come back!" It reached him for whom it was intended, and was answered directly from one of the boats in words which reached Aleck more clearly perhaps then the listeners below him on the shore. "All right, lass. Cheer up!" The order had its effect, for a cheer given heartily in women's voices was the result; but the lad's thoughts were active. "Cheer up!" he said to himself. "How can the woman be cheerful with her husband dragged away like that?" The lights in the boats gradually grew more distant, while Aleck lay thinking what he had better do, for the low eager murmur of voices down below raised a feeling of commiseration in his breast, which made him feel disposed to go down and try to say a few words of comfort to the bereaved women, who had evidently been trying hard to save their husbands. But he felt that he would only be able to act in a poor bungling way and that the smugglers' people might look upon him as an intruder and a spy. For though the Den was so short a distance from Eilygugg, there had been very little intercourse, and that merely at times when the help of the captain was sought in connection with some injury or disease. "They would likely enough turn on and begin fiercely at me," he thought. "I can do no good;" and he lay still, wanting to get away, but afraid to stir lest he should be heard. "They'll go soon," he thought; and he waited patiently, watching the lights gradually getting fainter and fainter as their distance from the shore increased. But the poor women seemed to have seated themselves just beyond reach of the lapping waves, which kept on breaking regularly in the little cove, and they, too, were watching the boat-lights till the last gleam had died away and all was darkness as far as they could see. Then a low sobbing was heard, half drowned at times by many voices raised in angry protest, and mingled with threats. This went on and on, rising, falling, and quite dying out at times, but only to break out again, having a strange effect upon Aleck, who would have given anything to get away unnoticed; but every now and then the silence was so perfect that he felt confident of being heard if he made the slightest movement, and consequently lay still. "They'd be sure to look upon me as an intruder," he muttered, "and be ready to resent my being here." At last though the silence was broken by the trampling of feet amongst the loose shingle, accompanied by a low murmured conversation, which was continued up the gap and died out finally high up towards the cottages, leaving the way for the listener clear. Aleck took advantage of this, and, sad at heart, he was going slowly back towards the Den, when suddenly became aware of steps coming from the direction of the smugglers' scattered patch of cottages. Whoever it was had approached so near and had come upon him so suddenly that he obeyed his first impulse, which was to say, sharply: "Who's that?" "Eh? That you, Master Aleck?" "Yes, it is I, Ness. What are you doing out here at this time of night?" "Mornin', arn't it, sir? Same as you, I s'pose. Who was to stop in bed with press-gangs coming and dragging folkses off to sea?" "Then you heard them?" "Heerd 'em, yes, sir! I was that feared o' being took myself that I got into hiding." "You were not fighting, then?" "Me? Fight? Not me! I lay low and listened." "The press-gang landed and surprised the smugglers, then?" "Yes, sir, and they've nabbed Eben Megg and six of his mates. Did yer hear the women giving it to the sailors?" "I heard something of it." "They was fighting savage like to save their men, and the sailor chaps was glad enough to get back to their boats; but they took Eben Megg and half a dozen more along with 'em." "You seem to know all about it, Ness," said Aleck, suspiciously. "Me, Master Aleck? Well, you see, being such near neighbours like I can't help hearing a deal. But it's bad work smuggling, and I keep as clear of the folk as I can. Going home to bed?" "Yes." "That's right, sir. Best place, too, of a night. But how did you know the press-gang was coming?" "I didn't know they were coming." "But you were theer?" said the old gardener, suspiciously. "I was there?" said Aleck, "because the noise woke me, coming through my open window." "Oh!" said the gardener. "I see." The next minute their ways diverged, and Aleck soon after climbed up to his bedroom window, to drop off into a sleep disturbed by fights with press-gangs and smugglers all mixed up into a strange confusion, from which he was glad to awaken and find that he had hardly time to get dressed before his uncle would be down. _ |
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