Cutlass and Cudgel Part 11

"On'y want our cow."

"Then take her, sir, and go!"

"Have a drop of milk?"

"No," said the lieutenant, turning his back. "Perhaps Mr Raystoke here might like a little. Can you milk?"

"I can't," said Ram, shaking his head. "He can. Here, Jemmy, take hold of the painter and come aboard."

"Stop!" cried the lieutenant, "you must not speak like that. You must ask leave, sir."

"Ask who?" said Ram, vacantly.

"Touch your cap, and ask the lieutenant to let you."

"Why, I have touched it twice. Want me to pull my hair off? I say, skipper, if you'll let him come aboard--oh! He is aboard now,"--for Jemmy was already making the boat fast--"Here, give me a clean pail."

The little commander of the cutter tried to look important, and Archy more so, but they forgot everything disciplinarian the next moment, in the interest of the proceedings, as Jemmy Dadd took the bucket handed to him, turned another up beside the side of the cow, and as he was sitting down, Dirty d.i.c.k dug his elbows into his messmates' ribs right and left, whispered "Look out! And over he goes." Then he drew in a long breath, ready for a roar of laughter when the bucket went flying, and stood staring waiting to explode.

But, to d.i.c.k's great disappointment, Tally uttered a soft low, and began to swing her tail gently round, so as to give Jemmy a pat on the back.

At regular intervals there was a whishing noise, then another whishing noise half a tone lower, then _whish_--_whosh_--_whish_--_whosh_, two streams of rich new milk began to pour into the bucket, whose bottom was soon covered, and a white froth began to appear on the top.

"I say!" cried d.i.c.k eagerly, "shall I lash her legs?"

"What for?" growled Jemmy.

"'Cause she'll kick it over directly."

"Not she. You wouldn't kick it over, would you, Tally, old cow?"

The cow waved her tail and whisked it about the man's neck as the milking went on, to the delight of the men, who began to see biscuit and milk in prospect, while the two officers, who were none the less eager for a draught as a change from their miserable ordinary fare, veiled their expectations under a severe aspect of importance.

"Here you are," said Jemmy, drawing back at last--while d.i.c.k seemed to be watching, in a state of agony, lest a kick should upset the soft white contents of the bucket--"More'n a gallon this time. How much are we to leave aboard?"

"All of it," said Ram generously; "they deserve it for saving the cow.

I say, you," he continued, turning to Archy, "what do you say to her now?"

"Thank you," replied Archy. "Here, d.i.c.k, take that bucket aft, and you, my lads, open the side there, and help them to get the cow overboard."

"Thank ye, sir," said Ram, smiling. "I say, Jemmy, she'd stand in the boat, wouldn't she? Or would she put her feet through?"

"Let's try," was the laconic reply, and taking hold of the rope that had been used as a halter, the man stepped down into the boat, the cow, after a little coaxing, following, without putting her feet through, and showing great activity for so clumsy-looking a beast. Ram followed, and took one of the oars, settled down behind Jemmy, and the next minute, with the whole crew of the cutter standing grinning at the side, they began to row sh.o.r.eward.

"How about the tide, Jemmy?" said Ram, when they had been rowing a few minutes, with the cow standing placidly in the boat.

"Too high, can't do it," said the man.

"Let's row to the ledge then, and land there till the tide goes down."

"Right," said Jemmy, and they bore off a little to the east, made straight for the shelf of rock, which was just awash; and as they rowed, they saw the lieutenant and the midshipman enter the light gig, four men dropped their oars in the water, and with the drops flashing from the blades, the gig came swiftly after them.

"Why, they're coming here too, Jemmy," said Ram, as they reached the ledge, and leaped on to the ammonite-studded stone, over which the water glided and then ran back.

"Well, let 'em," said Jemmy, following suit with the painter, the cow standing contentedly with her eyes half-closed. "Don't matter to us, lad, so long as they didn't come last night."

They made fast the hawser to an iron stanchion, one of several dotted about and pretty well hidden by the water, climbed up on the rock, and sat down in the warm sunshine to wait for the turn of the tide, while after a pull in one direction, the gig's course was altered, and they saw its course changed again.

"I liked that chap," said Ram, as he gazed across a few hundred yards of smooth water, at where Archy sat in his uniform, steering.

"What are they up to?" said Jemmy, shading his eyes. Then quite excitedly, "Say, lad, lookye yonder," he whispered.

"I was looking," cried Ram excitedly; "they've picked up a brandy keg."

There was no denying the fact; and as the dripping little barrel was placed by one of the men in the fore part of the gig, the others gave way, and the light vessel came rapidly now toward the ledge.

Archy was shading his eyes just then, and pointing out something to the lieutenant a little to the left of where Ram and his companion were seated, and the boy's eyes, trained by his nefarious habits, gazed sharply in search of danger or criminating evidence, in the direction the midshipman pointed.

A chill of horror ran through him, for there, with the wash of the tide half covering and then leaving them bare, were two more brandy kegs, which had been missed the previous night during the fog.

"Ah!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Ram, as in imagination he saw the well-filled vault, and the crew of the cutter being marched up to make a seizure, and arrest his father perhaps.

If he could but get away and give the alarm!

CHAPTER SEVEN.

"Get away, and give the alarm?"

How could we?

There was no rope and pulley up on the cliff now, and the boat was occupied by the cow; while, even if it had been empty, it would have meant a six mile row to reach a landing-place at that time of the tide, and an eight miles' walk back.

And here was the cutter's gig close to them, and the lieutenant ready to ask him the meaning of the smuggled spirits being there.

For there was no mistaking the fact that the kegs were full of smuggled spirit. The one the king's men had dragged dripping from the sea, bore certain unmistakable markings, and it was evidently brother to those on the rock.

Ram and Jemmy had no time for thinking; the gig was run quickly up alongside of the ledge, and d.i.c.k tossed in his oar, sprang out, sending the clear water splashing with his bare feet, as he crossed up to the kegs, and, taking one under each arm, went more slowly and cautiously back to the boat, where his messmates took them carefully, with many a chuckle and grin, to deposit them beside the others.

"Now, my lad, run her alongside of the cow--I mean of the other boat,"

cried the lieutenant.

This was quickly done, and the little officer turned sharply to where Ram and Jemmy Dadd were seated on the rock, looking on as stolidly as if nothing whatever was coming.

"Hi! You, sir; come here!" cried the lieutenant.

"Me, or him?" replied Ram coolly.

"You, sir."