Cutlass and Cudgel Part 61

"Yes; there it is again, away to the left. Yes; there it goes. Ahoy!"

They stopped and listened after the midshipman had hailed as loudly as he could; and, to the intense delight of both, the hail was responded to.

Hurriedly changing their direction, they went on as rapidly as the rough ground would allow, getting an answering hail every time they shouted, and each time louder, as if those who called were also coming toward them.

Ten minutes later they heard voices, by degrees these became a murmur, and they knew that there must be several of the men together.

In another ten minutes they came upon a group steadily approaching.

Mutual inquiries took place.

No, the men had not captured the fugitive, but they were sure it was a boy; Dirty d.i.c.k was ready to take an oath to that effect, but he was not asked.

Then came the important question--Where were they?

The boatswain gave it as his opinion that they had been going westward, but he could give no reason why; and it was decided to continue in that direction, after Gurr had satisfied himself that the men were all present, though they learned that there had been a good deal of hailing before all were collected.

They trudged on almost in silence, for the whole party were wearied out, till an announcement galvanised them all, for suddenly d.i.c.k put an end to the question of their journeying west by suddenly shouting,--

"South ho!"

"Eh? What do you mean?" cried the master.

"I know yon hill," said d.i.c.k, pointing to an eminence dimly seen away before him. "That's just close to the cove, and if we keep straight on, we shall be in the road in less than half an hour, and at the boats ten minutes later."

"No, no, my lad," said the master; "I don't think that's right.--Yes, it is, my lad; I'm 'most sure of it now."

Right it was, as was proved a quarter of an hour later, by their striking the rough road at right angles, and there a halt was called.

"Don't seem any good to go searching along again in the dark, Mr Raystoke," said the master; and the boatswain shook his head decisively.

"All 'bout done up," he growled.

"We could do no good now," said Archy, "for of course I am not sure where the entrance is."

"Must be getting toward morning too, and time to be aboard, Mr Raystoke. There, sir, sometimes we win and many more times we lose.

We've lost this time, so let's go back aboard, according to orders.

Forward right, my lads, and let's make the best of it."

"Never mind, Mr Gurr," said Archy in a low voice. "I was regularly in despair as I was being taken from one prison to be shut up in another, when I ran up against you. Perhaps we may run up against the smugglers after all."

"Wish we might," said the master. "Oh, how I could fight!"

But they ran up against no smugglers on their way to the boats, which they hailed from the strand, where the water was very low; and soon after they were pa.s.sing in the lowest of low spirits, out of the cove to the open channel, when once more every one was thrilled with excitement, for right away in the offing they heard a gun.

CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN.

"Can't be, sir," said Gurr, as he tried to pierce the darkness, "because the skipper must be lying at anchor where we left him."

"Hah! See that?" cried Archy, as the men bent to their oars and made the now phosph.o.r.escent water flash.

"Only the oars, lad. Water brimes."

_Thud_! came the report of a heavy gun.

"You're right, lad! 'Twas the flash from a gun. Some one's pursuing of something. Pull away, my lads, let's get aboard, and the skipper may join in. Bah! What's the good o' sh.o.r.e-going? Man's sure to get wrong there."

The men forgot their weariness in the excitement, as they realised that some vessel was in chase of a smuggler, but they murmured among themselves at their ill luck at being away from the cutter; for if they had been aboard at the first shot, the anchor would have been weighed or slipped, and the _White Hawk_ gone to see what was going on, probably to help capture a heavily laden smuggler craft.

"And we should have took our share, lads," said d.i.c.k in a whisper.

"Hey, boot we are out o' luck."

"Don't sit muttering and grumbling there, my lad, but pull hard, and let's get aboard," cried the master, and the oars dipped away in the dark sea, seeming to splash up so much pale lambent fire at every stroke.

But this was no novelty to the men, and the boats sped on, one in the other's wake, with the crew straining their heads over their left shoulders to catch a glimpse of the next flash which preceded the gun.

"Good six mile away from where we are now," said Gurr. "Oh, my lad, my lad, I wish we were aboard."

But it was a long pull from the cove to where the cutter lay, nearly a mile and a half from the sh.o.r.e, and, though the master and Archy kept straining their eyes to catch sight of their little vessel, she was invisible.

As they rowed on, they kept on increasing their distance from the sh.o.r.e, steering so as to pa.s.s along one side of a right-angled triangle, instead of along by the cliff and then straight off; but, as the cutter showed no lights, this was all guess-work, and made the task rather anxious.

The firing kept on, the dull thud of the gun being preceded by the flash, and at each notification of a shot the men gave such a tug at the stout ash blades that they bent, and the boat leaped through the water.

"Hurrah! Morning," cried Archy, and the men answered his remark with a cheer, for there was a grey light coming fast now in the east, but, to the utter astonishment of all, the cutter did not become visible.

They gazed round excitedly as the light broadened, but there was no cutter where they expected she would be, but ten minutes later, dimly seen as yet, they made her out miles away under full sail, in chase of a long, low, three-masted lugger, at which she was keeping up a slow and steady fire.

The men cheered as the direction of the boats' heads was changed.

"Pull, my lads, pull!" cried master and boatswain. The men responded with another cheer, and the water rattled under their bows.

"It's a long pull," cried the master; "but as soon as she sees us, she'll run down and pick us up."

"Hurrah!" shouted the men.

"Well done, Mr Brough, well done!" cried Gurr excitedly. "Think of him, with hardly a man to help him, sailing the cutter, and keeping up a steady fire like that. Oh, Mr Raystoke, why aren't we aboard?"

"Ah, why indeed? There she goes again. I say, Mr Gurr, won't she be able to knock some of her spars overboard."

"I wish I was aboard the lugger with an axe," growled Gurr, shading his eyes; and then, placing his foot against the stroke oar, he gave a regular thrust with the man's pull, a plan imitated by the boatswain on board the other boat.

The light increased rapidly now, and the soft grey sky gave promise of a glorious day, but this did not take the attention of those on board the boats, who could see nothing but the lugger trying to escape, and gradually growing more distant, while the cutter kept on slowly, sending a shot in her wake, evidently in the hope of bringing down one of her masts.

"What boat's that, Mr Gurr?" said Archy at last, drawing the master's attention to one in full sail in the opposite direction to that in which they were going.

"Dunno, my lad. Never mind her. Lobster, I should say."