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Arthur made a sign to John Pratt to go and fetch Toby; but he seemed unwilling to leave Arthur alone.
"Go, go. What have I to fear?" said Arthur, firmly.
The old man looked up at him. "Some who have been here have been afraid, though," he muttered. "Take a seat, young gentleman. I like your spirit."
Arthur thanked him, and sat down on a three-legged stool, near a table, which, from its appearance, he knew had formed part of the furniture of the cabin of a ship, probably wrecked on the coast. Every portion of the hut, indeed, was evidently composed of wreck-wood--the roof, the sides, and floor.
John Pratt soon returned with Toby.
"Ho, ho, old shipmate," said Toby, as he entered, "so you won't believe what the young gentleman promises; but you'll believe me. Five golden guineas or a rope's-end, remember that."
"The guineas," answered old Jem, who at once recognised Toby as an acquaintance. "But I was placed here to receive a message; when they come who will they give it to?"
"Never you mind that; we'll be be back in time, I dare say," answered Toby.
"Then come along," said the old man, whose weak mind was evidently powerfully influenced by the prospect of receiving the five golden guineas to the exclusion of every other consideration. "It will be rough work for the young gentleman, but he looks as if he wouldn't fear it."
Getting up, and walking with wonderfully firm steps, the old man led the way to a little inlet of the sea, into which a stream fell. It was large enough to allow four or five boats to float in it at once. One only was seen, and she was drawn up on the beach. A pair of oars and a rudder, and a mast and sails were in her. The old man called to Toby to help him launch her.
"What, be'es we going by the sea?" asked John Pratt, who had a thorough dread of the ocean.
"It's better than going by the land, seeing that we could not get there at all, if I guess the place we are bound for," observed Toby. "Now step in, young gentleman--step in, master."
"Can you steer?" old Jem asked of Arthur.
"Yes, I am well accustomed to it," he answered.
"Then take the helm, and do as I bid you," said the old man, taking the after oar.
Toby took the other, and they pulled away from the land. The cove was sheltered by a high reef of rocks, so the water was perfectly smooth--so smooth, that a thin coating of ice had been formed at the margin, through which the boat easily forced her way. The stars shone brightly forth from the dark sky, and enabled Arthur to discern the whole outline of the wild, and fantastically-shaped cliffs, which formed the coast, as they towered high above his head on the right. The boat had gone out to clear a reef of rocks which ran out from the sh.o.r.e, and having got to the end of it, old Jem told Arthur to port his helm, and thus doubling it, he steered close in under the cliffs. In many places there was no beach, the water coming close up to their bases; and so close was the boat that frequently the oars touched their rugged fronts. Often, too, the sea-fowl, roosting low down on ledges of rocks, were disturbed from their perches, and flew up with loud screams, circling round and round their heads, till they had pa.s.sed their resting-places.
John Pratt looked about him with considerable awe, if not dread; all was strange and new to him.
Arthur had witnessed similar scenes. The boat made but slow progress, for she was kept all the way in and out, through all the little bays, and bends, and inlets of the sh.o.r.e. Many thoughts pa.s.sed through Arthur's mind during the long pull. He hoped to recover his friend, and to enjoy the delight of restoring him to his family. At the same time, he could not help recollecting what Dame Marlow had said to John Pratt, and also the remarks of old Jem, and often he feared that they might arrive too late at the cavern where they expected to find him; that he might already be carried off to the distant lands of which the old woman spoke. Such things had occurred before, and might occur again; yet he was puzzled to know what motives the smugglers could have in such a mode of proceeding. He thought and thought over the matter without coming to any satisfactory conclusion. No one spoke above a whisper.
"We might be seen or heard by some pa.s.sing coastguard man," observed old Jem.
Now a lofty, dark, and beetling headland was seen before them.
"It's on t'other side of St. Niven's Head. We'll have to go round it,"
said old Jem.
Arthur did not object to the long pull, but he was eager to discover Digby, and to relieve him from all the anxiety he must be feeling.
On pulling out towards the end of the promontory, a swell was felt which, as it rolled in, broke on the cliffs, and compelled them to keep at a somewhat greater distance. On they went. As Arthur looked up it appeared as if the cliffs rose to a prodigious height above his head, almost reaching the sky. In several places, indeed, they appeared to be completely overhanging the water; and he could scarcely divest himself of the feeling that they were about to fall down and overwhelm the boat.
The boat now rose and fell more rapidly to the heaving wave, and nothing but John Pratt's earnest desire to find his young master, prevented him from bitterly repenting that he had trusted himself on the treacherous ocean.
"Starboard your helm!" suddenly exclaimed Jem, with an energy which he did not seem capable of exerting.
A loud splashing, washing sound, was heard, and Arthur saw the sea breaking wildly over a rock, on which, in another instant, the boat would have struck. The danger pa.s.sed, they pulled on till they rounded the headland. Wilder than ever was the scene. On one side the lofty cliffs, with their steep front, on which there appeared scarcely a ledge on which a sea-fowl might set its foot; while on the other was the broad boundless expanse of ocean. Arthur thought what would have been their fate if the boat had struck on the rock, and sunk.
"The cave where we may find him is not many hundred fathoms off," said old Jem.
Arthur's heart beat eagerly at the information; and John Pratt forgot all his fears.
"Remember, you have to deal with men who care not for law of any sort.
You must speak them fair, or you will gain nothing," said the old man.
"Now steer in for that white spot. You'll find some steps and a path cut in the face of the rock. Take care you don't slip, or you'll chance to break your neck. Enter the cave as boldly as you entered my nephew's cottage; say your say, and wait for the answer. If they threaten you, call for me. I want my five golden guineas."
Arthur sprang out of the boat, followed by Toby and John Pratt.
Toby whispered that he had no idea of the place they were going to.
Arthur carefully groped his way up the cliff, but had great difficulty in finding the path. He could not help allowing it to occur to him how completely they were in the power of the ruffians they had come to seek.
A few stones rolled down would have precipitated them all into the sea.
Still the idea was far from making him repent that he had come on the expedition. His chief thought and earnest wish was to rescue Digby.
Toby Tubb puffed up after him, but John Pratt, once on dry land, was himself again, and came along with easy strides. Lichens and salt-loving plants grew on the face of the cliff, and served Arthur as handles to a.s.sist him to mount, though he trusted chiefly to his feet and the ledges and excrescences in the rock. Up he went--on, on, on.
He thought that he must have got into the wrong path; not a sight of a cave appeared. Then he thought that perhaps old Jem had played them a trick, and having placed them on the wild rock had pulled away. The old man had charged him not to speak, so he was afraid of stopping and consulting with Toby and John Pratt. He was beginning to despair, when suddenly he found that he had reached a broad ledge. The party collected on it. A dark spot on the face of the cliff was before them; that was evidently the entrance to the cavern. He drew his breath faster; who would not on such an occasion? Then he and his two attendants walked rapidly forward, till they found themselves under the arched roof of the cave. There was no light, or signs of any one being there. Toby had brought a lantern; he lighted it. As he did so, he whispered to Arthur--
"There may be pitfalls in the way; it's as well not to tumble into them."
The cave did not run directly into the cliff, but turned sharply round to the left. Toby holding up his lantern, they boldly advanced. Still no voices were heard.
"The fellows are asleep," whispered Toby.
They soon reached a narrower part of the cave, with a screen of rough planks running across it. At one end of the screen was a low door; Arthur pushed it open, and entered, fully believing that, in another instant, he should grasp Digby's hand. Arthur saw before him a large vaulted cavern. In the centre was a fire, over which an old man and a boy were sitting toasting some slices of fish at the points of their knives. So eager were they in their occupation that they did not perceive his approach. Could the boy be Digby? The idiotic expression of wonder and fear with which the lad looked up at him showed him that he was not. The few inarticulate words uttered by the lad made the man turn round, when, starting up, he drew a pistol, and presented it at Arthur.
"We come in peace, and have no wish to hurt you," said Arthur. "Tell me where is Squire Heathcote's son. We come to seek him."
While the man stood irresolute, without replying, Arthur's eye fell on some clothes on the top of a cask. He took them up: there was a cap, and jacket, and waistcoat, such as Digby was accustomed to wear. He had little doubt that they were Digby's. His heart sunk within him.
"Where is Squire Heathcote's son?" he repeated.
The man stretched out his hand. "They have carried him off; he is far down Channel by this time."
All Arthur's worst apprehensions were realised; he was too late to save his friend.
CHAPTER NINE.
DIGBY'S NEW PONY--ATTACKED BY SMUGGLERS--THE OUTLAWS' CAVERN--A VOYAGE-- THE GALE--AN ILL WIND THAT BLOWS NO ONE GOOD--DIGBY SHIPWRECKED.
"You beautiful little Sweetlips, many a jolly ride I'll have on you,"
cried the young Squire of Bloxholme Hall, as he patted his pony's neck while he cantered along over the ground, just crisping with the newly set in frost. He had intended to go only as far as the park gates, but the air was so refreshing, and the feeling of finding himself once more in the saddle was so exhilarating that, seeing the gate open, he could not help dashing through it, and giving his pony the rein and a cut with his whip, galloping along a smooth piece of turf which ran for some distance by the side of the road. "I shall be back quite time enough to dress for dinner," he thought to himself, "and Sweetlips likes the fun as much as I do." He galloped on a little longer. "Oh, this is delightful! We must go a short distance further, Sweetlips," he exclaimed. "We will turn back, then, and you shall have a capital feed.
I'll tell John Pratt to give it you. Oh, how kind is papa. You are a first-rate pony, indeed you are, old fellow." On he went; the pony certainly seeming to enjoy the gallop as much as his young master. "Now we really must go back, Sweetlips," cried Digby, pulling in his rein, for the gloom of evening was rapidly increasing. He did not perceive that several men were coming quickly along the road close to him. "Now for Bloxholme, at your best speed, my pony, he shouted in his glee."
"Hillo! stop, master!" cried one of the men, springing forward and seizing his rein. "Who are you?"