Looking Seaward Again Part 4

"And see what a loss it wad be tiv us. But," said he, "to tell the truth, aa hev been for prayin' mesel ever since the bairn tuck bad, but then aa thowt it was cowardly to ask help when aa was in difficulties and nivvor at ony other time. So I didn't dee 't."

Jenny interjected that at the risk of being led to join the Methodists, and throwing over all thought of joining in any more lawlessness, he must go to the village and ask Mr. Turnbull to come.

"I feel somethin' forcin' me to this, Jimmy; so get away and be quick back."

And as James felt the same throbbing impulse, off he went, and within an hour presented his pet.i.tion to Mr. Turnbull, who received him in his usual kind way, which caused the redoubtable ruffian to melt into tears, and volubly to confess all his murderous intentions towards the man he now believed to be the only agency on earth that could give him comfort.

The two men started at once for the bereaved home. The first part of the journey was tramped in solemn meditation. At last Jimmy broke silence by asking his companion if he thought G.o.d had taken his child from him as a punishment for his sins. Turnbull said--

"Well, James, I believe your heavenly Father has some work for you to do. He has often warned you of the wrath to come by confronting you with danger at sea; and only a short time since you were caught in the act of committing a crime, and narrowly escaped being banished to a penal settlement, and He mercifully used a friend as an instrument to save you from this degradation. But you still maintained the spirit of defiance, and were a law unto yourself. The Almighty saw that drastic measures would have to be taken to break down your wilful opposition. Your child was stricken with illness, and still you went on cursing G.o.d and man; and then in His wondrous compa.s.sion for you and hundreds of other men and women to whom I believe He has planned you shall carry the message of peace, He has taken your child in order that you may be saved. He knew that was the only way of bringing you to see the great plan of salvation, and to save your innocent little girl from growing up in a heathenish home, where there was no beauty, no kindness, no good example, no G.o.d. I beseech you to surrender yourself at once. Remember, the Spirit will not always strive with you, and if you chase it away now it may never return."

That night, kneeling by the side of his dead child, Jimmy implored G.o.d to be merciful to him, and professed to have experienced the great transition from death unto life. Now, Jimmy, though quite uneducated, had an intellectual head and great natural gifts, and when he was careful he spoke with amazing correctness. He commenced to take part in the prayer meetings at once, and having a good memory, he picked up all the stock phrases and used them vigorously. Being an apt pupil, he soon learned to read, and then commenced one of the most extraordinary religious campaigns that has ever been witnessed in that part of Great Britain. Hundreds of men and women were led to change their lives by this rugged, uncultured, but natural preacher. A certain number of his own cla.s.s viciously persecuted him for years, and none more so than his own wife. It seemed as though h.e.l.l had been let loose on him, and yet he went on undisturbed, steadfastly believing that he was the agent of the living G.o.d to carry the message of truth to the heathen.

His old enemy Turnbull had become his fast friend, from whom he sought and received much help and many acts of kindness. He owed the conversion of his wife and many of his persecutors to this spiritually-minded man, and it was remarkable that nearly all the worst characters who were "brought in" opened their doors whenever he wanted to have a prayer meeting or a preaching service, and the rooms were always packed with people.

Attracted by the originality of the converted fisherman, a few young people belonging to the better families in the locality gathered together to witness what they imagined would be mere burlesque. There was only standing room behind the kitchen bed for them, and there was anything but an air of sanct.i.ty amongst that portion of his congregation. Jimmy's pulpit style was peculiar. He was flashing out eloquent phrases that were not commonly used in the orthodox pulpit.

As he warmed to his work he broke out in rhyme--"Yes, brothers and sisters, there was little brother Paal, the very best of aal, laid down his life," etc. His use of biblical names was quite eccentric, which caused the undevotional members of his audience to sn.i.g.g.e.r audibly. Without seeming to heed the irreverence, Jimmy pursued his impa.s.sioned diatribe and smote unbelievers hip and thigh, in language that was not conventional, or even relevant to the subject of his discourse. The sn.i.g.g.e.ring had developed into suppressed laughter, and James suddenly stopped the even flow of his oratory, brought his giant fist down on the deal table and sent everything flying. Ladies'

dresses were more or less damaged by candle grease; but the cooler heads prevented an outbreak of panic by getting the candles relighted and put on to the table. Then in reverent tones they asked the preacher, who stood apparently unmoved, to proceed with the service; so Jimmie gave out the verse of a hymn which he thought would be suitable to the occasion. (Methodists always did that when the lights went out or the preacher stuck.)

In the good old days, when village Methodism was quivering with spiritual life, and pouring its converts into the cities and towns of England to teach the simple gospel of the Founder of our Faith, without any artificial fringes being attached to it, they were too poor, and perhaps too conscious of the superiority of the real G.o.d-given vocal capacity, to have anything to do with what many of them believed to be artificial aids to religion. It was a fine sight to see the leader of the songsters shut his eyes, clap his hands, and with strong nasal blasts--which resembled the drone of the immortal instrument that is the terror of the English and the glory of the Scottish people--"raise the hymn," while, as the others joined in the singing, the volume of sound swelled louder and louder, until the whole congregation were entranced by the power of their own performance.

I give the words of the verse which Jimmy asked to be sung. Here they are--

"Come on, my partners in distress, My comrades through the wilderness, Who still your bodies feel; Awhile forget your griefs and fears, And look beyond this vale of tears To that celestial hill."

This was sung with appropriate vigour over and over again. It is very difficult to stop a real country Methodist when the power of song is on him, and on occasions such as this they generally break off gradually, until only one or two irrepressible enthusiasts are left singing, and these have to be brought to the consciousness of time and the propriety of things by being pulled down into their seats. Jimmy wished to proceed with his rebuke to the persons who had been the cause of the diversion, so he put a peremptory stop to the vocalists by telling them to "sit doon, and listen to G.o.d's amba.s.sador." He then resumed his address by stating that when his fist knocked the candles off the table he was "nearly givin' way to temptation. In fact," said he, "I was just on the point of usin' profane language to the mockers and scoffers of the sarvent of the livin' G.o.d. I mean them parva.r.s.e lads and la.s.ses aback o' the bed theor."

"Amen!" interjected several saintly voices.

"But, hallelujah!" resumed James, "aa felt G.o.d was ha'd'en me back!"

"Glory!" shouted Adam Jefferson.

"Yes, ma brethren and sistors. Aa c.u.m amang ye t' seek and t' save sinners that repenteth; rich or poor, it makes nee difference to me nor ma Maister, for hasn't He said 'where two or three are met tegithor in Ma Name, there am I in the midst'?"

"Bless Him!" cried Nannie Dent, a late accomplice of the smugglers.

Jimmy's rebuke to the offenders was delivered with boisterous earnestness, but the comic phrasing of it created irrepressible hilarity, and they had to leave the room. The preacher, in his closing remarks, reminded his hearers that he was once a black-hearted rascal, drinking, swearing, stealing, poaching, smuggling, and but for the mercy of G.o.d he might have added to his other crimes that of murder. A shudder went through the congregation when "murder" was uttered, and their minds were obviously centred on the derelict vessel and the dog, which Jimmy was suspected of doing away with.

"Ah!" whispered Sam Taylor, the butler, "he should never have ventured on that affair. Folks are varra queer, and whether it is true or not, they like sensation and scandal."

As though he had been gifted with prescience, Jimmy continued--"Aa can feel whaat ye are thinking aboot, but it's not true. This is the man aa threatened te kill," pointing at Turnbull. "And now let us bow oor heads in solemn, silent prayor for a few minutes, and ask forgiveness for oor past and daily sins. And aa want ye to join with me in asking for pardon and speedy repentance to be sent tiv a porson that belangs te the gentry of this district, but whe hes been, and is noo engaged in trafficking in wickedness. May the Lord bring him to His footstool of mercy before he is nabbed, as aa was."

These remarks, with the exhilarating pet.i.tion, caused an amount of irreverent speculation as to who was the person alluded to. The service was brought to a close without any evidences of spiritual emotion such as had characterized previous meetings, and the people proceeded in groups to their respective homes filled with fertile curiosity, and a sinister suspicion as to who the sinful person was that Jimmy had so fervently prayed for. But only one person who heard the rugged deliverance fixed her mind on him that was guilty, and she resolved to keep her thoughts a secret, for reasons that will be explained hereafter. Meanwhile, many innocent men were suspected, and gossip ran rampant. Jimmy, when asked whom he meant, was piously reticent, and merely answered--

"That is a matter that concerns G.o.d and mysel'! The time may come when he'll accuse hissel'. Aa'm prayin' mornin', noon, and night, that the strings of his heart may be broken, and that a penitent condition of mind may take possession of him, and in the fulness of a new borth he may cry aloud, 'O Lord, once I was blind, noo I see!'"

When Thomas Turnbull and his wife arrived home, they found the younger members of their family in an excited state of hilarity. The youngest daughter was mimicking Jimmy perfectly, and had her brothers and sister in fits of laughter. Their father could not refrain from joining in the fun, but the mother was quiet and pensive, and got rather huffed when her husband chided her in his good-humoured way with being indifferent to the happy surroundings. Poor woman, she was troubled about Jimmy's prayer, and thought it irreligious to be joyous in the midst of such dark mystery.

The following afternoon, Mrs. Turnbull paid a visit to Mrs. Clarkson, who listened with eager interest to the account of the meeting, and when the words of the closing prayer were conveyed an anxious look came over her countenance, and she made an effort to change the subject, without, however, preventing Mrs. Turnbull from detecting her confusion.

"Let us talk of something else; I do not like," said she, "conversing about sensational things; it makes me nervous. And if I were you, I would try to forget what has been said to you about important personages being involved in lawless traffic. It will only make you unhappy, and serve no good purpose. If there is anything of the sort going on, it will be discovered, and those that are guilty will be brought to justice."

Mrs. Turnbull did not pursue the subject any farther, but the sad, pained look of her hostess became fixed in her memory. She could not shake the conviction from her that Mrs. Clarkson was haunted by the dread of some one belonging to herself having some connection with Jimmy's prayer.

Mrs. Turnbull paid frequent visits to the farm, and one winter evening she happened to be there when a violent snowstorm made the ground impa.s.sable, so she was prevailed upon to stay until the following day.

The household consisted of Mrs. Clarkson, her sister, and two nieces, who were very pleased to have the company of a woman who was so full of information and reminiscence. Her mother was said to have been the daughter of a Scottish law-lord's son, who was disinherited because he was thought to have married beneath his station--that is, instead of marrying the lady selected by his father from his own cla.s.s, who had nothing in common with him, he had chosen and fixed his affections on a lady outside his rank, who was talented, had high intellectual and religious qualities, and good looks, but was financially poor. Mrs.

Turnbull had excited the curiosity of the two young ladies by relating this part of her history, and they were naturally eager to hear more.

With that object in view, they asked their aunt to allow her to sleep in their room, and the request was granted. The good lady, however, had said all that she intended to say about herself, and notwithstanding the ingenious and persuasive requests of her young friends, she stood steadfastly to her resolve. She talked to them about the farm and their aunt and cousins, and her own family, and the religious work that was being carried on, but never another word about herself or her ancestry could be drawn from her. Perhaps it was that she considered it scarcely wise to discuss romance with young girls.

And so they talked themselves out about other things, and then went to sleep.

Early in the morning, Mrs. Turnbull was awakened by what she took to be a door slamming. She got up with the intention of closing it, and then heard voices talking, sometimes in an ordinary tone, but for the most part in an excited whisper. She listened, with the bedroom door ajar, and heard the voice of Mrs. Clarkson say--

"If you do not dissociate yourself from these wicked men you will come to grief. You are supposed to be in Australia. Indeed, it may be that Mr. Turnbull has his suspicion even now that I am harbouring an accomplice of the men whose trade is smuggling, and who try to get rid of those who prevent them carrying it on. I beseech you to cut yourself adrift from that other man, who, I believe, has you under his influence, and who, I feel sure, is a.s.sociated with this gang of lawbreakers."

At this stage, Mrs. Turnbull could not restrain the desire to cough.

She did try to subdue it, but Mrs. Clarkson's companion whispered to her--

"Whist! I hear some one on the landing."

"Do not fear," said Mrs. Clarkson; "it is only the wind making noises through the trees."

But her companion knew better, so not another word was spoken.

The next morning Mrs. Clarkson looked worried, but she was quite affable with her guest, who acted her part without giving the slightest suspicion of having overheard the little nocturnal conversation.

Immediately after breakfast, Mrs. Turnbull bade farewell to the family, and was soon in the thick of domestic matters in her own home.

That night's experience at the Dean Farm settled the destiny of several families. The information unwittingly gleaned and discreetly used, led to far-reaching consequences to the district, and to all those involved.

It was well known that the smugglers had places of concealment other than the accommodation gratuitously given them by certain farmers. The secret of the real cave's whereabouts was successfully kept, but one of those accidents that often come to disturb the current of human affairs led to an important discovery.

Softly the night wind blew over a gla.s.sy sea. The sound of the rippling water on the reef of rocks and on the sandy beach had a weird, melancholy effect. Then came the dull noise of m.u.f.fled oars commingling with the cawing of the gull and hollow surging of the waters into the Fairy Rocks. There was neither moon nor stars visible, but in the bay the experienced eye could discern the mysterious lugger. There she lay, hove to, or anch.o.r.ed below the Dean House, which could be seen peeping out between two sandy hills. A dim light--which, to the uninformed, would have conveyed the impression of a light in a cottage window, but which was really a signal to the smugglers that the coast was clear--flickered in a line with the sandy valley; and, in truth, the quietude of the night betokened all was well. The landing was successfully made without interruption, and the men gaily entered on the task of transporting the cargo to its destination, believing, as they had a right to believe, that a big haul would be stored without a single hitch in the process. The accomplices scattered after their work was done, and the sailors returned to their vessel, no doubt well satisfied with the night's enterprise. But notwithstanding the many scouts they sent out, they were quite oblivious of the fact that their movements had been closely watched. Sail was set, and the sneaking craft crept out into the illimitable darkness, having apparently completed its work unseen by unfriendly eyes. There was not a little talk round the countryside about the landing that had taken place without any one in authority to check its progress. Wise, knowing people said it was timidity, and others attributed it to indifference to the public service; the truth being, it was neither the one nor the other. It was, in fact, a carefully-planned scheme to discover exactly where the mysterious cave was situated; and although in spite of exhaustive search the entrance to it could not be found, they had got a clue to its locality. A vigorous policy of exploration was inaugurated, but after many weeks of toil the operations were abandoned without the mystery having been penetrated. It was thought that time and opportunity would solve the problem, but how it was to be solved no one knew. There was, indeed, great speculation as to what might happen should another landing be attempted, but month after month pa.s.sed without any indication of this, and the little population had settled down to a dull monotony.

Except for a casual reference to the stirring times, the smugglers and their emissaries were apparently all but forgotten. The Preventive men were secretly as much on the alert as when the smugglers were most active. They purposely adopted an apparent indifference with the idea of luring the rovers into over-confidence. Each party took into account the possibility of being betrayed. In all secretive illegal societies there are suspects. Jimmy Stone having changed his mode of life, suspicion fell very naturally on him; but though he sometimes darkly hinted at the ident.i.ty and the secrets of his late allies, he was never known to definitely divulge anything that would incriminate them. The nephew of Mrs. Clarkson was another marked man, as was also a friend of his. The former had been very little heard of in those parts since the night that his aunt implored him to give up his a.s.sociates. The last that was really seen of Lawrence and his friend, they were drinking together in a public-house, and a few days after some of their torn and blood-stained clothes were found in a lonely hedged-in lane close by the moor. This dreaded place was called the "Mugger's Lonnin" by the country-folk, owing to its being a camping-ground for the gipsies, and from end to end it was prolific of bramble-berries and other wild fruit. When the children went during the summer months to gather these they were always accompanied by a few grown-up people, as it was believed that many terrible tragedies had happened there. The discovery of the clothes and the patches of blood right in the middle of the lonnin was indicative of a foul murder having taken place, and the bodies dragged along the gra.s.s to some place of concealment. Search parties were formed, bloodhounds were called into requisition, but no trace of the murdered lads'

bodies could be found, and for many months this supposed terrible crime was sealed in mystery. A few people were callous enough to say that they were convinced that no murder had taken place, but these were very unpopular. The greater part of the small colony liked sensation, and nursed this one a.s.siduously until an almost greater came to hand by it leaking out that the two men had been expeditiously sent to Australia, and that the blood on their clothes was not their own, but that of a sheep which had been killed for the purpose of misleading. This exciting revelation lead to important issues. Were they really alive and in Australia? Had they been bribed to reveal the secrets of their former friends, or was it dread of capture that caused them to be sent out of the country? These were some of the outspoken conjectures that flowed with ever-increasing imagination.

The real facts never became known, but the tales of these stirring times have been handed down in more or less hyperbolic form. It may be fairly a.s.sumed that Thomas Turnbull got reliable information from some source which he was never known to disclose, and having got it, he hastened to use it judiciously and to advantage.

The entrance to the cave was at last found at a spot where he and his comrades had many times traversed. It was so ingeniously concealed that they might have searched until the day of doom, and it could never have been found but for the agency that conveyed him to the spot. Tradition speaks of it being a long subterranean pa.s.sage, running east to west, and opening out close to a road that was quite accessible to carts. It was honeycombed with compartments, and so carefully were they constructed that only the initiated could have discovered their locality. Some of the cells still contained quant.i.ties of contraband, so that the Board of Customs made a good haul.

Turnbull frequently rubbed shoulders with men and women who eloquently declaimed against the smugglers and their allies. He knew these people were in the inner circle of the traffic. He realized also that it was not good policy to let them see that he knew that they were merely acting a part. He might some day have to make use of them. There was a section who never disguised their antipathy to him. They saw that through him the day of smuggling on that part of the coast was well-nigh over--if not over altogether. It was he who had been the instrument of emptying the vaults of treasure which they regarded as legitimately theirs, and closing them to further enterprise. It was, in fact, the system that he represented that was paralyzing their honest efforts of contributing to their means of subsistence! These were only some of the many indictments proclaimed against him and his colleagues. The aggrieved ones strolled about with an air of injured virtue, and their ferocious looks and veiled threats at the intruder as he pa.s.sed along betokened the belief in their prescriptive right to plunder the Revenue. I think it is Macaulay who says that "no man is so merciless as he who is under a strong self-delusion."

The seizure of the storehouse gave a staggering blow to the "fair-traders," but it did not prevent them from making another desperate attempt to land their wares, and also to have their revenge by destroying a few of her Majesty's servants. On dark nights the horn lanterns were seen about the links, the flare-light flashed across the sea, and the curlew's shrill call was heard. These signs were now known to the Preventive staff; but they also had their signs and their means of conveying news, so that when the low, sneaking black lugger again appeared, they were ready for the fray.

There she was, snugly anch.o.r.ed in the sleepy bay. The first boat-load had left her side. The slow, dull sound of the horses' hoofs vibrated through the hollows, and the night wind from the fields of sleep blew softly over the rustling bents, causing a weird, peaceful lullaby. The boat's bow is run on to the beach, a dozen or more men jump from her into the water and haul her up as far as the weight of the cargo will allow. They then commence to discharge. Again the curlew's call is heard, again the sharp flare-light is seen; but no aid comes. The cargo is landed at high-water mark; they realize something is wrong, and hesitate whether to re-ship or re-embark without it. They are soon disillusioned. A horse gallops madly from the south. The rider shouts at the top of his voice, "Run, sailors, run! Treachery!" and then heads his horse full speed in the direction he came from, and is soon lost to view. The men push their boat into the sea, and row with all their might towards the vessel. Bullets from a score of muskets whiz over their heads; but they are accustomed to this, and lay their backs into the oars with increased vigour. Meanwhile, a coble sails almost peacefully alongside their ill-fated craft. In an instant a crowd of concealed men rush aboard and call out, "Surrender!" But smugglers were not given to surrender when merely requested, so a hand-to-hand fight took place. The b.u.t.t-end of muskets were freely used, and to some purpose. There was no heroic effort to get at the powder magazine, so that they might blow themselves and everybody else up.

The lugger was in undisputed possession of the Revenue men before the boat from the sh.o.r.e reached her. They, too, were quickly disposed of, after a short, angry, though feeble resistance. Stringent precautions were taken to prevent any blowing-up exploits. The whole gang were well secured against that, and any other hostile outbreaks. This having been done to the satisfaction of the officer in charge, the anchor was weighed, a course was shaped towards the south, and the last of the low, black, romantic luggers, with their gallant crews, pa.s.sed away, never more to be seen on this part of the coast.

Recognition of the deeds done by the dauntless heroes of that age in the Government service was very scanty. It may be they did not expect it. In that case they were rarely disappointed. Thomas Turnbull seems to have got his reward in being allowed to remain on the station until the time came to retire on a pension. He went about his routine work with placid regularity, and devoted what leisure he had to widening his reading, which consisted mainly of history, theology, and Burns's poems. He was never known to miss his cla.s.s-meeting, and travelled eight miles each way to keep his pulpit appointments on Sundays. He sometimes entertained his family and the young folk that visited them by relating his experiences with the smugglers, but his greatest pleasure was in holding religious meetings in one or other of the fishers' cottages. In this he was gratuitously aided by Jimmy Stone, who entered into his work with energy, zeal, and oftentimes amazing resource. Jimmy had developed a form of religious mania, insisting on the theory that he was, as a preacher, a direct descendant of the Apostles. This a.s.sumption severely taxed the Christian virtues of the little society. Turnbull, who had a keen sense of humour, viewed the new situation with intense amus.e.m.e.nt, and always excused the foibles of his old convert up to the time of leaving the district to end his own eventful career within easy reach of his family, who were all grown-up and doing well. Jimmy did not long survive him, but he lived long enough to see the pa.s.sing away of that spiritual wave that had changed his whole life.