The Lost Middy Part 21

"Why, anybody would guess that."

"P'raps they would and p'raps they wouldn't, my lad; but, of course, you don't know that there's the little Revenue cutter that's looking out for any little bit of smuggling going on?"

"Why, what nonsense you're talking, Eben! Of course I knew."

"Yes, of course you did, my lad; and you've got a spy-gla.s.s, haven't you!"

"No; but I use my uncle's."

"That's right; and when them two vessels come into sight 'smorning you got the gla.s.s out to see what they were?"

"Yes; directly."

"And then you went down to your boat-hole and ran over here as fast as you could?"

"Yes; but it wasn't fast, for the wind kept dropping. But how did you know this?"

"Never you mind how I knowed. You knowed that me and four mates came over here last night."

"That I didn't," cried Aleck. "What for--to run a cargo?"

"Never you mind what for, my lad. You knowed we'd come."

"That I didn't. I hadn't the least idea you had. But how did you know I got out the gla.s.s to have a look at the vessels? Bah! You couldn't know if you were over here. No one saw me but old Dunning. It's impossible."

"Is it?" said the man, with a sneer. "Then we arn't got a gla.s.s at Eilygugg, of course, eh, and n.o.body left behind to look out for squalls and run across to tell us to look out when they see the wind changing?

So, you see, clever as you think yourself, you're found out, my lad.

Now do you see?"

"I see that you're on the wrong tack, Eben," said the lad, scornfully, "and let me tell you that you've been talking a lot of nonsense. I don't see why I should tell you. It's absurd to accuse me of being a spy and informer. Do you suppose we up at the Den want to be on bad terms with all the fishermen and--and people about?"

"You mean to say you haven't put the boat's crew yonder up to taking me and my mates?"

"Of course I do. Why, I haven't even spoken to the officer, only to the midshipman."

"Well, it looks very bad," growled the man, gazing at the lad, searchingly.

"If you think a press-gang is likely to come ash.o.r.e to get hold of you and your mates, why don't you slip off into the hills for a bit?"

The man stared, and his features relaxed a little and a little more, and he caught Aleck by the sleeve.

"Look here, Master Aleck," he said; "the captain yonder's a gentleman, though we arn't very good friends, but he never did anything to get any of us took."

"Of course he didn't."

"Wouldn't like you to, p'raps."

"Why, of course he wouldn't. If the fleet want men they'll get them somehow, and the Revenue cutter will hunt out the smugglers sooner or later; but for you to think that I'm on the look-out always to do you a bad turn--why, it's downright foolishness, Eben."

"Well, I'm beginning to think it is, my lad," said the man, smiling; "but that's just what they thought at home, and my young brother Bill ran across to give us the warning. I put that and that together, and I felt as sure as sure that you'd come over to inform agen us."

"But you don't believe it now?"

"No, my lad, I don't believe it now," said Eben, "and I'm glad on it, because it would be a pity for a smart young chap like you to be in for it."

"In for what?" said Aleck.

"For what? Ah, you'd soon know if you did blow upon us, my lad. But, there, I don't believe it a bit now, and I got some'at else to do but stand talking to you, so I'm off. Only, you know, my lad, as it's the best thing for a chap like you as wants to live peaceable like with his neighbours to keep his mouth shut--_mum--plop_."

The two last words were sounds made by slapping the mouth closely shut and half open with the open hand, after doing which Eben Megg stepped down the narrow turning and mysteriously disappeared.

"Bother him and his bullyings and threats," cried Aleck. "Such insolence! But, there, I must see about my paper and get back."

CHAPTER TWELVE.

Left alone in the boat, Tom Bodger sat down on one of the thwarts with his wooden pegs stuck straight out before him. Then he brought them close together with a sharp rap and began to rub one over the other gently; but these movements had nothing to do with the thinking, though he more than once told himself that he thought better when he was rubbing his legs together.

As he sat there he naturally enough began to watch the man-o'-war boat with her smart young officer and neat, trim-looking crew, while, continuing his inspection, he ran his eyes over the boat and admired its beautiful lines.

This brought up memories of the time when career and body had both been cut short by that unlucky cannon ball, leaving him a cripple and a pensioner.

"But I dunno," he said to himself, in a way he had of making the best of things, "if I hadn't been hit I might ha' lived on and been drowned, and then there'd ha' been no pension to enj'y as I enj'ys mine; and I don't never have to buy no boots nor shoes, so there arn't much to grumble about, arter all."

So Tom sat rubbing his wooden legs together, watching the sailors in the boat, thinking of how he'd been c.o.xswain of just such a boat as that, and then beginning to feel an intense longing to compare notes with the men left with the middy in charge; but the young officer kept his men in order, and twice over had them busily at work stowing away the vegetables, fresh meat, bacon, and b.u.t.ter that were brought down from time to time and packed well out of the way fore and aft.

Consequently there was no opportunity allowed for him to get up a gossip, the young officer looking fiercely important, and the men making no advance.

"Beautifully clean and smart," said Tom. "Wonder how long Master Aleck'll be."

Then he swept the edge of the pier ten feet above his head in search of inimical boys, letting one hand down by his side to finger his cudgel, and indulging in a chuckle at the skilful way in which he had brought down the young offender a short time before.

"Pretty well scared him away," said Tom to himself; "he won't show himself here again to-day."

But as it happened Tom was wrong, for the boy, after landing in safety, with the water streaming down inside his ragged breeches and escaping at the bottom of the legs when it did not slip out of the holes it encountered on its way, had made his way up the steep cliff and round to the back of the town so as to get up on the moorland, where the sun came down hotly, when he began to drip and dry rapidly.

He could sweep the pier and harbour now easily, looking over the fishing-boats and watching those belonging to the man-o'-war and Aleck Donne, with Tom Bodger sitting with his legs sticking straight out.

And then he called Tom Bodger a very seaside salt and wicked name, in addition to making a vow of what he would do to "sarve him out."

The boy gave another glance round as if in search of coadjutors, but all his comrades had disappeared; so he stood thinking and drying as he turned his thoughts inland, with the result that he had a happy thought, under whose inspiration he set off at a trot round by the back of the little town till he came within view of a group of patches of sandy land roughly fenced in and divided by posts of wreck-wood and rails covered with pitch--rough fragments that had once been boat planks.

He ran a little faster now, and externally did not seem wet, for his hair was cropped so short that no water could find a lodgment, and his worn-old, knitted blue shirt and cloth breeches had ceased to show the moisture they had soaked up.

Once within hearing of the rough fenced-in gardens he put both hands to his mouth and uttered a frightful yell, with the result that a head suddenly shot up from behind one of the fences, and its owner was seen down to the waist, looking as if he were leaning upon an old musket.

But this was only the handle of a hoe, and the holder proved to be Big Jem, occupied in his father's garden, where he had been hoeing and earthing up potatoes in lazy-boy fashion with a chip-chop and a long think, supplemented by a rest at the end of each row to chew tobacco.