The Lost Middy Part 29

But instead of the man running into the harbour, he turned sharp to his left on catching sight of the boat and staggered up to it.

"Who's that?" he said, hoa.r.s.ely. "You, Tom Bodger--Master Aleck? Here, quick, sir; for the love of heaven save a poor fellow! It's the press-gang. Got five on us. Help, sir! Shove off with me. I'm too dead beat to swim."

"I can't help you, Eben. I dare not," cried Aleck. "What could I do?"

"Oh! but, Master Aleck--hark! there's more coming!"

"I tell you I can't. I dare not. They're the King's men, and--"

"Where are you, your honour?" came out of the darkness, to be answered by a groan and a feeble attempt at a whistle.

"This way, lads," rang out, and there was the rush of feet and a deeper groan.

"Eben, you've killed the officer," whispered Aleck, in his horror.

"I was on'y fighting for my liberty, master," whispered the man, hoa.r.s.ely. "Master Aleck, you don't like me, I know. I'm a bad 'un, I s'pose; but there's my young wife and the little weans yonder waiting for me, and when they know--"

The great rough fellow could say no more, but choked.

"Run for it, then," said Aleck; "wrong or right, we'll try and cover you."

"It's no good, sir," whispered the man; "there's no end of 'em surrounding us, and I'm as weak now as a rat."

He caught Aleck's hand, as the lad thought, to cling to it imploringly, but the next moment he held it to his forehead, and it was s.n.a.t.c.hed away in horror, for the man had evidently been cut down and was bleeding profusely.

"He's wounded badly, Tom," whispered Aleck, excitedly. "We must help him now."

"Ay, ay, sir," said Tom, gruffly.

"Ah, the boat! The boat!" panted the smuggler.

"In with you then," said Aleck.

"Nay, nay," whispered Tom. "She arn't afloat, Eben Megg. Here, lay yer weight on to her if yer can't shove."

"Hi! hallo there!" cried a voice from the direction where the struggle had taken place.

In response there was the sound of the boat's keel grating on the water-covered shingle, and the smuggler pressed close up to Aleck's side.

"Do you hear there?" came from the same quarter. "In the King's name, stand!"

"Lay yer backs into it," grunted Tom. "Shove, my lads, shove!"

"Come on, my lads! We must have them, whoever they are," came from apparently close at hand.

"Ah, look sharp! There's a boat."

"Now for it," whispered Tom, and as he grunted hard the boat began to glide from shingle and water into water alone, while as Aleck thrust with all his might, knee-deep now, he felt the boat give way, and then it seemed to him that the smuggler sank down beside him, making a feeble clutch at his clothes and uttering a low groan.

Aleck's left hand acted as it were upon its own responsibility, closing in the darkness upon Eben's shirt and holding fast, while the lad's right hand held up the boat's gunwale.

The next moment he felt himself drawn off his feet and being dragged through the water, in which the boat was jerking and dancing as if to shake itself free.

It was too dark to see, but this is what was taking place. As the party of three were trying their best to get the little yawl afloat the shingle clung fast to its keel and very little progress was made, although Tom Bodger thrust and jerked at it with all his might, more like a dwarf than ever, for his wooden legs went down in the wet shingle at every movement, right to the socket stumps; but at last, when their efforts began to appear to be in vain, a little soft swell rolled in, just as a rush was being made by the press-gang, the boat lifted astern, and as the water pa.s.sed under it, literally leaped up forward, shaking itself free of the clinging sand and stones, and, yielding to the three launchers, glided right away.

It was none too soon. Aleck was holding on upon one side nearly amidships, while Tom on the other side let the gunwale glide through his hands till they were close to the bow, and then holding on fast with both hands he made one of his jumps or hops, to add impetus to the boat's way and get his breast over the bow and scramble in.

His bound--if it could be so-called--was very successful, for the next moment he was balanced upon his chest across the gunwale, gripping at the edge of the fore-locker, with his legs sticking out behind, and exulting over the sensation of the boat dancing under him, when he felt himself seized by one of the press-gang party, who had dashed in after the boat and made a grab at the first thing that offered in the dark.

The sailor was unlucky in his hold, but no wonder, for the darkness gave him no opportunity of making any choice, and as it happened he gripped one of Tom's pegs with his right and followed it up by clapping his left hand alongside, trying hard to drag his prisoner out or to stop the boat.

As aforesaid he was unlucky, for he was to suffer an entirely new experience. Had he grasped an ordinary human leg in the black darkness he would only have had a jerking kick or two, and most probably he would have held on, but here it was something very different.

"Got 'em!" he cried, loudly. "Come on!" and then he was smitten with a strange surprise, and also with something else.

For Tom Bodger, as he lay balanced upon the lower part of his chest, half in and half out of the boat, had got his fingers well under the side of the locker and was holding on with all the strength of his h.o.r.n.y fingers.

"Ah, would yer!" he roared, as he felt himself seized, and, unable to kick for want of yielding joints, he began to work his stumps, to his holder's horror, like a pair of gigantic shears gone mad. The one that was free struck the sailor a sounding rap on the ear and made him release his hold of the prisoned piece of timber for the moment, and when he splashed after the boat, after recovering from his surprise, and made another grab, the second free peg caught him on the arm like a blow from a constable's truncheon. The sailor uttered a yell for help, but it was cut short by a blow on each side of his neck as Tom's legs snapped together, and then he fell forward with a splash and was helped out by a couple of his mates, who stood, waist-deep, gazing into the darkness after the boat.

"Where are yer, my lads?" panted Tom, as he progressed over the side like a huge toad.

"Help! Help!" came from his right, and with the boat rocking from side to side he felt about along the gunwale till his hand came in contact with Aleck's fingers, clinging desperately to the edge of the boat.

"Got yer," said Tom, gripping the lad's wrist and hanging over the side to speak. "Can't yer hold on while I get an oar out and move her a bit furder away?"

"No. Help me in," said Aleck, huskily.

"Right, sir. Here, let me get my hands under yer arms, and I'll heave yer in. I say, wheer's Eben Megg?"

"Out here. I've got hold of him."

Tom Bodger whistled softly in his astonishment.

"Hold tight on him, my lad," he growled; and then putting forth his great strength of arm and back, he raised Aleck right over the boat's side, and as Eben was drawn close in, loosened the former and got tight hold of the latter.

"Can yer shift for yourself now, Master Aleck?" he whispered.

"Yes; but have you got Eben?"

"Ay, ay! Got him fast. Out o' my way."

The next minute the smuggler lay perfectly inert at the bottom of the boat and Aleck was pa.s.sing an oar over the stern and beginning to scull.

"Get another oar out, Tom," he whispered, "or they'll have us yet."

"Ay, ay!" was growled, softly.

But it was too loud, for a voice close at hand shouted: