The Lost Middy Part 31

The smuggler was very far from being dead, for he muttered a few words, and then all at once they heard the backs of his hands strike the boat sharply, while to their horror he yelled out the word "Cowards!"

Tom Bodger was active enough, in spite of his misfortune, as he abundantly proved--perhaps never more so than on this occasion--when again, with almost the action of a toad, he leaped right upon the smuggler, driving him back just as he was trying to rise, and covering his face with a broad chest and smothering his next cries.

Then Aleck grew more horrified than ever, for a tremendous struggle began, the smuggler, evidently under the impression that he was in the hands of the press-gang, fighting hard for his liberty, bending himself up and calling to his companions for help. But his voice sounded dull and stifled, and in spite of his strength Tom's position gave him so great an advantage that he was able to keep him down.

"Mind, mind, Tom," whispered Aleck; "you are smothering him."

"And a precious good thing too, Master Aleck. He'll say thankye when he knows. Why, if I let him have his own way he'd--lie still, will yer?-- want to have the press-gang down upon us. Lookye here, messmet, if you don't lie quiet I'll make Master Aleck come and sit on yer too."

"But I'm afraid, Tom."

"So'm I, my lad. Pretty sort o' onreasonable beggar. Asts us to save him from the King's men, and when we've got him off, kicking up such a fillaloo as this to show 'em where we are. I arn't got patience with him, that I arn't."

The man struggled again so violently that he got his hand on one side, making the boat rock and Tom Bodger grunt in his efforts to keep his prisoner down.

"It's no good, Master Aleck," he whispered, hoa.r.s.ely; "if I'd got my legs I could twist 'em round him and keep him still; but there's no grip in a pair of wooden pegs. Come and sit on his knees and help keep him quiet. Lash the helm, sir. She'll run easy enough then."

But at this the smuggler suddenly ceased his desperate efforts to get free, and lay perfectly still.

"He's turned over a noo leaf, Master Aleck, and p'raps I shall manage him now. I say, wish I hadn't put them two pieces o' board over the pitch; he's got it just under his back, and it would have helped to hold him still."

"Who's that?" said the smuggler, hoa.r.s.ely.

"It's me, what there is left on me," growled Tom. "Great ugly rough 'un. Best thing you can do will be smuggle me a noo blue shirt from Ja.r.s.ey."

"Tom Bodger?"

"Tom Bodger it is."

"Why are you sitting on me? I thought--"

"You thought," growled Tom, scornfully. "What right's a chap like you to think?"

"But I thought the press-gang had got me."

"Well, I was pressing on yer as hard as I could to keep yer from shouting and flying out of the boat. Here's Master Aleck and me getting oursens into no end o' trouble to keep you out o' the press-gang's hands, and you begins shouting to 'em to come and take you."

"I'm very sorry, mate. I s'pose I was off my head a bit--seemed to wake up out of a bad dream about fighting. Yes, that's it; I recollect now.

Where's the gang?"

"Cruising about trying to find us."

"It's so dark. Where are we?"

"Somewheers out beyond the pier head, and it's all as black as the inside of a barrel o' pitch. Keep quiet; don't talk so loud."

"No, mate," said the smuggler, petulantly; "but I'm not quite myself. I got a crack on the head from something; I've been bleeding a bit. But, tell me, are we safe?"

"Dunno yet. Hope so."

"Am I lying in Master Aleck's boat?"

"Yes, on yer back," growled Tom. "Are yer comfy? I put in a nice noo bit o' pine board 'sevening for yer to lie on."

"No; of course I'm not comf'table with you sitting on me."

"Course you arn't. Think I am with that great bra.s.s buckle o' yourn sticking in the bottom o' my chest?"

"Is Master Aleck there?" said the smuggler, after a short pause.

"Yes, I'm here, Eben, steering."

"Ah, I can see you now, sir."

"No, yer can't," growled Tom, "so none o' your lies. Just because you want to be civil to the young master."

"I tell you I can see him quite plain. Think I've got eyes like a mole?"

"Look out then, and tell us where we are."

"How can I look out with my head down here?"

"Let him get up, Tom," said Aleck.

"Easy, Master Aleck. Let's make sure first as he won't go off his head again."

"I shan't go off my head again now I'm safe, stoopid," cried the smuggler, angrily. "Master Aleck, sir, thankye kindly for helping a poor desprit fellow. I can't say much, but my poor little wife'll say: 'Gord bless yer for this for the sake of our weans.'"

"There, don't talk about it, Eben; only let it be a lesson to you not to go smuggling any more. Do you bear?"

"Yes, sir, I hear; but this hadn't nothing to do with running a cargo or two. We was unlucky enough to be in Rockabie, and someone has sold us to the press-gang. Warn't you, were it, mate?"

"Get out!" growled Tom; "is it likely?"

"No. Someone did, but I don't believe it was old Double Dot, Master Aleck."

"And you believe I didn't, now?"

"B'lieve yer? Yes, sir; and I'll never forget this night."

"Look here," growled Tom, "hadn't you and him better be quiet, Master Aleck? You're both talking very fine about saving and gettin' free and never forgettin', and all the time there's boats out arter us and they may be clost up for all I can say. It's about the darkest night I was ever out in."

"Let me get up, mate, and have a look round," said the smuggler.

"Think he's safe, Master Aleck?"

"Oh, yes, of course. Let him get up and try if he can make out where we are."