The Lost Middy Part 33

"Then we will go, Tom. Why, no man-o'-war boat dare follow us there."

"That they won't, sir," said Tom, decidedly. "I say, messmet, what do you say to a couple o' reefs in the sail?"

"Let her be," said the smuggler, taking his seat by Aleck, who handed him the little tiller. "There, sir, you may say good-bye to the press-gang boats now. I daresay they'll be hanging about on their way to their ship, but we shall hug the rocks in and out all along."

All talking ceased now, and in his new-found confidence in and admiration of the smuggler's knowledge of the intricate ways between the huge rocks that had from time to time become detached from the tremendous cliffs, and stood up forming the stacks and towers frequented by the myriads of sea-birds, the lad sat in silence watching the anchor lights of the men-o'-war, which came into sight and then disappeared again and again. Then, as they approached the wall-like cliffs, it seemed to grow lighter low down where the tide rushed and broke in foam, shedding a pale lambent glow, while deep down beneath them tiny points of light were gliding along as if the whole universe of stars had fallen into the sea and were illumining the dark depths below the boat.

There was a strange fascination, too, in the ride, as without hesitation the smuggler turned the boat's head into channels where the tide rushed like a mill-race close up to towering ma.s.ses, and round and in and out, threading the smaller skittle-like pieces, whose lower parts had been fretting away beneath the action of the sea till the bottom was not a third of the distance through near the top.

Tom, too, sat very silent for a long time, chewing a piece of pigtail tobacco, evidently feeling perfectly comfortable about the smuggler's knowledge of the coast.

At last, though, he found his tongue:

"I say, messmet, how's that head o' yourn?"

"Very sore, Tommy."

"Ay, it will be. Dessay you lost a lot o' blood."

"I believe I did," said the steersman.

"Well, you're a big, strong fellow, and it'll do you good. But, I say, mind I has that hankychy back!"

"I won't forget, mate," said Eben, quietly. Then to himself, "I shan't forget this night."

"I don't like Eben Megg, and I don't like smugglers in general," Tom Bodger; "but human natur's human natur', even with old King's pensioned men as oughtn't to; but if Eben comes to me with that there hankychy and slips a big wodge of hard Hamsterdam 'bacco and a square bottle o' stuff as hasn't paid dooty into my hands in the dark some night, what am I to do? Say I can't take it? Well, I oughter, but--well, he arn't offered the stuff to me yet."

The other occupants of the boat were thinking deeply during the latter part of the sail. Aleck was wondering what his uncle would say, and Eben Megg thinking of his future, and he was startled from his reverie by Aleck, who suddenly said:

"What about the press-gang, Eben--do you think they will know you again?"

"Hope not, sir; but I'm not very comf'table about it. Someone set 'em on--someone as knows me; and, worse luck, they've got some of our chaps."

"But they haven't caught you."

"Not yet, sir, but there's chaps as don't like me, and if they've been pressed they'll be a-saying to-morrow morning as it arn't fair for them to be took and me to get away. See?"

"Yes; but what difference will that make?" The smuggler laughed aloud.

"Only that they might put the skipper of the man-o'-war cutter up to where he'd find me."

"But you had nothing to do with the cutter's men--that officer was from the sloop?"

"Ay, sir; but they're all working together, and the cutter's skipper has got a black mark against my name."

"Oh!" said Aleck, thoughtfully. "Then I suppose you'll go into hiding?"

"That's right, sir; but I shan't feel safe then. Eh, Tom Bodger?"

"Right, messmet; they'll be ferreting all along the coast arter yer.

Tell you what I should do if I was you."

"What?" said the man, eagerly.

"Have a good wash up in the morning, and then jump in a boat and go and board the sloop like a man."

"What!"

"And then, says you, 'I want to see the skipper,' you says, and as soon as he comes on deck, 'Here I am, your honour,' you says. 'I warn't going to let your men take me last night as if I were an enemy or a thief; but if the King wants sailors, here I am, and I'll sarve him like a man.'"

"Well done, Tom!" cried Aleck.

"Think so, Master Aleck?" said the smuggler. "Yes, it sounds very nice, I suppose; but it won't do. I'm the wrong sort. Can't alter now."

"You know your own affairs best, Eben," said Aleck, quietly; "but I expect they'll catch you, and then you'll be obliged to serve."

"I expecks so too, Master Aleck, but I mean to have a fight for it first. There we are. P'raps you'd better take the tiller now and run your boat into the gap. You know the way better than I do. You, too, Tom Bodger."

The latter went forward, to stand boat-hook in hand, while, after pa.s.sing the tiller to the lad, Eben laid hold of the rope and loosened it from the pin, ready to lower down the yard as soon as Aleck pa.s.sed the word.

The next minute the boat had been run into the narrow jaws of the great chasm, the sail had been lowered, and after they had glided some distance along, helped by the boat-hook deftly wielded by Tom Bodger, the smuggler suddenly sprang out on to a shelf of rock at the side.

"What are you doing?" cried Aleck. "You can't get up there in the dark."

"Can't I, sir? You wait, and I'll hail you from the top before you get up to your mooring-rings."

The smuggler kept his word, a low farewell shout coming from on high, and echoing in whispers right along the gap.

"Good-night or good morning!" he cried, and then he was gone.

"I couldn't have got up there even in daylight, Tom," said Aleck.

"Nor me nayther, sir. Might ha' done it once upon a time, but wooden legs arn't the best kind o' gear for rock-climbing, sir, any more than they are for manning the yards aboard ship; and that's why I was pensioned-off."

"Yes, Tom; but what about you to-night?"

"Me, sir? I'm a-going to kiver mysen up with the sail and snooze away in the bottom of the boat."

"Very well; and I'll bring you something to eat as soon as I get in."

"Thankye, sir; that's about the right sort for me, as I didn't make much of a business over that there bread and cheese; and here we are!"

"Make her fast, Tom," cried Aleck, springing out. "I want to go and explain to uncle. I wonder what he'll say," the lad continued, to himself, as he hurried up the slope. "He can't be so very cross when he knows all."

There was a candle burning in the kitchen window, evidently placed there to light the wanderer on his return up the gloomy depression; and, after glancing up at his uncle's room, to see that all was dark there, the lad made for the kitchen door.

This was opened, and in a voluble whisper the housekeeper began:

"Oh, Master Aleck, I've been in sech a way about you! I made sure you'd been and drownded yourself, and here have I been sitting hours, fully expecting to see your white ghost coming up the dark path from off the sea."