Chapter 13. A Startling Discovery

________________________________________________
_ CHAPTER THIRTEEN. A STARTLING DISCOVERY

The two lads were such close companions, and so much accustomed to wander off together of an afternoon, fishing, cliff-climbing, and collecting eggs, insects, minerals, or shells, that their long absences were not considered at all extraordinary, though they were noticed by both Mrs Burnet and Lady Ladelle, and one evening formed the subject of a few remarks at dinner.

The Doctor and his wife often dined at the old manor-house, and upon this occasion Mike's mother asked her visitors if they did not think they wandered too much.

"No," said Sir Francis, taking the answer out of his guests' mouths laughingly. "Mrs Burnet doesn't think anything of the kind, so don't you put such ideas in her head."

"But they are often so late, my dear."

"Well, it's summer-time, and cooler of an evening. Pleasantest part of the day. If they work well, let them play well. Eh, Burnet?"

"Certainly," said the Doctor, "so long as they don't get into mischief. But do they work well?"

"What do you say, Mr Deane?" said the baronet.

"Admirably," replied the tutor; "but I must say that I should like them to have a couple of hours' more study a day--say a couple of hours in the afternoon."

"No," said the Doctor emphatically. "You work them well with their English and classics and calculations every morning: let them have some of Nature's teaching of an afternoon, and strengthen their bodies after you've done strengthening their heads."

"I side with you, Burnet," said the baronet. "Let them go on as they are for a year or two, and then we'll see."

The tutor bowed. "I only thought I was not doing enough for them," he said apologetically.

"Plenty, my dear sir--plenty. I like to see them bringing home plenty of litter, as the servants call it."

"Yes," said the Doctor, "all's education. I see Lady Ladelle fidgets about her boy, just as my wife does. They'll be all right. They can't go very far from home."

"But I always dread some accident," said Mrs Burnet.

"Yes, my dear, you are always inventing something, and have been ever since Vince broke his leg."

"Through going into dangerous places," said Mrs Burnet.

"Well, yes, that was from a cliff fall; but he might have done it from tumbling off a wall or over a chair."

Just when this conversation was taking place the boys were slowly trudging home from their "retreat," as they called it--coming by a circuitous way, for the fact was very evident that old Daygo did spend a good deal of time in watching the boys' proceedings, and Vince was strongly of opinion that he suspected their discovery.

But Mike was as fully convinced to the contrary.

"He has no idea of it, I'm sure; but he is curious to know where we go. The old chap always talks as if the island belonged to him. He'd better not interfere with it if he does find out; but, I say, fancy old Daygo scrambling down through that passage. I should like to see him."

"I shouldn't," said Vince, "especially after all we've done."

For a month had glided away, and they had been pretty busy, during their many visits to the place, carrying all kinds of little things which they considered they wanted, with the result that the lanthorn and a supply of candles always stood in a niche a short distance down the passage; short ropes were fastened wherever there was one of the sharp or sloping descents, so that they could run down quickly; and in several places a hammer and cold chisel had been utilised so as to chip out a foothold.

In the caverns themselves there was a fireplace, a keg which they kept supplied with water, a small saucepan, a little frying-pan, and a common gridiron, all of which had been bought and brought for them by the skipper of the little smack which touched at the island like a marine carrier's cart once a week.

Then they had an axe and saw, and stored up driftwood for their fire; fishing lines and a good supply of hooks; a gaff and many other objects, including towels--for the pools in the outer cavern's mouth were now their regular places for bathing.

As the time went on the novelty of possessing such a curious secret place did not wear off. On the contrary, the satisfaction it afforded them grew, the more especially that the journey to and fro had become much more simple, for they had picked out the easiest way through the oak wood, knew the smoothest path among the granite blocks, and were always finding better ways of threading the rugged chaos at the bottom of the ridge slope.

As far as they could see ahead it seemed to them that there was nothing more to discover, and they might go on keeping the place entirely to themselves till they were grown up.

But at sixteen or so we do not know everything. It was the day after the conversation at the old manor-house that, after a long morning with Mr Deane, the two boys met as usual, and started in the opposite direction to that which they intended to take, for they had not taken many steps before Vince kicked out sidewise and struck Mike on the boot.

"What did you do that for?" said the other angrily.

"'Cause I liked;" and a tussle ensued, half serious on one side, jocular on the other.

"Now," whispered Vince, "break away and run towards that bay, and I'll chase you."

"What for? What's come to you this afternoon?"

"Don't look round. Old Daygo's sitting under a stone yonder smoking his pipe."

Mike obeyed, running off as hard as he could go, chased by Vince, till they were well out of sight, and then, by making a _detour_ of a good half-mile, they reached the oak wood a long way north of their customary way of entrance, and began to plod onward towards their goal.

"That's what they call throwing dust in any one's eyes, isn't it?" said Mike, laughing.

"Yes," said Vince, "and we shall have to make it sand with old Joe. He's getting more and more suspicious, though I don't see why it matters to him. You see, we never go near him now to ask him to take us out fishing, or into one of the west bays to shell, and he thinks we have something else on the way."

"Well, so we have, and--Hullo, Joe! you there?"

"Yes, young gentleman, I'm here," said Daygo gruffly, as he suddenly came upon them in a little opening in the wood. "I thought you'd gone down to the west bays."

"Well, we did think of going; but it's cooler and more shady here. The sun does come down so strongly there under the cliffs. Seen any rabbits?"

"Two on 'em," said the man; "but you won't ketch them. Dog couldn't do it, let alone you. Ounce o' shot's only thing I know that runs fast enough to ketch them."

It was an awkward predicament, and both lads had the same feeling that they would like to go off at once in another direction, only that they shrank from leaving the old fisherman, for fear he should find the way down into the caves.

They wandered on in his company for a few minutes, and then Vince took the initiative and cried,--

"I say, I'm sick of this; it's dreadful. Come out on the common somewhere, so that we can get down to the sea."

"I don't think you can get down anywhere near here. Can you, Joe?" asked Mike.

"Oh yes," said the old man; "easy enough. I'll show you a place if you like."

"Come on, then!" cried Vince eagerly.

"Off here, then," said Daygo; "on'y I ought to tell you that you won't enjy yourselves, for it'll take Doctor Burnet all his time to pull you both together again."

The old fellow burst into a fit of chuckling at this, and looked from one to the other, thoroughly enjoying their disgusted looks.

"There, I knew he was making fun of us. Of course there's no way down," grumbled Mike. "Come on out of this scrimble-scramble place. What's the good of tiring ourselves for the sake of seeing a rabbit's white cotton tail."

Vince was about to follow his companion, but turned to shout after Daygo.

"I say, when are you going to take us fishing again?"

"When you two young gents likes to come; on'y you've both been so mortal proud lately. Never come anigh to me, and as to wanting a ride in a boat, not you. Got one of your own somewheres, I suppose. Hev yer?"

Mike shook his head, and they went on in silence for a few minutes before Mike whispered,--

"What shall we do: creep back and watch him?"

"No. If we did we should come upon him directly. He's watching us, I'm sure. Let's go to the cliff edge somewhere for a bit, and then go to the other side of the island. We shan't get down to the cave to-day."

As far as they could tell they were unobserved the next afternoon, and after exercising plenty of caution they reached the mouth of the little river tunnel and dropped down out of sight one after the other in an instant. In fact, so quick was their disappearance that it would have puzzled the keenest searcher as to where they had gone. For one moment they were standing upon a piece of lichen-covered granite, the next they had leaped in among the brambles, which parted for them to pass through and sprang up again, the lads dropping on to the old stream bed, which they had carefully cleared of stones. They left no footmarks there, and they were careful to preserve the thin screen of ferns and bramble, so that a watcher would have credited them with having ducked down and crept away.

This ruse, trifling as it may seem, added to their enjoyment of their hiding-place, and as soon as they were in darkness they struck a light and went on down to the caves, had a look round, and Mike immediately began to get down the fishing lines which hung from a wooden peg driven into a granite crack.

"Never mind the fish to-day," said Vince, who was busily fixing a fresh piece of candle in the lanthorn.

"Why? We're not hungry now, but we shall be before we go back. Hullo! what are you going to do?"

"Wait a bit, and you'll see," replied Vince, who now took a little coil of rope from where it hung, and then asked his companion's assistance to extricate something which he had placed in the belt he wore under his jersey.

"Why, whatever have you got here?"

"Grapnel," was the reply; and Vince began to rub the small of his back softly. "I say, how a thing like that hurts! It's worse than carrying a hammer. I'm quite sore."

Mike laughed, and again more heartily upon seeing Vince begin to secure the grapnel with a sea-going knot to the length of rope.

"Let those laugh that lose," cried Vince sententiously; "they are sure to who win."

"Enough to make any one laugh," cried Mike. "What are you going to bait with?"

"You, if you like," said Vince sharply, "Wonder what I should catch?"

"Here! no nonsense," cried Mike: "what are you really going to do?"

"What we've been talking about so long. Try and get up through that crack up there."

Mike whistled.

"Why, of course," he said. "What a good idea! But I don't believe it goes in above a foot or two."

"Oh yes, it does," said Vince decisively. "I thought so a little while ago, but last time we came I found out that it goes ever so far, and so I brought this hook."

"And never told me."

"Telling you now, aren't I?"

"But how did you know?"

"Saw a pigeon fly out."

"Well, that proves nothing. It only flew in to settle for a bit, and then came out again."

"That's what I fancied," said Vince, trying his knot by standing upon the grapnel and tugging hard with both hands at the rope; "but I watched while you were lying on your back asleep and saw others go in and come out."

"Well, that only shows that there are several nests there instead of one. I say, let's bring some paste next time we come and make a pigeon pudding of young ones. I'll get our cook to make us some. I'll tell her what we want it for, and she'll think we are going to make a sort of picnic dinner under a rock somewhere."

"Wait a bit, and let's try first," said Vince. "There, I'm ready now. We did talk about examining that great crack when we came, but I thought it wasn't worth the trouble till yesterday. I fancy it leads into another cave."

"Hope it does," said Mike. "Make this place all the more interesting."

"Couldn't," said Vince shortly. "Come along and let's see if I can catch a big fish without a bait."

They went to the darkest corner of the outer cave, where the roof was highest, and after laying the rope ready, Vince took hold of it about two feet from the large triple hook, swung it to and fro several times, and then sent it flying upward towards the roof, where it struck the edge of the jagged crack ten feet or so above their heads and came down with a loud clang.

"One," said Mike. "Three offers out."

"All right: you shall have your innings then," said Vince, picking up the hook, aiming more truly, and again sending it flying up.

This time it passed right up out of sight and fell back, striking the bottom of the crack and glancing off again to the floor, falling silently into the sand.

"Two," cried Mike. "He won't do it."

"Wait a bit," said Vince, and he swung the hook upward. There was a click, and it stayed just within the crack; while the lad laughed. "Now," he cried, "can't I do it?"

"No!" said Mike triumphantly, for at the first jerk of the rope the iron fell back into the sand.

"You don't know how to throw a grapnel," said Mike, picking up the rope. "There, stand aside and I'll show you."

Vince drew back, and after a good deal of swinging, Mike launched the grapnel upward, so that it passed right into the hole some distance from the length of rope which followed; then came a click, and the rope hung swinging from the sloping roof.

"There!" cried Mike.

"It'll come away as soon as you pull it."

Mike gave the rope a tug, then a sharp jerk, and another, before, raising his hands and grasping it as high as he could, he took a run, and then, raising his legs, let himself swing to and fro.

"Bear anything," he cried. "There, you'd better go first."

"You fastened it," said Vince, "so you've got first go."

"No, it was your idea. Up with you! but you've scared the pigeons away."

Vince seized the rope as high as he could reach, twisted it about his leg, pressing the strong strands against his calf with the edge of his shoe-sole, and then began to climb slowly, drawing himself up by the muscular strength of his arms, while the rope began to revolve with him slowly.

"Meat's burning," cried Mike, grinning. "Wants basting;" and he picked up handsful of sand to scatter over the climber's back.

But Vince was too busy to heed his interruption, and by trying hard he soon drew himself right into the narrow crack, and the next minute only his boots were visible, and they were drawn out of sight directly after.

"Well?" cried Mike; "what have you found?"

"Grapnel," panted Vince; for climbing a single thin rope is hard work.

"Yes, but what else?"

"Big crack, which goes right in. Light the lanthorn and fasten, it to the end of the rope."

This was soon done and the light drawn up.

"I say, play fair!" cried Mike, as the lanthorn disappeared; "don't go and do all the fun yourself."

For answer Vince threw him down the rope, which he had freed from the lanthorn.

"Come up," he said shortly; and Mike, who began to be deeply interested, his curiosity now being excited, seized the rope and began in turn to climb.

He was as active as his companion, and as much accustomed to rope work, the pair having often let themselves down portions of the cliff and climbed again in their search for eggs; so that in another minute he too was in the crack, dimly lit by the lanthorn, which Vince had set low down, where the fracture in the rock began to close in towards where it was again solid.

"Don't seem much of a place," said Mike, rising upright, but having to keep himself in that position by resting a foot on either side of the rift. "Goes in, though."

"Yes," said Vince, "and I was right, for the pigeons must have flown through."

"No," said Mike, looking about: "nests somewhere on one of the ledges."

"Are no ledges here," said Vince: "the top goes up to a point. Shall we go on?"

"Of course," said Mike; and, taking up the lanthorn, Vince began to shuffle himself along the narrow, awkward place, till, at the end of a dozen yards, in darkness which grew thicker as he went, the great crack turned suddenly right off to the right, and again directly after to the left.

"Why, it looks just the same shape as a flash of lightning," cried Mike. "Does it get any bigger?"

"Doesn't seem to," was the reply; "but there's plenty of room to walk along."

"Walk? I don't call this walking? I'm going along like a lame duck striddling a gutter. I say, think there's ever been water along here?"

"Sure there hasn't," said Vince, holding the light low down. "Why, you can see. The rock isn't worn a bit, but looks as sharp as if it had only lately been split."

"But what could split it? The lightning?"

"No: father says these rocks crack from the water washing the stuff away from beneath them, and then the tremendous weight does the rest. But I don't know. I say, though, I shouldn't wonder if this goes on into another cave. Look here."

Mike pressed forward, and found, as his companion held up the light, that the fault in the rock shot off sharply now to the left, and sloped up at an angle of some forty-five degrees.

"Looks awkward," said Mike. "Are we going up there?"

"Of course. Why not? We can climb it."

"Oh yes, I can get up there; but it isn't very good for the boots."

Good or bad, Vince did not hesitate, but, lanthorn in hand, commenced the ascent by climbing right in the narrow part of the rift, where each foot became wedged between the sides of the opening, and had to be dragged out again as the next foot was brought over and placed in front.

"Awkward travelling," said Vince; "but you can't slip."

"Begin to feel as if I can," replied Mike--"right out of my shoes. I say, it is awkward."

The distance they had to traverse here, however, was but short, and the next angle showed that the fault was at a much easier slope, while the opening was wider, so that they got along more pleasantly. But at the end of another twenty yards the walls began to close in, and the place looked so uninviting that Mike stopped. "Hadn't we better go back?" he said. "What for?" replied Vince. "Let's see the end of it. We can't make any mistake in going back. There's no roof to fall, and no pits or holes to drop into."

"But it may go on for ever so long; and, I say, I don't believe a pigeon ever flew through here."

"Well, I don't know," said Vince. "It seemed to me as if they did, and--Hurrah, Ladle! I can see light."

"Light? So there is. Look! it must come from round the next corner. That's reflection we can see."

And so it proved: for upon passing the next sharp angle Vince found himself facing the sea, which was visible through a great arch, far larger and more rugged than that in their own cavern mouth. Going on a little farther, he found himself at the end of the singular zigzag passage, which was an opening in the roof of another and larger cavern, and into which they looked down as from a window.

It was lighter and loftier than their own, and, like it, beautifully carpeted with sand; but, to the amazement of the lads, instead of this being smooth and wind-swept, as that of their own place when they first discovered it, the floor was covered with footmarks leading from the mouth inward to where the great cave grew dim and obscure. There were sails, too, and ropes. Several small yards and spars lay together by the side of the wall, and farther in were sails and three or four oars.

But what most took their attention was the fact that, dimly outlined in the higher part of the cave there were little stacks, which looked as if they were built up of packages or bales, side by side with which, carefully stacked in the sand, were dozens upon dozens of small kegs.

As their eyes grew more familiar with the gloom at the upper end, they realised that there were a great number of these bales and kegs, the former being of three kinds, varying a good deal in shape and size.

They neither of them spoke, not daring even to whisper, for the feeling was strong upon them that the next thing they would see must be the figure of some fierce-looking smuggler in big boots, belted, carrying cutlass and pistols, and crowned with a scarlet cap.

Then they started back in alarm, for there was the sharp whirring of wings, and half a dozen pigeons darted out of the cavern, seeming to come from far back beyond the stacks of kegs and bales, and rushing out into the bright light beneath the arch.

It was nothing to mind; but their nerves were on the strain, and they breathed more freely as soon as the birds were gone. It seemed to signify that no human beings were in the higher part of the cavern, and the solemn silence of the place encouraged them at last to speak, but only in whispers.

"Wish we'd brought the rope," said Vince; "we might have got down."

"Ugh! It wouldn't be safe. They might come and catch us."

"Who might?"

"The smugglers."

"Smugglers? There are no smugglers on the Crag."

"Well, those must be smuggled goods, anyhow," said Mike.

"Can't be."

"What are they, then? I'll be bound to say that those little kegs have all got 'Hollands' or French spirits in them, and the packages are silk and velvet, and the other parcels laces and things--perhaps tobacco."

"But we never heard of smuggling here. Who can it be?"

"Well, that's what they are, for certain," said Mike. "It's just like what one's read about. They must be ever so old--a hundred years, perhaps--and been put here and forgotten."

"Perhaps so," said Vince.

"Then we'll claim them for ours," said Mike decisively. "They can't belong to anybody else now. Nobody can be alive who brought them a hundred years ago."

"No," said Vince; "but I don't see how we can claim them. I say, though, it shows that boats can get into the cove."

"Or could at one time."

"Place wouldn't alter much in a hundred years. I do wish, though, we had brought the rope. Perhaps as soon as we touch those bales they'll all tumble into dust."

"And all the kegs have gone dry," said Mike.

"And all we can see before us only so much dust and touchwood. I say, Mike, we shan't be very rich from our find. I do wish we had brought the rope. Let's go back and get it."

"Let's go back soon," replied Mike; "but I don't think we'll come again to-day. My head feels all of a whizz."

"Yes, it is exciting," said Vince thoughtfully. "Perhaps you're right: we won't come back to-day." And, contenting themselves with a long, searching inspection from the window-like place they occupied, they soon after returned, and, after placing the grapnel so that it could be jerked out, went down the rope, got the iron hooks loose, and seated themselves to think.

That evening they got home early, each so full of the great discovery that, when they went to bed, it was long before they slept, and then their brains were busy with strange dreams, in which one was fighting for his life against a host of well-armed men, the victor taking a vessel with the treasure of valuable silks and spices, and making his parents rich people to the last.

But an idea was dominant with both when they woke, soon after sunrise. They must go back to the cavern soon, and probe the mystery to the very end. _

Read next: Chapter 14. Daygo Describes Horrors

Read previous: Chapter 12. Lost In The Darkness

Table of content of Cormorant Crag; A Tale of the Smuggling Days


GO TO TOP OF SCREEN

Post your review
Your review will be placed after the table of content of this book