Home > Authors Index > George Manville Fenn > Cormorant Crag; A Tale of the Smuggling Days > This page
Cormorant Crag; A Tale of the Smuggling Days, a novel by George Manville Fenn |
||
Chapter 15. A Spy On The Way |
||
| < Previous |
Table of content |
Next > |
|
________________________________________________
_ CHAPTER FIFTEEN. A SPY ON THE WAY Punctual to the time the lads met; and Vince, who was full of old Daygo's proposal, laid it before his companion. "What!" cried Mike; "go with him, when we've got such an adventure before us! You wouldn't do that!" "Why not? We can go to the caverns any day, and this will be a chance to sail round and see what the outside of the Scraw is like." "Did he say he would take us there?" cried Mike eagerly. "No; but we'd persuade him." "Persuade him!" cried Mike, bursting into a mocking laugh. "Persuade old Joe! Why, you do know better than that." Vince frowned and said nothing, for he did know better, and felt that he had let his desires get the better of his judgment. "Very well," he said. "You'd rather not go?" "Well, wouldn't you rather go and have a look at those old things than see a few fish in a net?" "Yes, if Joe wouldn't sail round where I want to go." "Well, he wouldn't, and you know it. Why, this is a chance. You felt sure he was watching us; and he'll be off to sea, where he can't." "Off, then!" said Vince; and, full of anticipations, they made for the oak wood, and were soon at the opening, into which, without pausing to look round, they leaped down quickly; and, after lighting the lanthorn, descended as rapidly as they could to the rope. The place looked as beautiful as ever, as they slid down to the sandy floor of the inner cavern, and more than ever like the interior of some large shell; while the outer cave, with its roof alive, as it were, with the interlacing wavings and quiverings reflected from the sunny surface of the sea, would have made any one pause. But the boys had no eyes for anything that day but the wonders of their new discovery; and, quickly getting to work with the rope and grapnel, Mike threw it up. "Got a bite!" he cried. "No: he's off." For, after catching, the grapnel gave way again. The second time he missed; but the third he got another hold, and told Vince to climb first. This he did, and in a very few seconds he was two-thirds of the way up, when with a scrape the grapnel gave way, and Vince came down flat on his back in the sand, with the iron upon him. "Hurt?" cried Mike. "Not much," said Vince, rubbing one leg, which the iron had struck. "Try again." Mike threw once more, got a hold, and, to prove it, began to climb, and reached the opening safely. Then the lanthorn was drawn up, Vince followed, and this time taking the rope with them, they went along through the peculiar zigzag free from doubts and dread of dangers unknown, so that they could think only of the various difficulties of the climb. Upon nearing the open end of the fissure they kept back the lanthorn and advanced to peer down cautiously; but, save a few pigeons flying in and out, there was no sign of life. Everything was just as they had seen it before; the footprints all over the trampled sand, which had probably been made ages before, so they thought; the boat mast, sails, and ropes, were at the side, and in the shadowy upper part there were the stacks of bales and the carefully piled-up kegs. "Well?" said Mike; "shall we go down?" "Of course." "But suppose there is any one there?" "We'll soon see," said Vince; and, placing his hands to his mouth, he gave vent to a hullo! whose effect was startling; for it echoed and vibrated about the great cave, startling a flock of pigeons, which darted out with a loud whistling of wings. Then the sound came back in a peculiar way from the barrier of rocks across the bay, for there was evidently a fluttering there among the sea-birds, some of which darted down into sight just outside the mouth of the cave. "Nobody at home," said Vince merrily, "and hasn't been lately. Now then: may I go first?" "If you like," said Mike; and, after securely hooking the grapnel in a crevice, Vince threw the rope outward from him into the cavern, where it touched the sand some twenty feet below. "There we are!" he said; "that's easier than throwing it up." "Yes, but look sharp down. I want to have a good look." "After me," said Vince mockingly; and, taking the rope, he lowered himself out of the crack, twisted his leg round the hemp, and quickly dropped hand over hand to the flooring of the cave. "Ever so much bigger than ours, Mike," he shouted, and then turned sharply round, for a voice said plainly: "Ours, Mike." "I say, what an echo!" "Echo!" came back. "Well, I said so." "Said so." "Hurrah!" cried Mike, as he too reached the floor, and a soft "Rah" came from the other side. Their hearts beat fast with excitement as they stood in the middle of the cave, looking round, and pretty well taking in at a glance that it was far larger and more commodious than the one they had just quitted, especially for the purpose of a store, having the hinder part raised, as it were, into a dais or platform, upon which the little barrels and packages were stored; while behind these they were able now to see through the transparent gloom that the place ran back for some distance till flooring and roof met. Instead, too, of the entrance being barred by ridge after ridge of rocks, there was only one some little distance beyond the mouth to act as a breakwater, leaving ample room for a boat to come round at either end and be beached upon the soft sand, which lay perfectly smooth where the water slightly rose and fell. There was a fine view of the rounded cove from here; and the boys felt that if they were to wade out they would be able to get beyond the archway sufficiently to look up the overhanging face of the cliff; but, with the recollection of the quicksands at the mouth of their own cave, neither of them felt disposed to venture, and they were about to turn back and examine the goods stored behind them, when on their right there was a loud rush and a heavy splash, and Mike seized his companion's arm just as a head rose out of the water, and for a moment it seemed as if a boy was watching them, the face being only faintly seen, from the head being turned away from the light. "Seal," said Vince quietly. "Shows how long it is since any one was here, for things like that to be about!" He caught up a couple of handfuls of sand and flung it toward the creature, which dived directly, but rose again to watch them, its curiosity being greatly excited. "Won't come ashore and attack us, will it?" said Mike. "No fear. I daresay it would bite, though, if we had it in a corner, and it couldn't pass. Look! one must have come ashore there." He pointed to a smooth channel in the sand, where one of the curious animals had dragged itself a few feet from the water, going back by another way, and so forming a kind of half-moon. "Let it watch us: it don't matter," said Mike. "Come and have a look at the packages." They walked up to the pile of kegs, and Vince took one down, to find that it was peculiar in shape and hooped with wood. "Empty," he said; "it's light as can be." "Try another," said Mike; and Vince put the one he held down, and tried one after another--at least a dozen. "The stuff has all run out or evaporated," he said. "Hark here!" He tapped the end of one with his knuckles, but, instead of giving forth a hollow sound, the top sounded dead and dull. "They're not empty," he said, giving one a shake: "they must be packed full of something light. And I say, Mike, they look as if they couldn't be many years old." "That's because the cavern's so clean and dry. Let's look at the packages. I say, smell this one. There's no mistake about it--cloves!" Vince nodded, and they tried others, which gave out, some the same unmistakable odour, others those of cinnamon and nutmeg. Further examination of some small, heavy, solid packets left little doubt in the lads' minds that they were dealing with closely folded or rolled pieces of silk, and they ended their examination by trying to interpret the brands with which some of the packages were marked. "One can't be sure without opening them," said Vince eagerly; "but I feel certain that these are silk, the other packages spice, and the kegs have got gloves and lace in them. There are two kinds." "Yes; some are larger than the others. Shall we open a few of them, to see if they've been destroyed by time?" "No, not yet," replied Vince thoughtfully. "Let's go and have a look at that boat sail and the oars. Those oars ought to be old and worm-eaten--ready to tumble to pieces--and the sail-cloth like so much tinder!" Mike nodded, and followed him rather unwillingly; for the keg nearest to his hand fascinated him, and he longed intensely to force out the head. It was not many steps to where the boat gear stood and lay, and Vince began to haul it about after the first glance. "Look here, Ladle!" he cried; "these things are not so very old. The canvas is as strong as can be, and it can't be so many years since these oars were marked with a hot iron." "Oh, nonsense!" said Mike, who did not like to give up his cherished ideas; "it's because they're so dry and safe here." "It isn't," said Vince impetuously; "and look here, at all these footmarks!" "Well, what's to prevent them from being just the same after a hundred years?" "The wind," cried Vince. "If those marks were old the sand would have drifted in and covered them over quite smooth, same as the floor was in our cave before we walked about it. Mike, all these things are quite new, and haven't been put here long." "Nonsense! who could have put them?" "I don't know; but here they are, and if we don't look out some one will come and catch us. This is a smugglers' cave." "But there are no smugglers here. Who ever heard of smugglers at the Crag!" "I never did; but I'm sure these are smuggled goods." "Well, I don't know," said Mike. "It seems very queer. The cave can't be so dangerous to come to, if boats can land cargoes. Old Daygo's all wrong, then?" "Of course he is; so are all the people. Every one has told us that the Black Scraw was a terrible place, and looked as if they thought it was haunted by all kinds of sea goblins. Let's get away." "Think we'd better?" "Yes; I keep expecting to see a boat come round the corner into sight. I shouldn't like to be here when they did come." "But it's so disappointing!" cried Mike. "I thought we were going to have all this to ourselves." "I don't think I did," said Vince thoughtfully. "But I don't believe you're right, Cinder. These things can't have been put here in our time, or we must have known of it. See what a little place the Crag is." "Yes, it's small enough, but the Scraw has always been as if it were far away, and people could come here and do what they liked." "But they wouldn't be so stupid as to come here and leave things for nobody," said Mike. "Is there anybody here who would want them?" "No," replied Vince; "but smugglers might make this a sort of storehouse, and some bring the things here from France and Holland and others come and fetch them away. There, come on, and let's get up into the crack. I don't feel safe. It has regularly spoiled our place, though, for whoever comes here must know of the other cave." "Well," said Mike, as they stood by the rope, and he gazed longingly back at the rich store he was about to leave behind, "I'll come; but I don't believe you're right." "You'll soon see that I am, Ladle; for before long all these things will be taken away--perhaps by the time we come again." "If it's as you say we shan't be able to come again," replied Mike rather dolefully; and then, in obedience to an impatient sign from his companion, he took hold of the rope and climbed slowly up, passing in at the opening, and being followed by Vince directly after. Then the rope was drawn up and coiled, and both took a long and envious look at the cargo that had been landed there at some time or other, before making their way along the fissure to their own place. "I don't believe any one would do as we've done, and come along there," said Mike, as soon as they were safely back. "Perhaps, if you're right about that stuff being new, these smuggling people don't, after all, know of this cave." "They must have seen it when they were going and coming in their boat, and would have been sure to land and come in." "Land where?" said Mike scornfully. "No boat could land here, and nobody could wade in, on account of the quicksands. But I'm right, Cinder. These things are awfully old, and they'll be ours after all." "Very well: we shall see," said Vince. "But I don't feel disposed to stop here now. Let's get back home." "Yes," said Mike, with a sigh, "let's get back home;" and, after setting up a fresh bit of candle, they started for the inner cave, ascended the slope, and made their way along the black passage to the spot where they put out and hid their lanthorn. This done, with the caution taught by the desire to keep their hiding-place secret, Vince stepped softly on to the opening, and was about to pass along to the end, but he paused to peer out through the briars to see if all was right, and the next moment he stood there as if turned to stone. Mike crept up to him and touched his shoulder, feeling sure from his companion's fixed attitude that something must be wrong. The answer to his touch was the extension of Vince's hand, and he pointed upward and toward the side of the deep rift. Mike turned his head softly, and gazed in the indicated direction. For some moments he could see nothing for the briars and ferns; but at last he bent a trifle more forward, and his fists clenched, for there, upon one of the stones beside the entrance to their cave, with his hand shading his eyes, and staring upward apparently at the ridge, was Carnach junior. "Spying after us," said Mike to himself; "and he does not know that we are close to his feet." _ |
||