Home
Fictions/Novels
Short Stories
Poems
Essays
Plays
Nonfictions
 
Authors
All Titles
 






In Association with Amazon.com

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 20. Fresh Pulls From The Magnet

< Previous
Table of content
Next >
________________________________________________
_ CHAPTER TWENTY. FRESH PULLS FROM THE MAGNET

A week elapsed; the weather had been stormy, and a western gale had brought the sea into a furious state, making the waves deluge the huge western cliffs, and sending the churned-up foam flying over the edge and inland like dingy balls of snow.

And the boys were kept in by the gale?

Is it likely? The more fiercely the wind blew, the more heavily the huge Atlantic waves thundered against the cliffs and sent the spray flying up in showers, the more they were out on the cliffs searching the dimly seen horizon, watching to see if any ship was in danger.

But it was rare for a ship to be seen anywhere near Cormorant Crag when a sou'-wester blew. Its rocks and fierce currents were too well known to the hardy mariner, who shook his head and fought his way outward into deep water if he could not reach a port, sooner than be anywhere near that dangerous rock-strewn shore.

Vince and Mike had long known that when the wind was at its highest, and it was hard work to stand against it, there was little danger in being near the edge of some perpendicular precipice, and that there, with the rock-face fully exposed to the gale, and the huge waves rushing in to leap against the towering masses with a noise like thunder, they could sit down in comparative shelter, and gaze with feelings akin to awe at the tumult below.

Why? For the simple reason that, after striking against a high, flat surface, the swift current of air must go somewhere. It cannot turn back and meet the winds following it, neither can it dive into the sea. It can only go upward, and sweeps several feet beyond the edge of the cliff before it curves over and continues its furious journey over the land, leaving at the brink a spot that is undisturbed.

These places were favoured always by the boys, who would generally be the only living creatures visible, the birds having at the first breaking out of the storm hastened to shelter themselves on the other side of the island.

"Sea's pretty busy cave-making to-day," said Vince, on one of these stormy mornings. "I wonder what it's like in the cave in front of our place."

"All smooth, of course," said Mike. "It's on the other side, and it's shut-in, so I daresay it doesn't make a bit of difference there. I say, oughtn't we to go there again?"

"You want to open some of those packages," said Vince, as he reached his head a little way over the side of the cliff to gaze down at an enormous roller that came plunging through the outlying rocks a couple of hundred feet below. "Well, what of that?"

"Phew! My!" cried Vince, drawing back breathlessly and wiping the blinding spray from his face. "You can't do that, Ladle. I believe you might try to jump down there and find you couldn't. The wind would pitch you up again and throw you over into the fields."

"Shouldn't like to try it," said Mike drily. "But I say, why shouldn't I want to open the bales and kegs and see what's in them?"

"Because they belong to somebody else, as I told you before."

"If they belong to anybody at all they belong to my father, and he wouldn't mind my opening them."

"Don't know so much about that," said Vince stolidly. "I'll ask him."

"No, no; don't do that," cried Mike, in alarm; "you'll spoil all the fun."

"Very well, then: you ask him what he thinks, then we should know."

"There's plenty of time for that. I never did see such a fellow as you are, Cinder. What's the matter with you?"

"Wet," said Vince. "It was just as if some one with an enormous bucket had dashed water into my face."

"Then you shouldn't have looked over. You might have known how it would be. But look here: never mind the sea."

"But I do mind it. Hear that? Oh, what a tremendous thud that wave came with!"

"Well, of course it did."

"Wonder how many years it will be before the sea washes the Crag all away."

"What nonsense!"

"It isn't. I was talking to Mr Deane about it the other day, and he says it is only a question of time."

"What, before the Crag's washed away? I should think it would be. I'll tell you the proper answer to that--Never."

"Oh, indeed," said Vince: "then how about the caves in under here? Haven't they all been hollowed out, and aren't they always getting bigger? That's how those on the other side must have been made. I shouldn't wonder if they are full of water now."

"What, with all those things in!" said Mike, in alarm. "Oh, I don't believe that. When shall we go and see?"

"It would be horrible to go across the common on a day like this, and we should be soaked getting through the ferns and brambles."

"Yes; it wouldn't be nice now. But will you come first fine afternoon?"

"Well, I don't know."

"Oh, I say," cried Mike reproachfully--"you are getting to be a fellow! You thought the caves grand at first."

"So I did, when we could go there and fish, and cook our tea, and eat it, and enjoy ourselves like Robinson Crusoe; but when it comes to finding the other cave and all that stuff there, it makes one uncomfortable like, and I don't care so much about going."

"Why?"

"I don't know. I can't explain it, but it seems queer, and as if we ought to tell my father or yours. I felt like you do at first, and it seemed as if we'd found a treasure and were going to be very rich."

"So we have, and so we are," said Mike. "I don't see why you should turn cowardly about it."

"I didn't know that it was cowardly to want to be honest," said Vince quietly.

"Only hark at him!" cried Mike, as the waves came thundering in, and the wind roared over them. "You are the most obstinate chap that ever was. Why won't you see things in the right light? Don't those things belong to my father?"

"I don't know."

"Yes, you do. If they were brought and hidden there a hundred years ago, and everybody who brought 'em is dead, as they're on father's land, mustn't they be his?"

"Or the king's."

"The king don't want them, I know. By rights they're my father's, but he won't mind our doing what we like with them, as we were the finders. Now then, don't be snobby; will you come first fine afternoon?"

Vince was silent.

"I won't ask you to meddle with anything--only to keep it all quiet."

Vince picked up a stone and threw it from him, so that it should fall down into the raging billows below, but he made no reply.

"I say, why don't you speak?" cried Mike.

"Who's to talk here in this noise, with the wind blowing your words away?"

"You could just as easily have said you would come as have said that," shouted Mike.

"All right, then, I'll come," said Vince; and Mike gave him a hearty slap on the back. "But look here, Mikey," he continued, "don't you ever think about it?"

"About what?"

"The caves, and all that."

"Of course I do: I hardly think of anything else."

"Yes; but I mean about that young Carnach watching us and old Joe hanging about after us."

"Thought it rather queer once or twice, but of course it was only because we were so suspicious. If we hadn't had the cave and been afraid of any one knowing our secret, we might have met them a hundred times and never thought they were watching us."

"Yes, we might," said Vince thoughtfully. "I don't know, though: they certainly did watch us."

"Then, if they did, it was because we looked as if we wanted to hide something."

"Yes, that sounds right," said Vince. "I never looked at it in that way, and it has bothered me a good deal. Why, of course that is it! I'm all right now, and I'll go with you whenever you like; only we ought to tell them soon. We have known it all to ourselves for some time now."

"Very well, then, we'll tell them soon; and I know my father will say that all the treasure there is to be divided between us two."

"Will he?" said Vince, laughing, for he was far from taking so sanguine a view of the case as his companion; and the matter dropped. They stopped watching the roll and impact of the waves till they were tired, and then went home to wait for the fair weather, which was to usher in their next visit to the caves. _

Read next: Chapter 21. The Mystery Unrolls

Read previous: Chapter 19. Having It Out With The Enemy

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