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Cormorant Crag; A Tale of the Smuggling Days, a novel by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 26. The Pirate Captain Of Their Dreams |
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_ CHAPTER TWENTY SIX. THE PIRATE CAPTAIN OF THEIR DREAMS The walk did Vince good, for the action given to his muscles carried off the sensation which made his fists clench from time to time in his pockets and itch to be delivering blows wherever he could make them light on his companion's person. He did not notice that he was ploughing a rut in the sand by going regularly to and fro, for he was thinking deeply about their position; and as he thought, the dread that the captain's words had inspired, endorsed as they were by Daygo's, began to fade away, till he found himself half contemptuously saying to himself that he should like to catch the skipper at it--it meaning something indefinite that might mean something worse, but in all probability keeping them prisoners till he had got away all his stores of smuggled goods. Then, as the rut in the sand grew deeper from the regular tramp up and down, Vince's thoughts flitted from the trouble felt by his mother, who must be terribly anxious, to his companion, whose back was towards him, and who with elbows on knees had bent down to rest his chin upon his hands. Vince was a little surprised at himself, and rather disposed to think that he was weak; for somehow all the hot blood had gone out of his arms and fists, which were now perfectly cool, and felt no longer any desire to fly about as if charged with pugno-electricity, which required discharging by being brought into contact with Mike's chest or head. "Poor old Ladle!" he found himself thinking: "what a temper he was in! But it was too bad to hit out like that, when what I did was to help him. But there, he didn't know." Vince was pretty close to his fellow-prisoner now; but he had to turn sharply round and walk away. "Glad I didn't hit him again, because if I had we should have had a big fight and I should have knocked him about horribly and beaten him well, and I don't want to. I'm such a stupid when I get fighting: I never feel hurt--only as if I must keep on hitting; and then all those sailor fellows would have been looking on and grinning at us. Glad we didn't fight." Then Vince began to think again of their position, which he told himself was very horrible, but not half so bad as that of the people at both their homes, where, only a mile or two away from where they were, the greatest trouble and agony must reign. "And us all the time with nothing the matter with us, and sitting down as we did and eating such a breakfast! Seems so unfeeling; only I felt half-starved, and when I began I could think of nothing else.--Such nonsense! he's not going to kill us, or he wouldn't have given us anything to eat. Here, I can't go on like this." Vince stopped his walk to and fro at the end of the beaten-out track in the sand, and turned off to stand behind Mike, who must have heard him come, but did not make the slightest movement. Then there was silence, broken by the voice of the French captain giving his orders to his men, who were evidently rearranging the stores ready for removal. "I say, Mike," said Vince at last. No answer. "Michael." Still no movement. "Mr Michael Ladelle." Vince might have been speaking to the tub upon which his fellow-prisoner was seated, for all the movement made. "Michael Ladelle, Esquire, of the Mount," said Vince; and there was a good-humoured look in his eyes, which twinkled merrily; but the other did not stir. "Ladle, then," cried Vince; but without effect,--Mike was still gazing at the sand before him. "I say, don't be such a sulky old Punch. Why don't you speak? I want to talk to you about getting away. Mike--Ladle--I say, you did hurt when you hit out at me. I shall have to pay you that back!" No answer. "Look here: aren't you going to say you're sorry for it and shake hands?" Vince waited for a while and then burst out impatiently,-- "Look here, if you don't speak I'll kick the tub over and let you down." All in vain: Mike did not move, and Vince began to grow impatient. "Here, I say," he cried, "I know I'm a bit of a beast sometimes, but you can't say I'm sulky. I did nothing; and if it was I, you know I'd have owned I was in the wrong and held out my fist--open; not like you did, to knock a fellow down." Another pause, and Vince exclaimed,-- "Well, I _am_--" He did not say what, but stood with extended arm. "I say, Mikey," he said softly, "I know you haven't got any eyes in the back of your head, so I may as well tell you. I'm holding out my hand for a shake, and my arm's beginning to ache." "Don't--don't!" said Mike now, in a low voice, full of the misery the lad felt. "I feel as if you were jumping on me for what I did." "Do you? Well, I'm not going to jump on you. Come, I have got you to speak at last, and there's an end of it. I say, Ladle, it's too stupid for us two to be out now, when we want to talk about how we're stuck here." "I feel as if I can't speak to you," said Mike huskily. "More stupid you. Didn't I tell you it's all over now? You were in a passion, and so was I. Now you're not in a passion, no more am I; so that's all over. You heard what the pirate captain said about us?" "Yes," said Mike dolefully. "Well, he and old Joe--Here, Ladle: I'm going to kick old Joe. I don't care about his being old and grey. A wicked old sneak!--I'll kick him, first chance I get, for leaving us in the lurch; but that isn't what I was going to say. Here, why don't you turn round and sit up? Don't let those beggars think we're afraid of them. I won't be,--see if I am." Mike slowly changed his position, turning round and sitting up. "Now, then, that's better," said Vince. "What was I going to say? Oh! I know. The pirate captain and old Joe wanted to make us believe that we were to be taken out to sea, to walk the plank or be hung or shot or something." "Joe said something about Botany Bay and sending us there." "No, he didn't; he said Bottonny, and there is no such place. He couldn't do it, and he couldn't keep us prisoners here." "He might kill us." "No, he mightn't. Bah! what a silly old Ladle you are! He couldn't. People don't do such things now, only in stories. I tell you what I believe." "What?" said Mike, for Vince paused as if to think. "Well, I believe he feels that his old smuggler's cave is done for now we've found out the way down to it, so he's going to clear it out and start another somewhere else. He means to keep us prisoners till the last keg's on board, and as soon as this is done he'll go to his boat and take his hat off to us and tell us we may have the caverns all to ourselves." "Think so?" said Mike, looking up at his companion for the first time. "Yes, I believe that's it, Ladle; and if it wasn't for knowing how miserable they must be over yonder I should rather like all this--that is, if you're going to play fair and not get hitting out when we ought to be the best of friends." "Don't--don't, Cinder: I can't bear it," groaned Mike, letting his head drop in his hands. "I hurt myself a hundred times more than I hurt you." "Oh, did you! Ha! ha!" cried Vince. "Come, I like that: why, I shall have a bruise as big as the top of my hat! Oh, I say, Ladle, old chap, don't--don't talk like that! It's all right. You thought I was fighting against you. Sit up. Some of the beggars will see." Mike sat up with his face twitching, and kept his back to the upper part of the cavern. "That's better. Well, I say I should really like it if it wasn't for them at home. I call it a really good, jolly adventure, such as you read of in books. Now, what we've got to do is to wait till they're asleep, cut off all their heads with their own cutlasses, seize the boat, row off to the lugger, wait till old Joe comes back, and then spike him with the points of cutlasses till he pilots us out safely. Then we've got to sail home as prize crew of the lugger, which would be ours. Stop! there's something we haven't done." Mike stared. "Old Joe. As soon as we're out of the dangerous passages we've got to batten him down in the hold, and that's the end of the adventure." "How can you go on like that?" said Mike piteously. "Making fun of it all, when we're so miserable." "That's why: just to cheer us up a bit, and set us thinking about what's next to do." "I can't think," said Mike. "It's a pity we didn't stop in the seal hole." "Stop there? We should have felt nice by now. Why, our legs would be all swollen, and we should be so hungry that--Here, I say, Ladle, you wouldn't have been safe. I wonder how you'd taste?" "I say, do be serious, Cinder. It's too horrible to laugh at it." "Well, so it is, old chap, but I am thinking hard all the time, yet I can't see any way out of it. I know we could swim almost like seals; but look at the water out there,--we couldn't do anything in it." "No, we should be sucked down in five minutes." "Yes. The old pirate knows it, too, and that's why he leaves us alone. I say, he does look like a pirate, though, doesn't he? with that pistol, and the rings in his ears." "Oh! I never saw a pirate, only on those pictures we tried to paint. But what about the cliffs?" "No good. They're either straight up and down or overhanging. We couldn't do it." "We might get over the other side and make signals." "Yes; there is something in that. But don't you think we might get away by the passage? The sentry may go to sleep." "No good," said Mike bitterly. "Those fellows daren't." "S'pose not," said Vince thoughtfully. "Old Jarks is the sort of chap to wake 'em up with his pistol. It's of no use yet, Ladle; the idea hasn't come. Yes, it has! Why can't we wait our chance and seize the boat and get it off? We could manage." "Hush!" whispered Mike. The warning was needed, for the captain came from the back of the stack of packages, and marched down towards where they were. _ |
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