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Cormorant Crag; A Tale of the Smuggling Days, a novel by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 29. Longings For Liberty |
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_ CHAPTER TWENTY NINE. LONGINGS FOR LIBERTY It was easier to ask that question than to answer it, and they cast a brief glance round the bare, cupboard-like place, with its two shelves, which represented the prisoners' beds, each bearing a small horsehair mattress and a French cotton blanket. "Put out the light," was all the answer Vince received; and, after holding it to the side of the place for a moment or two, he opened the lanthorn door and blew the candle out. "No good to keep that in. Only makes the place hot and stuffy. I'm going to open that light." The "light" was a sort of wooden shutter, which took the place of an ordinary cabin window, and as soon as he had drawn it wide open the soft night air entered in a delicious puff. "Hah! that's better," sighed Vince. "Come here and breathe, Ladle, old chap. It's of no use to smother ourselves if we are miserable. I say, isn't it a beautiful night?" "Who's going to think anything beautiful when one's like this? It's horrible!" "Pst!" whispered Vince, for the voice of the captain was plainly heard overhead, and the deep growl of old Daygo in answer, the way in which the tones grew more subdued suggesting that the speakers had gone right forward. "I should like to pitch that old villain overboard," said Mike, in a fierce whisper. "Well, if you'd let me tie a rope round him first I'd help you, Ladle; but I shouldn't like him to drown till he'd had time to get a little better." "Better?" said Mike: "he'll never grow any better." "Well, never mind him," said Vince. "Now then, let's look the state of affairs in the face. You won't tell us what to do, so I must see what I can think of." "Have you thought of anything?" cried Mike eagerly. "If you shout like that, it won't be much good if I have," said Vince, in an angry whisper. "I'm very sorry, Vince," said Mike humbly. "I'll be more careful." "We shan't get away if you're not." "Get away? Then you see a chance?" cried Mike eagerly. "Just the tiniest spark of one if you're ready to try." "I'll try anything," whispered Mike. "Wouldn't mind going into the seal hole again?" "Vince, old chap, I'd do anything," said Mike, seizing his fellow-prisoner's arm and holding him tightly. "What shall we do?" "I'm afraid it's going to be very risky, for we don't know anything about the rocks and currents, and we may be upset. Now do you see?" "I see: you mean escaping in a boat," said Mike eagerly; "but how?--what boat?" "Don't take much thinking to know that," replied Vince; "the only thing that puzzles me is how they could be so stupid as to leave a boat there swinging to a painter." "Old Joe's boat!" cried Mike joyously; and Vince clapped a hand over his mouth in anger, for just then they heard the voices of the captain and old Daygo as they walked forward again; and as far as the prisoners could make out, the two men were walking up one side of the deck and down the other, talking earnestly, but what was said the boys could not catch. "Yes, old Joe's boat," said Vince in a subdued voice; "but if you're going to shout we may as well go to bed and have a night's rest." "I really will mind, Cinder--I will indeed," whispered Mike. "I couldn't help that, old chap. But tell me, how are you going to manage it?" "There's only one way," replied Vince, with his lips close to his fellow-prisoner's ear; "climb out of the window, and then over the bulwark to get down inside it where it's dark; then creep along till we can feel the painter." "Then creep over the bulwark and drop down one after the other." "Cut the painter," said Vince. "And then we're free." There was a pause, during which Mike got tight hold of Vince's hand, and the latter felt that it was cold and wet from the boy's excitement. "I don't know so much about being free," whispered Vince. "We should be away from this wretched old lugger; but where should we be going then? Didn't I warn you about the rocks and currents?" "Yes; but we should have old Joe's boat, and we can manage that easily enough." "Yes, if we're in the open sea, even if she's sinking, Ladle; but shut-in here among the rocks I don't know how we should get along. But anything's better than sitting down and not having a try." "Yes, anything," said Mike, in a low, excited whisper. "Yes, anything. We must try for the sake of those at home. I know my father is sure to say to me, 'Didn't you try to escape?'" "So will mine," said Mike. "Oh yes, we must have a good try. Think we can climb up?" "I'm just going to try," said Vince, kneeling down to take off his boots. "If you like to try you can. If not, you've got to go down on all fours under the window, so that I can step on your back and climb out." Mike was silent for a few moments, and then he said softly,-- "I'll do which you like, Cinder." "Then I think I'll try first. If I can't manage it you can." "But stop a moment: suppose there's any one on deck?" "It will be very dark." "But there'll be lanthorns burning and a watch kept." "I feel sure there'll be no lights, because they might be seen from the cliffs; and as they know they're so safe here, I don't believe there'll be any watch kept." "I wish I'd got a head like yours, Cinder." "Do you? Well, we can't change. That's it. My! how tight my boots were! It's getting them wet and letting them dry on one's feet.--Pst! Slip into your berth." Their needs and experience were beginning to make them obey a sharp order without question; and as Vince lowered down the shutter Mike crawled into the lower bunk silently enough, while, almost without a sound, Vince crept into the one above, stretched himself upon his back, and placed his hands together under his head. The reason for this sudden action was that he had seen a gleam of light play for a moment beneath the rough door; and they were hardly in their places when there was the sound of descending steps on the ladder, the shape of the door marked out plainly by the light all round. Then came the rattling of a key in the padlock, which was drawn out of the staple, the door was flung open, and the hutch of a place was filled with the dull, soft light of a lanthorn, as a man stepped in. It was hard work to lie there with the lanthorn held close up to them, but the boys both stood the ordeal. Mike was lying with his face close to the bulkhead, and of course with his back to their visitor and his features in the shade; but Vince's was the harder task, for he had assumed his attitude as being the most sleep-like, and to give better effect to his piece of acting, he had opened his mouth, and went on breathing rather heavily, while the fact of his having his boots off, and one foot sticking out over the bunk side, helped materially over the bit of deception. "I wonder who it is," thought Vince; and, as if in answer, a familiar voice said, in a low tone,-- "Aha! _Vous etes_ not too much frighten to go fast asleep?" Vince did not need to open his eyes, for he could see mentally vividly enough the swarthy, brown, deeply-lined face, with the keen dark eyes, and the crafty look about the mouth, drawn into an unpleasant smile, while the big earrings seemed to glisten in the soft light. "You are fast asleep--_hein_?" said the man, rather sharply; but no one stirred, though Vince could feel the perspiration standing in a fine dew upon his forehead and by the sides of his nose. "I came to see if you are good boys, and sall put out your light quite safe; for all ze powder is down underneas you, and you muss not blow yourselfs up and spoil my sheep. You hear, big, stupede boy?" Vince gave vent to a low, gurgling sound, and made up his mind to babble a few words about the caverns; but his throat was dry, and his tongue refused to act. Perhaps it was as well, for in doing so he might have overdone his part, which was perfect. Then the light was withdrawn, the captain went out, and the door was carefully fastened, the light fading from round the door while something shook loudly as he ascended the ladder and dropped the trap down with a snap, which was followed by the crash of iron, as if another loop were passed on a staple. "Hasn't dropped any sparks, has he, Vince?" whispered Mike, turning softly in his bunk. "Can't see any," was the reply. "Oh, I say, Ladle, and I blew out our candle and saw them fly!" "But do you think it's true? Is the powder here, or did he only say it to frighten us?" "I don't know," whispered Vince. "There must be a powder magazine, for he has cannon on deck. But I didn't see any trap door: did you?" "Yes--just as you put out the light. You knelt on it when you took off your boots." "Oh dear!" sighed Vince. "I'm all dripping wet. Isn't this place horribly hot?" "Hot? I feel as if my things were all soaked." "Don't talk. We must lie still now, and wait. I don't think he'll come again." "I do," said Mike. "He'll never be such a noodle as to believe we two will stop here without trying to escape." "I don't know," sighed Vince. "I'm afraid we're quite safe?" "What, to escape?" "No--to stop in prison; for I expect we shan't be able to get on deck." "But we're going to try?" "Yes," said Vince through his closely set teeth; "we're going to try." _ |
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