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Cormorant Crag; A Tale of the Smuggling Days, a novel by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 38. What The Boys Thought |
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_ CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT. WHAT THE BOYS THOUGHT
"Quick, Mr Johnson!" he cried to the mate, "then back for the rest as smartly as you can. Tell Mr Hudson to make any leakage sound. Carpenter, there: go back with this boat." "Ay, ay, sir." "There's no fear of her sinking, sir," said Vince. "What? How dare--!" "It's all right, sir," cried Vince. "I know. We were prisoners on board the smuggler." "You were what?" "It is right, sare," said Jacques quietly. "I took ze boys avay and kept them as prisonaire." "Absurd!" said the lieutenant haughtily. "Now then: away with that boat. Smart there, my lads!" The boat was rowed rapidly back to fetch the rest of the prisoners, and the lieutenant came forward to where his first batch was ranged, to inspect them previous to sending them below. "You're not going to send us down with them, are you?" said Mike indignantly. "What?" roared the lieutenant in a rage: "why, you insolent, ruffianly young thief of a smuggler!" "No, he isn't," cried Vince fiercely; "he's as much a gentleman as you are." "Indeed!" said the lieutenant sarcastically: "perhaps he's a nobleman, sir?" "I don't mean that," said Vince sharply; "but he's Sir Francis Ladelle's son." "What, of the Crag?" "Yes. We found out the smugglers' cave by accident, and they came and caught us, and have kept us ever since." "Phew!" whistled the officer, quite changing his manner. "Then pray who are you?" "I'm Doctor Burnet's son." "Oh, then of course that alters the case, my lad; but you see you were caught amongst the jackdaws, so you must not wonder that I wanted to wring your neck too." "Oh, it's all right if you believe me," said Vince; "only, after being prisoners so long, it seemed precious hard to be treated as prisoners when we expected to be free to get home." "Then this scoundrel took you both, and has brutally ill-used you ever since?" Vince looked round sharply, found the captain's piercing eyes fixed on his, and hesitated. "Oh no," he said; "he caught us, and wouldn't let us go for fear we should tell where his stores of smuggled goods are, but he has behaved very well to us ever since." "Like a gentleman," put in Mike. "Indeed! Well, then we mustn't be so hard on him. So then, young gentlemen, you two know where the smugglers' depot is?" Vince nodded. "And you could show us the way?" Vince nodded again. "Well, then, you'll have the pleasure of being our guide there as soon as we've taken that confounded schooner." "No, I shall not," said Vince, looking hard at Jacques. "I don't feel as if it would be fair." "But you'll have to, my lad, in the King's name." "Yais, you can promise to show zem every sing, _mon ami_" said Jacques, smiling. "My smuggling days are ovaire, and I have been expecting zis every day zese ten years." "Very well, then," said Vince: "I'll promise to show you by land. I can't by sea, for it's a regular puzzle." "By land, then. Where is it?" "Over yonder, on our island." "What, at the Crag?" cried the lieutenant. "Yes." The officer gave vent to a long, low whistle. "Thank you, my lad," he said; "this is good news indeed! We have been baffled for years, stopped by this hiding-place which no one knew of. Then, when I have taken the schooner I'll land you with a party, and you shall show us the place." "No," said Vince; "I want to be paid for doing it." "Indeed!" said the officer, curling his lip: "how much?" "Oh, I don't mean money. Our fathers and mothers think we're dead, and you must land us to go home at once." "Impossible, my boy," said the lieutenant, clapping him on the shoulder in a friendly way. "Quite right; but English men--and boys--have to think first of their duty to the King. I must chase that schooner first, and--Ahoy, there! look sharp with that boat.--Look: directly I have taken her I'll land you." "No, sir; land us now," cried Mike. "You have only to make that little sailing boat come alongside and order him to take us." "Yes, yes," cried Vince. "He comes from our island." "What, that fishing boat yonder?" said the lieutenant. "Well, that is in my way. Yes, I'll do that. Now then, alongside there! Tumble up, you fellows! Marines, take charge, and see them into the hold." "_Au revoir, mes enfans_," said Jacques--"_au revoir_, if zey do not hang me. Good boys, bose of you, but von vord. Old Daygo he is a rascaille, an old scamp; but he serve me vairy true, and it vas I tempt him vis _monnaie_ to keep my secrete after he show me ze cavern. You vill not tell of him. He is so old, if you send him to ze prisone he soon die." "Oh, very well; we won't tell tales of him--eh, Mike?" "I should like to knock his old head off; but you've been so civil to us, Captain Jacques, we will not." The captain smiled and nodded, and then followed his crew into the hold, where they were shut up with a couple of marines on guard. By this time the cutter was in full sail, in chase of the schooner, which had reached out for a long distance, to get clear of the long reefs of dangerous rocks, running far away from the northern shore of the island. She was evidently, in fact, obliged, as she had taken that course, to tack at last, and then run straight almost back again; but it would lead her along by the north coast and probably mean escape. "Schooner captain doesn't know his way through the Narrows, then," said Vince thoughtfully, as they stood watching the now distant schooner. "I suppose not. Why, he could easily have got round and saved all that." "I say," cried Vince, "never mind about old Jacques: smugglers are blackguards, and ought to be caught." "Yes, of course." "Well, then, let's tell the cutter captain how to get through the narrows and cut the schooner off." "I couldn't. I should send him on the rocks. Could you?" "Oh, I could," said Vince. "Here he comes. You'll hail the boat as soon as you're near enough, sir?" "Eh?--the boat to set you ashore? I'd almost forgotten. Well, I suppose I must. Mr Johnson! Bah, I forgot: he's prize-master aboard the lugger. By the way, you think there's no fear of that craft sinking, my lad?" "I feel sure, sir. The powder all exploded upward." "Good. Here, Mr Roberts, hoist a flag for a pilot: that may bring yon fellow." The little flag was hoisted; old Joe took no heed, however, but went on in his boat, and the lieutenant grew impatient. "Do you think that man understands the signal?" "I'm sure of it, sir, for he's the best pilot we have, and knows every rock." "Then it's obstinacy. By George, I'll sink the scoundrel if he doesn't heave to;" and, giving the order, a shot was sent skipping along just in front of old Daygo's boat, when the sail was lowered directly, hoisted again, and the boat's head turned to run towards the cutter. "Understands that, my lads," said the lieutenant; "but you must jump down quickly--I am losing a deal of time." "Never mind, sir," said Vince; "I've been sailing all about here ever since I was quite a little fellow, and I know the rocks too. The schooner must tack round in half an hour's time, and then run east." "Yes, I know that." "Well, sir, you can run from here right across, and save miles." The officer looked at him keenly. "The passage is called the Narrows, and it's all deep water. You see the big gull rock away yonder--the one with the white top?" "Well!" "Make straight for that, and go within half a cable's length. Then tack, keep the south point right over the windmill for your bearings, and sail due east too. Then you can cut the smuggler off." "Hah! yes; it's down on the chart, but I did not dare to try it. Thank you, my lad; that is grand. Ah! here's the boat." The boys shrank back, so that old Daygo should not see them, while the lieutenant stepped up to the side and bullied the old man, who protested humbly that he did not understand the signal. "Well, quick! Here are two passengers to take ashore. Now, my lads-- sharp!" Vince and Mike shook hands with the officer, while a sailor at the gangway held on to the painter of Daygo's boat, which was gliding pretty fast through the water, the course of the cutter not having been quite stopped; then the lads jumped lightly in, the painter was thrown after them, there was a slight touch of the helm, and the cutter heeled over and dashed away, leaving Vince and Mike looking the old man full in the face, while he stared back with his jaw dropped down almost to his chest. "Then you arn't dead, young gen'lemen?" "No, we're not dead," said Vince sharply. "Now then, hoist that sail and run us home." The boys sat there watching the cutter, the lugger and the schooner all sailing rapidly away. Then suddenly it occurred to both the lads that the old man was very slow over the business of hoisting that sail; that he was then the greatest enemy they had, and that it would be very awkward for them if he were to suddenly take it into his head to do them some mischief. "He's a big, strong man," thought Vince; "he knows that we can ruin him if we like to speak, and--I wonder what Ladle is thinking about?" "Ladle" was thinking the same. _ |
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