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In the King's Name: The Cruise of the "Kestrel", a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 38. Off His Guard |
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_ CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT. OFF HIS GUARD The carpenter's four weeks extended to five, then to six, and seven had glided away before the cutter was pretty well ready for sea. Urgent orders had been given that her repairs were to be hastened, and the crew was kept in readiness to proceed to sea at once, but still the dockyard artificers clung to their job in the most affectionate manner. There was always a bit more caulking to do, a little more paint to put on, new ropes to reeve; and when at last she seemed quite ready, an overlooker declared that she would not be fit to go to sea until there had been a thorough examination of the keel. It was during these last few days that Hilary found a chance of going ashore, and gladly availed himself of his liberty, having a good run round Portsmouth, a look at the fortifications; and finally, the weather being crisp, sunshiny, and the ground hard with frost, he determined to have a sharp walk inland for a change. "I declare," he cried, as he had a good run in the brisk wintry air, "it does one good after being prisoned in that bit of a cutter." He had been so much on board of late that he experienced a hearty pleasure in being out and away from the town in the free country air. The frost was keen, and it seemed to make his blood tingle in his veins. He set off running again and again, just pausing to take breath, and it was only when he was some miles away from the port and the evening was closing in that he began to think it was time to turn back. As he did so he saw that three sailors who had been for some time past going the same way were still a short distance off, and as he passed them it seemed to him that they had been indulging themselves, as sailors will when ashore for a holiday. "What cheer, messmate!" said one of them in his bluff, frank way. "Is this the way to London?" "No, my lad; you're on the wrong road. You must go back three miles or so, and then turn off to the right." "I told you so, Joe," the man exclaimed in an injured tone. "What's the good o' trusting to a chap like you? Here, come along and let's get back." "I sha'n't go back," said the one addressed; "shall you, Jemmy?" "Not I," said the other. "Can't us get to London this way, captain?" "Yes," said Hilary laughing; "if you go straight on, but you'll have to go all round the world first." "There!" cried the one addressed as Jemmy; "I told you so, matey. Come along." "Don't be a fool," said the first sailor. "Lay holt of his arm, Joe, and let's get him back; it'll be dark afore long." Hilary could not help feeling amused at the men; but as he trudged on back towards Portsmouth he saw that they were trying to make up for lost ground, and were following him pretty quickly. Once they made such good use of their legs that they got before him; then Hilary walked a little faster and passed them, and so on during the next two miles they passed and repassed each other, the sailors saying a cheery word or two and laughing as they went by. But soon this was at an end; they seemed to grow tired, and during the next mile it had grown dark, and the sailors walked on one side of the road, Hilary on the other. At last the sailors seemed to have made up their minds to get right away from him, walking on rapidly, till all at once Hilary heard voices talking loudly, and as he came nearer he could distinguish what was said. "Come on. Come, Jem, get up." "I want a glass," growled another voice. "Never mind. Wait till we get on the London road," cried the man who had been addressed as Joe. "I want a glass," growled the man again; and as Hilary came close up he saw that one of the men was seated in the path just in front of a roadside cottage, and that his two companions were kicking and shaking him to make him rise. "I say, your honour," said one of the men, crossing to Hilary, "you're an officer, ar'n't you?" "Yes, my man." "Just come and order him to get up, quarterdeck fashion, sir, and I'd be obleeged to you. He won't mind us; but if you, an officer, comes and orders him up, he'll mind what you say. We want to get to the next town to-night." Hilary hesitated for a moment, feeling loath to trouble himself about the stupid, drunken sailor, but his good nature prevailed and he crossed the road. "Here, my lad," he said sharply, "get up directly." "Going to turn in!" said the fellow sleepily. "No, no. Nonsense," cried Hilary, giving him a touch with his foot. "Get up and walk on." "Sha'n't," said the man. "Going to sleep, I tell you." "Lookye here, Jemmy," said the sailor who had first spoken, "you'll get your back scratched, you will, if you don't get up when you're told. This here's a officer." "Not he," grumbled the man sleepily. "He ar'n't no officer, I know. Going to sleep, I tell you." "Get up, sir," cried Hilary sharply. "I am an officer." "Bah! get out. Only officer of a merchant ship. You ar'n't no reg'lar officer." "If you don't get up directly, you dog, I'll have the marines sent after you," cried Hilary. The man sat up and stared. "I say," he said, "you ar'n't king's officer, are you?" "Yes, sir, I am." "What ship?" "The _Kestrel_." "Oh, that's it, is it?" he grumbled. "Beg your honour's pardon. I'll get up. Give's your hand." Half-laughing and at the same time proud of the power his rank gave him, Hilary held out his hands to the man, who took them tightly and was in the act of drawing himself up, when the young officer felt himself seized from behind and held, as it were, in a vice. Just at the same moment the door of the cottage was opened, there was a bright light shone out, and before he could realise his position he was forced into the place, and awoke to the fact, as the door was banged to, that he had fallen into a trap. "You scoundrels!" he cried furiously; "do you want to rob me?" And he saw that he was in the presence of half a dozen more men. "Silence, sir!" cried an authoritative voice. "Stand back, my lads. It was very cleverly done." "Cleverly done!" cried Hilary. "What do you mean, sir? I desire you let me go. Are you aware that I am a king's officer?" "Yes, I heard you announce it, and you are the man we have been looking after for days," said the one who seemed to be in authority; and by the light of a bright wood fire Hilary could make out that he was a tall, dark man in a long boat-cloak, which he had thrown back from his breast. "Then I advise you to set me free directly," said Hilary. "Yes, we shall do that when we have done," said the leader, from whom all the others stood away in respect; and as the light burned up the speaker took off his cocked hat, and Hilary saw that he was a singularly handsome man of about forty. "When you have done!" cried Hilary. "What do you mean?" "Be silent and answer my questions, my good lad," said the other. "You are the young officer of the _Kestrel_, and your name is Hilary Leigh, I believe?" "Yes, that is my name," cried Hilary sharply. "By what right do you have me seized?" "The right of might," said the man. "Now look here, sir. Your vessel is now seaworthy, and to-morrow you will get your sailing orders." "How do you know?" cried Hilary. "Never mind how I know. I tell you the fact, my good lad. You will be despatched to watch the port of Dunquerque, to stop the boat that is supposed to come to land from this coast on the king's business." "I suppose you mean the Pretender's business," cried Hilary quickly. "I mean His Majesty Charles Edward," said the man, "to whom I wish you to take these papers." And he pulled a packet from his pocket. "I? Take papers? What do you suppose I am?" "One who will obey my orders," said the man haughtily, "and who will never be able to play fast and loose with his employers; for if he were false, no matter where he hid himself, he would be punished." "And suppose I refuse to take your papers and become a traitor?" said Hilary. "I shall make you," said the stranger. "I tell you that the voyage of your cutter suits our convenience, and that you will have to take these papers, for which service you will be amply rewarded." "Then I do refuse," said Hilary firmly. "No; don't refuse yet," said the stranger with a peculiar look in his countenance. "The despatches must be taken. Think of the proposal, my good lad, and then reply." As he spoke Hilary saw him take a pistol from his breast-pocket, and, if physiognomy was any index of the mind, Hilary saw plainly enough that if he refused to obey this man's orders he would have no compunction in shooting him like a dog. _ |
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