Chapter 8. The Smuggler's Cave...

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_ CHAPTER EIGHT. THE SMUGGLER'S CAVE--TAKEN CAPTIVE--A TERRIBLE SITUATION

As soon as Charley was joined by Tom, he commenced a more thorough examination of the vault; but no outlets could they discover, and they began to doubt whether their nocturnal visitors could have got through it into the Tower. Could there be another passage independent altogether of the vault? They went round and round and could find no door or trap, or opening of any sort.

"I doubt if we are right, after all," observed Charley; "we must try and find some other way down--for way there is, of that I am certain."

"We are right; still, though," answered Tom, "that ladder has had other feet on it of late besides ours; and just let me see how the bolt of the trap-door could have been fastened from below if there wasn't some one to do it. It wasn't the ghosteses, I suppose, Mister Charles? and look here--what's this?" he added, as stooping down he picked up another small slipper, the fellow to the one which was known to be Margery's.

The sight of it induced Charley to renew his search, and directly afterwards he discovered in one of the cells a ring, which looked, he thought, as if it was intended to serve as a handle to a stone door. He pulled it with all his strength, and slowly turning on a pair of heavy rusty hinges it opened, and showed a flight of steps cut in the rock, and leading downwards.

"Come along," he whispered to Tom, "we shall soon solve the mystery."

He led, Tom following, and holding the lantern with a torch ready to light at the end of his hook arm, while he held a pistol in his other hand. At first they descended by very steep steps cut in the rock, then the passage was almost on a level and turned and twisted considerably, showing that it had been formed in the first place by nature, and had been simply enlarged by the hand of man.

Charley was, however, thinking all the time far more of little Margery, and how frightened she must have been when carried along it, than of the way in which the passage had been formed. He was expecting also every instant to find himself confronted by a number of fierce smugglers, who would naturally be exasperated at having their long-concealed haunt at length discovered. There could be no longer any doubt as to who represented the ghosts, nor how they had entered the Tower and so speedily disappeared. The passage was somewhat slippery from the moisture which here and there trickled through the rock, and was clearly not often traversed, which it would have been had the vault above been used as a store-house.

It was pretty evident from the words the smugglers had used that their object was to get rid of the inhabitants of the Tower that they might occupy the vaults as a store-house, and have free egress from it for their goods. They had probably hoped, could they have attained their object, to have baffled the revenue officers for years to come. They must have felt that they had been completely defeated, and, either in revenge or in the hopes of making some terms with Captain Askew, had carried off Margery. Still, Charley could not believe, that, savage and lawless as they might be, they would wish to injure the innocent little girl, and was nearly sure that he was on the right track to recover her.

Charley now proceeded very cautiously, for he thought it possible that the passage might lead to the edge of a precipice to be descended only by a ladder, and an incautious step in advance might send him tumbling headlong down; and he had the sense to know that people even when engaged in the best of enterprises must guard against accidents and failure, and that they have no right to expect success unless they do their best to secure it. Tom wanted to lead, but Charley would not let him.

"No," he answered, "make fast the rope you've got round my waist, then if I slip you'll haul me up."

Tom did so, and they once more advanced. They had gone some way further when Charley again stopped and listened. He heard a low, murmuring sound--it was that of human voices. He and Tom crept on more cautiously than ever. A gleam of light shone on them as if through a crevice. There was evidently either a door or a curtain hung across the passage. This would enable them perhaps to see what was going on within, before entering. Shading their lantern and making as little noise as possible, they got close up to what seemed to be a door or a number of planks nailed together, and placed so as to lean against the entrance. Charley was afraid that while searching for a hole to look through he might knock it over.

At length he found a chink through which he could look into what appeared to be a cavern of some size, but the hole allowed him the command only of a very limited range of vision. In front of him were two men seated on casks at a rough table, made apparently of pieces of wreck. There was a lantern on the table, and they had account-books and some piles of money, with a bottle or two and some tin mugs. From the way in which they were occupied, Charley supposed that they were principal men among the smugglers, settling their accounts. They were both strangers to him. He was afraid to ask Tom whether he knew them, for fear of his voice being heard. The plan he at once formed was to rush out on them, seize and bind them, and hold them as hostages till Margery should be given up; for it did not occur to him that a young lad like himself and a one-armed man were scarcely likely to overpower two stout, hardy ruffians like those before him. He drew Tom back a little distance where it was safe to speak, and asked him if he would make the attempt. The old sailor was ready for anything. It would certainly be a grand matter to capture the leaders of the gang. He only wished that the captain was there to lead them, then there would be no doubt about it.

Charley's chief anxiety was with respect to Margery. If she was in the cavern, and any of their pistols were discharged, she might be hurt. As regarded the risk he and Tom ran, he did not reflect a moment. The outlaws were to be captured, and he had undertaken the task of seizing them if he could.

"Now, Tom, are you all ready?" he asked; "I will take the man on the right side, you the man on the left--knock them over and hold our pistols to their heads, while we march them up the passage into the Tower."

"Yes, I'm ready, Mr Charles," answered Tom. "But leave the gun where we are, it will be only in our way, and I'll stick to my cutlass. We must be sharp about it, though, for they don't look like fellows who'd stand child's-play; and yet I've known in the war time, two staunch fellows take a ship out of the hands of a prize crew of ten men: and so I don't see why we shouldn't be able to clap into bilboes two big ragamuffins like those there. Come on!"

The hearts of the bravest must beat quick when they are about to engage in a desperate struggle with their fellow men. Charley Blount felt his beat a great deal quicker than usual when he and old Tom were about to rush on the two smugglers in the cavern, and, as they hoped, overpower them. They got close up to the door, and pressing with all their might against the upper part, sent it flat down before them on the floor of the cavern, and rushing over it threw themselves instantly on the smugglers, who, astonished at the sudden noise, had not time to rise from their seats when they felt their throats seized, and saw the muzzles of a brace of pistols presented at their heads.

Nothing could have been better done, and the two smugglers would have been made prisoners, but at the same moment a dozen stout fellows, who had been sleeping round the cavern, and had sprang to their feet at the noise of the falling door, came round them; the muzzles of the pistols were knocked up, Tom's going off and the bullet flattening against the roof of the cavern, and they found their arms pinioned, and instead of capturing others were themselves made captives. Charley felt bitterly disappointed and crestfallen, but not for a moment forgetting the object of his expedition, he looked round the cavern for Margery. She was not to be seen. "Where have you carried the little girl to?" he asked; "we came to fetch her. You had no business to carry her off. Take her back to her father and mother, and you may do what you like with us."

"You are von brave young rogue, _mon jolie garcon_!" exclaimed the man (the captain of a French lugger), whom Charley had seized. "You have no fear, it seems, for ghosts nor for men; but you give me von terrible gripe of my neck. Ah, not you tink we do wid you?"

"I don't know, and don't care," answered Charley, recklessly; "only give me back Miss Margery--that's what I want."

"Ah! is it? She long way from dis, _mon garcon_," said the captain, in a mocking tone; "Vould you like go see her?"

"Yes, I would," answered Charley; "and let me tell you that if a hair of her head has been injured, you will all have to pay dearly for it."

"Vary well, vary well," said the Frenchman, still mocking at Charley; "Ve vill take you wid us, eh?"

"Come, enough of this, mounseer," growled out the other man, who was only then recovering from the effects of the iron grip Tom had taken of his throat. "If we don't look out, mates, we shall have a whole gang of the coastguard down on us while we stay chattering here. Just settle what's to be done with the old man and the lad, and then the sooner we are away from here the better."

"Give us up the little girl, and neither coastguard nor police shall molest you if we can help it," exclaimed Charley.

"Then no one is following you?" asked the man.

"No," answered Charley, without thinking of the consequences of his reply.

"Then come with me, lads, and we'll stop up the entrance to our burrow in a way which will give plenty of work to any one to find it!" exclaimed the man; "but we'll put irons first on the claws of this young fighting-cock and his companion."

The smugglers were deaf to all Charley's expostulations, and he and Tom speedily found their hands in heavy manacles, which would effectually prevent them from making their escape. Tom did not at first deign even to speak, but now lifting up his manacled hands he exclaimed, "Thank ye, mates, for these pretty gloves; we had intended to put your hands into some like them before the night is over, and just let me advise you, or you'll be caught as it is."

Charles and Tom were left standing by themselves to indulge in meditation, while one-half of the smugglers hurried off to stop the entrance to the passage, and the other half packed up the goods which lay about the cavern, ready to carry them off.

Charley's meditations were not altogether pleasant, but though grievously disappointed at the failure of his expedition, he kept up his spirits with the hope that something might still turn up to enable him either to see Margery, or to learn where she was. He was, however, greatly concerned with the thought of the additional anxiety Captain and Mrs Askew would feel when he and Tom did not return. "Of course the vault will be explored, and if the smugglers stop up the passage as they intend the entrance to it will not be found, and no one will be able to guess what has become of us."

The smugglers were not long about the work, and as soon as they returned they blindfolded Charley's and Tom's eyes, the Captain observing that though they had found their way into the cavern, they should not be able to boast that they knew their way out again. Most of the men were strangers, and by their appearance French; but Charley thought that he recognised the countenances of a few, though as there was but a dim light in the cavern, and they kept out of his way, he could not be certain. As they led him along he heard them muttering in angry tones, and, as he thought, consulting what they should do with him and Tom.

"He knows too much already," said one.

"Dead men tell no tales," growled another.

"A slip over the cliff--nothing could be proved against us," muttered a third.

Similar pleasant remarks continued to be made while he was led up and down passages, and, he was convinced, more than once turned completely round, till at last a rope was fastened round his waist, and he felt himself lowered down what he concluded was the side of a cliff, for the wind blew strongly against him. He was then led along the bench to the westward; this he knew by hearing the surf beating on his left hand, and feeling the wind on his left cheek. He heard the footsteps of several people, but he could not ascertain whether Tom was of the party, and he began to be afraid that they were separated from each other. The way was very rough, and he had great difficulty in keeping his feet. The wind too was getting up, and he heard the men grumbling at having to lead him along, and at being unable to embark; from which he concluded that their original intention had been to send him and Tom off to the coast of France with the French captain.

After going a considerable distance, the wind still increasing, he found that they turned inland up a steep ravine. He was now in a part of the country with which he was unacquainted, he supposed, but still he endeavoured to remember each turn he took, that if necessary he might be able to retrace his steps. More than once, as he went along, he thought that he heard Tom's voice, and he was about to shout to him, but the muzzle of a pistol pressed against his cheek, and a hint from a gruff voice, that if he hallooed his brains would be blown out, warned him that it would be wiser to hold his tongue.

Poor Charley had never taken so unpleasant a walk in his life; he had attacked the smugglers first certainly, and--though he did not know it, as he had no warrant--in an illegal manner, and they could if they had chosen have brought an action against him and Tom for an assault and battery; but, on the other hand, as they were themselves engaged in illegal transactions, this they could not venture to do, as it would have brought their own misdeeds to light.

On the party went, now turning rapidly to the right, now to the left, till Charley felt convinced that they were attempting to mislead him. At last, strong as he was, he was almost ready to drop with fatigue. The men who held him were frequently changed, as if they too were knocked up with their work. Suddenly they stopped, declaring they could go no further, and that there could not be a more convenient place for getting rid of their prisoners.

"Heave them over the cliff!" said one, in a low, savage tone. "The water is deep, and they will be soon washed out to sea."

"Not so certain of that," said another; "better make some stones fast to their feet to sink them."

"Just to prove that they came to their end by foul means!" observed a third with a sneer. "No, no, heave 'em over here, they'll never speak again after they reach the bottom, and no one will be able to tell but what they fell over of themselves."

This agreeable discussion afforded Charley the first intimation that old Tom was near him, and directly afterwards he heard his voice saying, "Do what you like with me, mates, but let that young lad go free. How would you like to have one of your own boys or young brothers treated as you threaten to treat him? There's life and work and happiness in him, and you'd just knock it all to pieces for the sake of a paltry revenge. What good can killing the boy do to any of you? Why, I'll tell you-- murder will out, and you'll all be hanged, every one of you."

"Hold your jaw!" exclaimed one of the smugglers; "we've made up our minds, and you'll both go the same way."

Neither Charley nor Tom were of a disposition to beg for their lives; besides, they believed that if the ruffians had determined to kill them, no entreaties would make them alter their minds. Charley, not to lose precious time, tried to prepare himself for death; he thought of the sins he had committed, and endeavoured to repent of them; he forgave all his enemies, even those who were about to kill him, and then, claiming no merit for anything he had ever done, he cast himself at the feet of One he knew to be full of love, and mighty to save. Such is the way a true Christian and a brave man would prepare himself for that great change which must come on all of us.

"Are you going to say your prayers, young man, before we heave you off?" asked a smuggler, in a gruff voice.

"I have said them, thank you," answered Charley, calmly. "Tom, have you said yours? Have you made your peace with Heaven in the only way it can be made?"

"Yes, Mr Charles, I've done that for many a day. When I first came to live on shore with the captain, 'Tom,' says he, 'we must all die, and as we know not the day we should always be ready,' so he showed me the way to be ready, and I've kept ready ever since."

"Now, friends," said Tom, addressing the smugglers, "what do you intend to do? I've again to tell you that you'll gain nothing by committing a cruel murder, and you'll repent of it as long as you live, and longer, far longer."

"Stop his canting mouth, and over the cliff with him! let him preach to the lobsters and crabs if he's a mind!" exclaimed one of the smugglers, and others joined in the vindictive cry.

Charley and Tom on this found themselves dragged along by the shoulders till their feet were over the cliff.

"Now, over with them, let them drop!" cried one of the men.

"No, no," exclaimed another, "let them grip on to the edge with their hands. They'll have time to think about that where they're going, and pleasant thoughts to them!"

This last sally of wit produced a roar of laughter from the savage smugglers who, passing their lives in systematically outraging the laws of their country, seemed no longer to be moved by any of the better feelings of our nature. Still Charley and Tom felt grateful for the few moments of existence allowed them, and clutched the edge of the cliff with all the energy of despair. No sooner had they been lowered into their perilous position than they heard the smugglers, with heartless indifference to the agony they were suffering, moving off, some actually laughing, as if enjoying their misery, though none of them apparently were so utterly inhuman as to wait to see them dashed to pieces by their fall.

Charley, light and strong, felt that he could hold on for some time, but at the same time was afraid of struggling and endeavouring to get up on the cliff lest he should lose his gripe altogether. Tom had stuck his hook into the earth, but he in the same way knew that in attempting to climb up on to the top of the cliff, he might slip, and fall to the bottom. Their hope was that somebody might come by and help them, but that was very unlikely.

"Hold on, Mr Charles, hold on, my lad!" cried Tom. "If I could but just get the point of a rock to put my knee on, I would soon be on the firm ground and have you safe in a moment."

"I'm doing my best to hold on," answered Charles, "but the edge is terribly crumbling; I would make the attempt to get up, but I am nearly certain that I should fail."

"Then don't try, Mr Charles," said Tom, "I'll shout, and may be one of the coastguard men or somebody else will hear us. Help, ahoy! help! help ahoy!" he shouted in a voice which age had not weakened, and which might have been heard nearly half a mile off, had any one been near enough.

Charley then joined him in shouting, but no answer came, and Charley felt as a person does in a dreadful dream, every instant growing weaker and weaker.

"Tom, I don't think that I can hold on many seconds longer," he at last said; "good-bye--I must let go--the earth is crumbling away--I am going--oh?"

At that instant Tom, feeling that Charley's safety depended on his being able to get on the ground above, made a desperate effort--his hook became loosened, in vain he tried to dig his fingers into the earth, and at the same moment that Charley gave his last despairing cry and lost his hold he lost his; down he came, but not as he expected, on the hard rock a hundred feet below him, but into a shallow pool not five feet from where he had been so long hanging.

"Why, where am I?" exclaimed Charley, who, at the same time, had lodged safely on a green mound close to the pool, and tearing off the handkerchief from his eyes he looked about him; "after all, those smugglers are not so bad as we thought them."

"We are at the bottom of a chalk-pit, Mr Charles," answered Tom, "the fellows have played us a somewhat scurvy trick, but I cannot but say that it was better than sending us over the cliff and breaking our necks; howsomdever, the sooner we get out of it the better as I'm wet to the skin, and would like to take a brisk walk homeward to get dry."

A bright moon was shining, though obscured occasionally by the fast driving clouds which came up from the south-west, and by its light they had no difficulty in clambering out of the pit. They were on the top of some downs, at some distance from the edge of the cliff. However, they could see the now foam-covered sea, and distinguish vessels far off running up the Channel before the gale, and thus could take a tolerably direct road homeward, though neither of them had before been thus far from the Tower. They hurried on, being certain that the smugglers could not leave the coast, and hoping that even if one could be captured he would give information where Margery was to be found.

"Margery! poor dear little Margery, she to be all this time in the power of these ruffians!" Charley kept saying to himself as he and Tom hurried on. _

Read next: Chapter 9. A Friend In Need...

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