Jack Hardy: A Story of English Smugglers in the Days of Napoleon
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*CHAPTER VII*
*THE BEST-LAID SCHEMES*
There was a good deal of grumbling among the men as they trudged back toWynport. No man likes to be made a fool of, and a Jack Tar as little asany.
"This is what comes of doing landlubbers' work instead of fighting theFrench on sea," growled Turley.
A heavy rainstorm that came on did not improve their tempers, and when,just as they marched into Wynport, they were overtaken by Mr. Goodman,riding at a smart pace from a cross-road, they began to mutteruncomplimentary remarks about the zealous officer.
"Any luck, Mr. Hardy?" he cried, as he passed.
"None," replied Jack shortly.
"Sorry for that. Perhaps your search was not thorough enough: your menaren't used to it."
"Confound his impudence!" growled Turley, as the officer rode on. "Oneof us is worth three of his landsharks, anyway."
When Jack arrived at the _Dolphin_ Mr. Goodman was just leaving.
"Oh, Hardy!" cried Lieutenant Blake, as he entered, "Mr. Goodman tellsme you've found nothing."
"Not a ghost of a thing, sir. Gumley's as honest as a judge, in myopinion. Some one has played a scurvy trick on him and us."
"Well, look at this."
He handed Jack a dirty, crumpled piece of paper, on which he read:
"_Mr. Goodman, sir, a runn will be made at binsey cove tonite.--From afrend._"
"Another trick for certain, sir," said Jack.
"Very likely. Goodman says 'tis a sure sign the run will be madesomewhere else, if made at all, and in the opposite direction. He wantsthe cutter to cruise off Totley Point to-night after dark. His idea isthat if we stand away in the afternoon as if for Luscombe, we shall leadthe smugglers off the scent; then if we return after nightfall we shalltake 'em unawares. He'll have a strong force in hiding at Totley Point;that's where he thinks the run will actually be made, right under hisnose. It would be like the villains. Only a year ago, just after hecame into this district, he got a similar letter, and the cargo was runmiles away."
"Well, sir, if he's been caught that way once, the smugglers will hardlyexpect him to fall into the trap a second time."
"I'm not so sure about that. I don't fancy our friend Goodman has muchof a headpiece. If he is the simpleton I imagine he is, he will thinkthat the smugglers will take your view and expect him to be this time atBinsey Cove. Therefore, he'll go to Totley. The question is, where willthe run be made?"
"Perhaps the light we saw last night may have something to do with it.Don't you think, sir, it would be a good plan if I took a boat's crewand watched the shore off Luscombe, leaving you with the rest of the menin the _Fury_ to assist Mr. Goodman in case of need?"
"Not a bad idea, Hardy. We'll drop a boat some distance out at sea atdusk; you can pull in with muffled oars if you come across anythingsuspicious."
"The first thing, sir, will be to find out about the light we saw."
"Right. Find Babbage and get the crew together. We'll be off at once."
When the _Fury_ reached the position from which the light had beenobserved it was at once seen that, unless Jack had been wrong in hisbearings, the signal had not been made from the village.
"It was more in the direction of Congleton's Hollow, sir," said Jack."We can't see the Hollow itself, but there's the Folly to the left; youcan just see it over the trees: a tower where an old hermit lived alonewith his broken heart. That would make an excellent signal station."
"You know it, eh?"
"Yes, sir. But it didn't look as if it was ever used now. The onlydoorway is barricaded, and my young cousin told me it had been like thatever since he could remember. He said the top was supposed to bedangerous, and the place was boarded up after an accident that happenedever so many years ago. There was no other way in; the youngster--aninquisitive little chap--has tried more than once, and always failed."
"Humph! Is it worth trying again?"
"I'd be mighty glad to see, sir. But I couldn't do it in daylight. Imight be seen from the village. Yet I could hardly do much good atnight unless some one happened to be there at the time."
"Well, we can't risk discovery. We don't want to scare the signalersaway."
"Wouldn't it be best to land some distance down the coast one night, andget to the Folly about daybreak? I'd have the place to myself then."
"Right. We'll bide our time. Meanwhile, there's this anonymous letterto remember. I gave out at Wynport that we're going to run over toWeymouth; perhaps that will put our smuggling friends at Luscombe offthe scent."
The _Fury_ kept away all day, returning to a point opposite Luscombeafter nightfall. Lieutenant Blake told off Babbage and Turley and eightmore of the men to accompany Jack, and, a boat being lowered andprovided with muffled oars, the little party set off, while the _Fury_set a course for Totley Point, where Mr. Goodman had a posse ofpreventive men on the watch.
It was more than an hour and a half's steady rowing to the shore, andJack was not at all sure where he would strike the beach. Thinking overthe likely places along the shore, he felt certain that the run wouldprobably be attempted at a spot not far east of the path up which he hadfollowed De Fronsac. He wished the smugglers to get there before him,for if the vessel they expected had not yet arrived, they would bekeeping a good watch seaward, and his boat would run a great risk ofbeing discovered. But he had found out that Turley was born at Wynportand knew the coast pretty well, having spent several years as afisherman in the neighborhood, so that he was likely to recognize anylandmarks as soon as they came in view.
It was a still night, and very dark. The oars made scarcely any noiseas the men pulled steadily in toward the shore. At last Turley declaredthat he could just see the copse that crowned a chine leading down tothe beach, near the path that Jack had followed.
"You're sure, Turley?" asked Jack in a whisper.
"Sartin sure, sir."
"He've got cat's eyes, sir," murmured Babbage.
"We need them to-night," said Jack, peering anxiously into the darkness."Easy all, men."
He listened for sounds along the shore or from the sea. The breeze wasvery slight; it had become less as the boat neared the shore; and if itcontinued to die away there would soon be scarcely enough wind to carrya vessel in.
"We're about half a mile off, I think, Turley?"
"Just so, sir," replied Turley.
Jack was about to give the order to pull in a little closer when the manjust in front of him, who was facing seaward like the other rowers,raised one hand from his oar, and pointing to the right said in awhisper:
"Sail on the larboard quarter, sir."
Glancing backward in the direction indicated, Jack could justdistinguish in the distance a black shape gliding slowly up. He felthis heart jumping; the vessel had come so suddenly, so stealthily out ofthe blackness. Could his boat be seen from its deck? It was so low onthe water that he hoped it might pass undetected. The men werecrouching over their oars; there was dead silence in the boat, the crewscarcely daring to breathe. The dark shape came steadily on; it passed,and faded again into the darkness. Allowing time for it to get nearly inshore, Jack ordered the men to give way, and the boat again quicklymoved landward. He knew he was risking discovery, but hoped that theattention of the watchers on shore would be directed on the largervessel, and altogether overlook the smaller.
The coast hereabouts was rocky, and the approach to the shore had to bemade with care. Jack heard low voices ahead; he guessed that the peopleon shore were giving directions to those on the vessel.
"Channel's narrow, sir," whispered Turley, "but there's a good depth ofwater at all states of the tide; 'tis nigh high tide now, and that therecraft'll be able to run almost on to the beach and save a good deal offetching and carrying."
"How far are we out now?"
"About a couple of cables' length, to my thinking, sir."
"Easy all, men. Cutlasses ready!"
Jack had already decided that it would be useless to attempt to land atany point on either side and creep on the smugglers, for there wouldcertainly be watchers along the cliff. The attack, if made at all, mustbe made direct from the sea. He feared that, when the men gave way for afinal dash in, the boat might strike a rock; but he could still seedimly the chase ahead, and the tide being high, as Turley had said, heresolved to take his chance of running aground. The boat had followedquickly in the wake of the larger vessel; with a little luck a straightdash might be quite successful, for where the smugglers' craft drewfeet, his own scarcely drew inches, and he was so much excited at theprospect of his first encounter with the smugglers, that he was preparedto run no little risk.
Suddenly there was the sound of a sail being run down, of tacklecreaking, of low voices. The smugglers worked quickly, he knew; thevessel would scarcely have anchored or otherwise made fast before theybegan to carry their cargo ashore. The moment was come. He caught hisbreath for an instant; then, gripping the tiller ropes firmly, he said:
"Now, men, lay out--send her along!"
The sounds of the muffled oars were smothered in the noise from thelugger and the men tramping on shore. So intent were the smugglers ontheir work that they were unaware of what was upon them. The boatdashed straight for the lugger, which had swung round so that her bowwas first met. There was a shock; then a loud shout; and as Jack's menswarmed over on to the lugger's deck, they came face to face with asmall knot of men at the foremast, who had evidently hurriedly collectedto dispute the passage with the boarders.
Now shout answered shout. Barrels were dropped by the carriers and fellwith sharp thuds on the deck or with loud splashes into the water.Cutlass clashed on cutlass. At the first alarm the men on shore camedashing back to rejoin their comrades, springing across the long doubleplank that formed the gangway, to a bold ledge of rock serving as a kindof natural quay.
"Surrender, in the king's name!" shouted Jack, rushing forward.
He was answered by a vigorous French oath. Next moment the foremost ofthe smugglers, singling out the young officer coming at the head of hismen, aimed a shrewd blow at him with a cutlass. It was so dark thatJack could barely see the movement, but he just managed to swerve out ofthe way; then, shortening his arm he lunged, and felt with no littlesatisfaction that the weapon had got home.
At this moment he was almost carried off his feet by the vehemence ofhis own men, who in a compact body were sweeping all before them. In therush and tumble Jack felt a heavy blow on his head and staggered, savinghis fall by clutching at a halyard and leaning half-stunned against themast.
To the din of shouting and blows was now added the shrill screech of thebo'sun's whistle. Having cleared the deck aft of the mainmast, Babbageand his men were making a dash for the gangway, upon which the smugglerswere crowding back toward the lugger. But Babbage's zeal had outrun hisdiscretion. Before he knew it his party was beset on all sides. Frenchand English cries were mingled in one furious babel. No firearms wereused; the sound of shots would carry far in the still night air, andmight bring support to the king's men from a distance. But cutlasses andhangers were plied with vigor; the crew of the lugger, reinforced by themen from shore, outnumbered Jack's party by four to one, and these hadmuch ado to defend themselves in their turn from the sturdy assaults oftheir opponents.
With an effort Jack pulled himself together and pressed forward to lenda hand. His men were being remorselessly driven back. Doggedly theyfought, yielding only inch by inch; but it was clear that they wereoutmatched, and at length, by sheer weight of numbers, they were forcedover the bulwarks into the sea. Turley, who had all his wits about him,contrived to cut the painter holding the boat to the lugger's side; and,hardly aware how he came there, Jack found himself hanging to the sideof the boat, unable to do more than cling on for dear life. Two or threemen managed to scramble into the boat; they rowed it ashore. When itbeached, Jack and the men ran up across the shingle toward the cliffs.In a few minutes they were joined by others of their party, all drippingwet, and furious with rage at their defeat.
"'Tis all through old Turnip-tops," growled Turley. "The idea of hislosing his head that way!"
"Anybody seen him?" asked Jack, whose teeth were chattering; he had notyet recovered from the blow on his head.
"Never a man, sir. But there's the lugger making sail. We've lost thecargo and got nothing for our pains but broken heads and such like."
Jack saw the dim shape of the lugger disappearing seaward. In fiveminutes every trace of the smugglers had vanished, except a broken kegor two on the shingle, from which gusts of the odor of spirits reachedthe men gathered in a knot above. By and by Babbage turned up,declaring that if it hadn't been for Turley the attack would have been agreat success. Before long the party was complete, none having beenkilled, though several had had a narrow escape from drowning. They hadbeen saved by the planks of the gangway, which the smugglers, in theirhaste to escape, had allowed to fall into the water.
Jack wondered why the smugglers had fled when it would have been an easymatter for them to overwhelm the king's men.
"Why, they were afeard, sir," said Babbage. "The noise was enough tobring all Dorset upon 'em, and how did they know but that theriding-officer was nigh, ready to come down on 'em? And so he ought toha' bin."
"Well, they've let us off easily," said Jack. "We'd better get our boatafloat and hunt for the _Fury_."
"Ay, sir, and won't Mr. Blake be in a fury when he hears the tale! Allwe've got is cuts, bruises, and a ducking!"