CHAPTER XII.
I FALL AMONG SMUGGLERS.
I awoke to a most curious sensation. The night was still black andonly the ridge of the cliff opposite showed, by the light of the manystars, its dull outline above; yet I felt that the whole beach hadsuddenly become crowded with people--that they were moving stealthilyabout me, whispering, picking their way among the loose stones,hunting me and yet hushing their voices as though themselves afraid.
At first, you may be sure--wakened as I was from sleep--I had nodoubt but that this unseen band of folk was after me. All thatfollowed my awakening passed so quickly that I cannot separate dreamsnow from guesses nor apprehensions from realities. I do remember,however, that, whereas the soldiers from whom I had run had been onfoot, my first fears were of a pursuit by cavalrymen, and thereforeit seems likely that some sound of horses' trampling must have setthem in train: but, though I strained my ears, they detected nothingof the sort--only a subdued murmur, as of human voices, down by thewater's edge, and now and again the cautious crunch of a footstepupon shingle. Even this I had not heard but for the extreme quiet onthe sea under the off-shore wind.
Gradually, by the light of the stars, I separated from thesurrounding shadows that of a whole mass of people inert and darklycrowded there: and then--almost as I guessed their business--thecliff above me shot up a flame; and their forms and their dismayedupturned faces stood out distinct in the glare of it.
"Loose the horses and clear!" yelled someone; and another voice deepand wrathful began to curse, but was drowned by a stampede of hoofsupon the shingle. Straight forth from the sea--or so it looked tome--some twenty or thirty naked horses, without rider, bit, orbridle, broke from the crowd and came plunging up the beach at agallop. They were met by a roar from the cove-head, and with that aline of glittering helmets and cuirasses sprang out of the night andcharged past me.
"Dragoons! Dragoons!"
As the yell reached me from the waterside and the men there scatteredand ran, I saw the shock of the double charge--the flame overheadlighting up every detail of it. The riderless horses, though theyopened and swerved, neither turned tail nor checked their pace, butheading suddenly towards the left wing of the troop went through itas water through a gate, the dragoons either vainly hacking at themwith their sabres, or leaning from their saddles and as vainlyattempting to grip the brutes. Grip there was none to be had.These were smugglers' horses, clipped to the skin, with houghedmanes, and tails and bodies sleek with soft soap. Nor did thedragoons waste more trouble upon them, but charged forward and downupon the crowd at the water's edge.
And as they charged I saw--but could not believe--that on a suddenthe crowd had vanished. A moment before they had been jostling,shouting, cursing. They were gone now like ghosts. The light stillflared overhead. It showed no boat beyond the cove--only thetroopers reaching right across it in an irregular line, as each manhad been able to check his horse--the most of them on the verge ofthe shingle, but many floundering girth-deep, and one or two evenswimming. The Riding Officer, who had followed them, was bawling andpointing with his whip towards the cliff--at what I could not tell.
I had no time to wonder: for an unholy din broke out, on the sameinstant, at the head of the beach. A couple of the smugglers' horseshad been hurled over by the dragoons' impact, and lay, hurt beyondrecovery, lashing out across the shingle with their heels. A thirdhad gone down under a sabre-cut, but had staggered up and was lobbingafter his comrades at a painful canter. They had traversed the heavyshingle, reached the harder stones at the cove's head and weresailing away at stretched gallop when a volley rang out from theshadow of the cliff there, and the scream of more than one mingledwith fresh shouting. At that moment, and just before the flame aboveme sank and died almost as swiftly as it had first shot up, asoldier--not a dragoon, but a man in red coat and white breeches--ranforward and sprang at the girth of the wounded horse, which hadstumbled again. He did the wise thing--for a single girth was thesehorses' only harness: but whether he caught it or not I could nottell. Ten or a dozen soldiers followed, to help him. And, the nextinstant, total darkness came down on the scene like a shutter.
It did not last long. The red-coats, it turned out, had broughtlanterns, and now, at a shouted order from their commanding officeranswering the call of the dragoon officer below, began to light them.They meant, I doubted not, to make a strict search of the cliffs;and, if they did--my cave being but a shallow one--there was no hopefor me. But just then a dismounted trooper came running up thebeach, his scabbard scraping the shingle as he went by: and his firstwords explained the mystery of the crowd's disappearance.
"Where's your officer commanding?" he panted. "The devils have gotaway into the next cove through a kind of hole in the cliff--a kindof archway so far as we make out. They've blocked it with stones andposted three-four men there, threatening sudden death. By their ownaccount they're armed. Major Dilke's holding them to parley, andwants the loan of a lantern while you, sir, march your men round andtake the gang in the rear. They reckon they've none but us to dealwith."
The infantry officer grunted that he understood, sent the trooperback with a lantern, and quietly formed up and marched off hiscompany. From my hiding-place I caught scraps of the parley at thelower end of the beach--or rather of Major Dilke's share in it; forthe smugglers answered him through a tunnel, and I could only heartheir voices mumbling in response to the threats which he flung forthon the wide night. He was in no sweet temper, having been cheated ofa rich haul: for the flare had, of course, warned away the expectedboat, and I supposed that some of the red-coats had been dispatchedat once to search the headland for the man who lit it. Revenge wasnow the Major's game, and, by his tune, he meant to have it.
But while I lay listening, a stone trickled from the cliff overheadand plumped softly upon the seaweed at the mouth of my cave. It wasfollowed by a rush of small gravel (had the Major not, at the moment,been declaiming at his loudest, his men must surely have heard it):and this again by the plumb fall of a heavy body which still lay fora full five seconds after alighting, and then emitted a groan soeloquent that it raised the roots of my hair.
I held my breath. More seconds passed, and the body groaned again,still more dolefully.
We were within three yards of one another; and, friend or foe,if he continued to lie and groan like this for long, flesh and bloodcould not stand it.
"Are you hurt?" I summoned up voice to ask.
"The devil!" I had feared that he would scream. But he sat up--I saw his shoulders fill the mouth of the cave between me and thestarlight. By his attitude he was peering at me through thedarkness. "Who are you?"
"If you please, sir, I'm a boy."
"Glad to hear it. I took you at first for one of those cursedsoldiers. Hiding, eh?"
"Yes, sir."
"So am I: but this is a mighty poor place for it. They may be hereany moment with their lanterns: we had better cut across whileeverything's dark. Gad!" he said, throwing his head back as if tostare upwards, "I must have dropped twenty feet. Wonder if I'vebroken anything?" He stood up, and appeared to be feeling his limbscarefully. "Sound as a bell!" he announced. "Come along, youngster:we'll get out of this first and talk afterwards."
He put out a hand, seeking for mine; but, missing it, touched my ribswith his open palm and drew it away sharply.
"Good Lord, the boy's naked!"
"I've been swimming," said I.
"All right. Get out of this first and talk afterwards, that's theorder. There's a rug in my tilbury, if we can only reach it. Nowthen, follow me close--and gently over the shingle!"
Like shadows we stole forth and across the cove. No one spied us,and, thanks perhaps to Major Dilke's sustained oratory, no one heard.
"There's a track hereabouts," my new friend whispered as we gainedthe farther cliff. "This looks like it--no--yes, here it is!Close after me, sonny, and up we go. Surely, 'tis Robinson Crusoeand man Friday with a touch of somethin
g else thrown in--can't thinkwhat, for the moment, unless 'tis the scaling of Plataea. Ever readThucydides?"
"No, sir."
"He's a nigger. He floored me at Brasenose: but I bear the old cockno malice. Now you wouldn't think I was a University man, eh?"
"No, sir." I had not the least notion of his meaning.
"I am, though; and, what's more, I'm a Justice of the Peace andDeputy-Lieutenant for the county of Cornwall. Ever heard of JackRogers of Brynn?"
Once more I had to answer "No, sir."
"Then, excuse me, but where in thunder do you come from?" He haltedand confronted me in the path. This was a facer, for the words"Justice of the Peace" had already set me quaking.
"If you please, sir, I'd rather not tell."
"No, I dare say not," he replied magisterially. "It's my fate to getinto these false positions. Now there was Josh Truscott ofBlowinghouse--Justice of the Peace and owned two thousand acres--whatyou might call a neat little property. _He_ never allowed it tointerfere, and yet somehow he carried it off. Do I make myselfplain?"
"Not very, sir."
"Well, for instance, one day he was expecting company. There was afountain in the middle of the lawn at Blowinghouse, and a statue ofHercules that his old father had brought home from Italy and plantedin the middle of it. Josh couldn't bear that statue--said themuscles were all wrong. So, if you please, he takes it down, dresseshimself in nothing at all--same as you might be, bare as my palm--anda Justice of the Peace, mind you--and stands himself in the middle ofthe fountain, with all the guests arriving. Not an easy thing topass off, and it caused a scandal: but folks didn't seem to mind.'It was Truscott's way,' they said: 'after all, he comes of a cleverfamily, and we hope his son will be better.' A man wants characterto carry off a thing like that."
I agreed that character must have been Mr. Truscott's secret.
"Now _I_ couldn't do that for the life of me," Mr. Rogers sighed, andchuckled over another reminiscence. "Josh had a shindy once with agroom. The fellow asked for a rise in wages. 'You couldn't havesaid anything more hurtful to my feelings,' Josh told him, andknocked him down. There was a hole in one of his orchards wherethey'd been rooting up an old apple-tree. He put the fellow in that,tilled him up to his neck in earth, and kept him there till heapologised. Not at all an easy thing for a Justice of the Peace topass off: but, bless you, folks said that he came of a clever countyfamily, and hoped his son would be better. The fellow didn't evenbring an action." Mr. Rogers broke off suddenly, and seemed tomeditate a new train of thought. "Hang it!" he exclaimed. "Ibelieve 'tis a hundred pounds. I must look it up when I get back."
"What is a hundred pounds, sir?" I asked.
"Penalty for showing a coast-light without authority. Lydia laid meten pounds I hadn't the pluck, though; and that'll bring it down toninety at the worst. She'd a small fortune in this trip, too, whichshe stood to lose: but, as it turns out, I've saved that for her.Oh, she's a treasure!"
"Did you light the flare?" I began to see that I had fallen in withan original, and that he might be humoured.
"Eh?--to be sure I did! 'Slocked away the man in charge by mimickingPascoe's voice--he's the freighter, and talks like a man with no roofto his mouth. I'm a pretty good mimic, though I say it. Nothingeasier, after that. You see, Lydia had laid me ten pounds that as aJustice of the Peace I hadn't wit nor pluck to spoil her next run;honestly, that is. She knows I wouldn't blow on her for worlds.Oh, we understand one another! Now you and I'll go off and call onher, and hear what she says about it. For in a way I've won, and ina way I've not. I stopped the run, but also I've saved the cargo forher: for the devil a notion had I that the soldiers had wind of it;and, but for the flare, the boats would have run in and lost everytub. Here we are, my lad!"
We had climbed the cliff and were crossing a field of stubble grass,very painful to my feet. I saw the shadow of a low hedge in front,but these words of Mr. Rogers conveyed nothing to me. "Soh, soh, mygirl!" he called softly, advancing towards the shadow: and at first Isupposed him to be addressing the mysterious Lydia. But following Isaw him smoothing the neck of a small mare tethered beside the hedge,and the next moment had almost blundered against a light two-wheeledcarriage resting on its shafts a few yards away.
Mr. Rogers whispered to me to lift the shafts. "And be quiet aboutit: there's a road t'other side of the hedge. Soh, my girl--sweetly,sweetly!" He backed the mare between the shafts, harnessed her, andled her along to a gate opening on the road.
"Jump up, my lad," he commanded, as he steered the tilbury through;and up I jumped. "There's a rug somewhere by your feet, andLydia'll do the rest for you. Cl'k, my darling!"
Away we bowled.
The Adventures of Harry Revel Page 12
