Gilbert thought the life of a bold smugglerabout the finest and most exciting he could wish for.
They soon reached the French coast. Dick invited Gilbert to go onshore, and introduced him into scenes of vice of which before he had hadno experience. The _Saucy Sally_ was detained some days taking in hercargo. The whole of this time was spent by Dick and Gilbert on shore,in company with several other profligate young men.
"Well, you have seen something of life," observed Dick, as they wereonce more on board. "You will find it somewhat slow work when you goback to help your father on his farm--eh, lad?"
"I cannot go back," answered Gilbert gloomily; "I should like to assistin running our cargo. There is excitement in that sort of work whichsuits my fancy."
"I admire your spirit, lad!" exclaimed Captain Rogers, who overheardhim. "If you stick by us, we will stick by you, and you shall have ashare in the profits of our Venture; I know I can trust you, from what Ihave seen of you. Wherever there is danger, I shall expect you to benear to help me," and Slippery Rogers shook Gilbert's hand warmly.
On the voyage back to England a bright look-out was kept for any Revenuecruisers which might be on the watch. Twice the _Saucy Sally_ waschased. Once, as a thick fog lifted, she found herself close to aRevenue bruiser, from which several shots struck her, killing one manand wounding two; but notwithstanding, with the help of oars and sails,she managed to get away. The _Saucy Sally_ reached the English coast atnight, and Captain Rogers threw up a signal, to let his friends on shoreknow of his arrival. A signal, to show that all was right, wasreturned. The _Saucy Sally_ ran in, and boats coming to her, in awonderfully short time the whole of her cargo was landed.
"Come!" said Dick to Gilbert, "if you wish to see all the fun, you mustassist in conveying our cargo inland," and he gave him a brace ofpistols and a short gun, such as the rest were armed with.
Dick then told Gilbert to mount a horse, over the back of which a coupleof ankers were slung, and he found himself riding along in company witha large gang of smugglers similar to those he had met with a short timebefore. He was now thoroughly involved with the smugglers, and lessthan ever could he venture, so he thought, to go home. Captain Rogersand Dick felt that they had got him securely in their toils, and thatthey could make use of him as an instrument to do whatever they mightrequire.
They had got some distance inland when a halt was called, a scout havingcome back with the information that danger was ahead. A consultationwas held among the leaders, who determined to push on, and if necessary,to fight their way. Dick and Gilbert, and others on horseback, weresummoned to the front. Advancing for half a mile, they saw drawn up astrong body of mounted Revenue officers. The smugglers with oathsordered them to get out of their way, and on their refusing, rode boldlyforward, firing as they advanced. The Revenue officers fired in return.
"Make use of your weapon, Gilbert!" cried Dick, seeing that hiscompanion hesitated to attempt killing his fellow-countrymen engaged inthe performance of their duty. "Are you chicken-hearted, lad? Ithought better of you."
Thus taunted, Gilbert raised his piece. One of the officers was seen tofall from his saddle. More smugglers coming up, the Revenue men,finding themselves far outnumbered, retreated, carrying off two or threewounded companions. One smuggler had been killed, and several slightlywounded. The smugglers dashed on, the dead man being put into one ofthe waggons, and without further hindrance reached their destination.
"You did that well," said Dick to Gilbert; "I saw you bring the fellowdown; should not be surprised that you killed him."
Gilbert shuddered. Had he really been guilty of the death of afellow-creature? if so, all hope of ever returning home was gone; hewould be hunted as a murderer, and murder, he had often heard, was sureto be discovered.
Dick saw the effect his remark had produced, and tried to laugh it off.
"Why, my good fellow, such things happen every day, and it's no usebeing downcast about it," he observed. "You can take up your oldquarters at Deadman's Farm till the _Saucy Sally_ sails again; and thenif you have a fancy for it, we will make a longer trip. The skipperintends to try his luck on another part of the coast, as this littleaffair will probably make the forest too hot for us for a time. Weshall be back again, however, when it blows over, depend upon that."
Gilbert lay concealed for about a week. He had time for reflection, andhad he dared, he would have gone back.
"It's too late now, though; it's too late!" he groaned out, and hadrecourse to the brandy-bottle to stifle conscience.
He was once more on board the lugger, and from henceforth for severalyears was the constant associate of the smugglers. During the time hepaid several visits to the neighbourhood of Christchurch; but he was socompletely changed in appearance that even had he met any of his oldacquaintances, they would not have recognised him. He had long ceasedto be called by his own name, having assumed another, by which he wasknown among his associates. Dick Hockley and Slippery Rogers, andothers who were acquainted with his secret, kept it for their ownobjects, and under his assumed name he became known as one of the mostdaring and desperate of the band.
CHAPTER FIVE.
Hugh had returned to college. It was again summer. Arthur studiedharder than ever during every spare moment. He assisted his father asfar as he could, but Mr Maitland saw that his heart was not in the work,and he more than once observed--
"I am afraid, Arthur, you will make no hand at farming."
"I will do my best, at all events," was Arthur's reply. He frequently,as before, rode out with Mary. They were sometimes joined by HarryActon, a young man who had lately taken a farm in the neighbourhood, andwho seldom failed when he met them to turn his horse's head round, andaccompany them on their ride. He was intelligent and well educated, andArthur liked him from the first. Mary gave no opinion, but she did notobject to his accompanying them. Mr Maitland, after hearing Arthur'sreport, invited Mr Acton in to tea, and seemed favourably impressed withhim. He only thought him rather grave, and was surprised that a youngman accustomed to country life should not take any interest in races orsporting, and had even declined to join the hunt.
"Life is too short for idle amusement," Harry observed to Mary one day."I have abundance of exercise in attending to my farm, and I feel that Iam responsible to God for the proper employment of my time."
Mary thought that a little amusement now and then could not be wrong.
"Relaxation from business for our mental or bodily health may not beso," answered Harry; "but when I reflect that I am responsible to Godfor every moment of my life, I cannot reconcile it to my conscience tospend time in pursuits which do not tend to honour and glorify Him."
Mary had never heard such language used before; and though she hadalready learned to like him too much to quarrel with him, she wasdisposed to think him somewhat puritanical.
Still Harry Acton came and came again, and Mary looked forward to hisvisits with pleasure. Serious as his remarks were sometimes, he talkedwell on numerous subjects, and she confessed that he was very agreeable.Arthur liked him more and more, and was thankful to have found acompanion who could enter into his feelings and views.
Mary and Arthur had ridden over one day to Lyndhurst, and were passingthrough, that picturesque village, when they saw a large number ofpeople collected on the green beneath the wide-spreading trees whichbounded one side of it. Approaching, they saw a person mounted on asmall platform, which raised him above the assemblage. He was of atall, commanding figure; and as he stood bareheaded, it was seen thathis hair was slightly tinged with grey, thrown back from off his highand expansive forehead. He was giving out a hymn in a clear, fullvoice, which reached even to the distance they were from him.
"He is a Methodist of some sort," observed Arthur. "I suppose, Mary,you do not wish to stop and hear him."
"I should be sorry to pass by without ascertaining whether what he issaying is worth listening to," answered Mary. "I like the tone of hisvoice, and I r
emember learning that hymn from our poor mother."
It was "Rock of Ages cleft for me."
The young people drew near to the outside of the circle formed round thepreacher. Though thus at some distance, every word he uttered wasdistinctly heard. The hymn concluded, in which a number of peoplejoined, he offered up a short prayer that the blessing of God's HolySpirit might convey the words he spoke to the hearts of his hearers, andhe implored them to reflect that they had immortal souls which must livefor ever in happiness unspeakable or in immeasurable woe.
"And yet what claim have we to the bliss and glory of heaven?" he asked."We have none. Every man is vile and outcast, full of disobedience,utterly sinful--ay, a rebel against God! Unregenerate man lives in openrebellion against his Maker. As well might
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