The Lifeboat

by R. M. Ballantyne

  CHAPTER ELEVEN.

  THE SMUGGLERS' CAVE--A SURPRISE, A DECEPTION, A FIGHT, AND AN ESCAPE.

  The Fiddler's Cave, _alias_ Canterbury Cave, _alias_ the Smugglers'Cave, is a cavern of unknown extent situated under the high chalk cliffsat the southern extremity of Saint Margaret's Bay.

  Tradition informs us that its first appellation was bestowed inconsequence of a fiddler having gone into it with his dog many yearsago, and never having come out again. Four days afterwards the dogcrept out in a dying condition. It is supposed that the man must havewandered too far into the cavern, and been overpowered by foul air.Tradition also says that there is a passage from it, underground, allthe way to Canterbury, a distance of eighteen miles; hence its secondname. No one, however, seems to have verified this report. The Kentishsmugglers, from whom the cave derives its last title, have undoubtedlymade much use of it in days of old. At the period of our story, theentrance to Fiddler's Cave was so much obstructed by rubbish and sandthat a man had to stoop low on entering the passage which led to theinterior. At the present day the entrance is so nearly closed up that aman could not creep along it even on his hands and knees.

  Here, on the threatening night of which we are writing, a boatman stoodon the watch, close under the rocks that overhung the entrance to thecavern. The man was habited, like most of his brethren of the coast, inrough garments, with long boots, sou'-wester cap, and oiled, tarred, andgreased upper garments, suitable to the stormy night in which he hadseen fit to hold his vigil.

  A feeble ray of light that struggled in the cavern showed that the manclutched a pistol in his right hand, and with a frown on his brow,glanced alternately out to sea where all was darkness, and along shorewhere the only visible living object was the figure of old Colemanseated on his "donkey." It need scarcely be added that the sight of thecoast-guard-man was the cause of the smuggler's frown.

  The gale was now blowing stiffly, and rolling black clouds so coveredthe sky that the moon was entirely obscured by them, save when anoccasional break permitted a few rays to stream down and reveal theelemental strife that was going on below.

  Coleman, regardless of the storm, maintained his position on hisone-legged companion, and bending his body to the blast, endeavoured topierce the gloom that enshrouded everything seaward beyond the largebreakers that sent their foam hissing up to his very feet. While he satthere he thought, or muttered, thus:--

  "It's odd, now, I'd ha' thought he'd have run ashore afore this; seein'that I've sat on this here donkey for more nor an hour, a-purpose to lethim see that I'm only watchin' _here_, and nowhere else. He can't butsee there's a goodish lump o' the coast free to him so long as I sithere. But he's a sly feller; p'raps he suspects somethin'. An' yet,I'll go bound, he don't guess that there's six or seven of his worstenemies hidin' all along the coast, with eyes like needles, and ears onfull cock! How'sever, it won't do to sit much longer. If he don't comein five minutes, I'll git up an' walk along in an easy unsuspectin' way.Dear me, wot a set o' hypocrites we've got to be in the hexecution ofour dooty!"

  While Coleman moralised thus, in utter ignorance of the near proximityof an eye-witness, the smuggler at the mouth of the cave, who was noother than Orrick's friend, Rodney Nick, muttered some remarks betweenhis teeth which were by no means complimentary to the other.

  "What are ye sittin' there for, ye old idiot?" said he savagely. "I dob'lieve ye've larned to sleep on the donkey. Ha! there's two of yetogether, an' the wooden one's the best. Wouldn't I just like to be yerleftenant, my boy? an' I'd come to know why you don't go on your beat.Why, there may be no end o' cats and galleys takin' the beach wi' baccyan' lush enough to smother you up alive, an' you sittin' there snuffin'the east wind like an old ass, as ye are."

  The smuggler uttered the last sentence in deep exasperation, for thetime appointed for signalising his comrades at sea had arrived, and yetthat stolid coast-guard-man sat there as if he had become fastened tothe shingle.

  "I've a good mind to run out an' hit ye a crack over yer figure-head,"he continued, grasping his pistol nervously and taking a step forward."Hallo! one would a'most think you'd heard me speak," he added andshrank back, as Coleman rose from his seat (the five minutes havingexpired), and sauntered with a careless air straight towards the cave.

  On reaching it he paused and looked into it. Rodney Nick crouched inthe shadow of a projecting rock, and grasped his pistol tightly for amoment, under the impression that he was about to be discovered. He wasone of those fierce, angry men who are at all times ready to risk theirlives in order to gratify revenge. Old Coleman had more than oncethwarted Rodney Nick in his designs, besides having in other waysincurred his dislike, and there is no doubt that had the coast-guard-mandiscovered him at that moment, he would have paid for the discovery withhis life. Fortunately for both of them Coleman turned after standing afew seconds at the mouth of the cave, and retraced his steps along thebeach.

  He prolonged his walk on this occasion to the extremity of his beat,but, long before reaching that point his figure was lost to thesmuggler's view in darkness.

  "At last!" exclaimed Rodney Nick, taking a dark lantern from his breast,and peering cautiously in every direction. "Now then, Long Orrick, ifye look sharp we'll cheat 'em again, and chew our quids and drink ourgrog free of dooty!"

  As he muttered his words the smuggler flashed the lantern for aninstant, in such a manner that its brilliant bull's-eye was visible farout at sea. Again he let its light shine out for one instant; then heclosed the lid and awaited the result.

  Out upon the sea, not far from the wild breakers that thundered andburst in foam on the south end of the Goodwin Sands, a boat, of the sizeand form styled by men of the coast a "cat," was tossing idly on thewaves. The men in her were employed in the easy task of keeping herhead to the wind, and in the anxious occupation of keeping a "brightlook-out" on the shore.

  "Time's up," said one of the men, turning suddenly towards hiscompanions, and allowing the light of a dark lantern to fall on the faceof a watch which he held in his hand.

  "Dowse the glim, you lubber," cried the angry voice of Long Orrick, "andkeep a sharp look-out for the signal. If it don't come we'll run forOld Stairs Bay, an' if they're too sharp for us there we'll make forPegwell Bay, and drop the tubs overboard with sinkers at 'em."

  For nearly quarter of an hour the party in the boat watched in silence.It was evident that Long Orrick was becoming impatient from the way inwhich he turned, now to windward, to scan the threatening sky, and thento land-ward, to look for the expected signal. He felt, on the onehand, that if the gale continued to increase, it would be necessary torun for the nearest place of safety; and he felt, on the other hand,that if he did not succeed in landing the goods at Fiddler's Cave, therewould be small chance of his getting them ashore at all.

  "There's the glim," cried one of the men.

  "All right! up with a bit o' the sail," said Long Orrick, seizing thetiller from the man who held it.

  In a second or two they were driving before the wind straight for theshore. With such a stiff breeze the boat was soon close to thebreakers, and now the utmost care was necessary in order to prevent itfrom broaching-to and being capsized. No anxiety was felt, however, bythe crew of the little craft. Deal boatmen are noted for theirexpertness in beaching their boats and in putting off to sea in roughweather, and the man who held the tiller of the little boat which dancedon the white crests of the waves that night had many and many a timecome through such trifling danger scatheless.

  "Look out, Bill," cried Orrick, as the thunder of the waves on the beachsounded in his ears, and the great chalk cliffs rose up, ghostlike anddim, before him. To one unaccustomed to such scenes it might haveappeared an act of madness to run ashore on such a night. But thedanger was not so great as it seemed.

  The man at the bow stood ready with a boat-hook. In a moment the keelgrated on the shingle. Instantly the men were over the side, and theboat was hauled up the beach.

 
; "Now, then, for the tubs. Make for the cave straight. Rodney Nick willbe here in a minute. Ah, here he comes! Well, Rodney, we've done itpretty smart," said Long Orrick, wading with a keg of brandy towards afigure which approached him from the beach. "Here you are! there's lotsmore of 'em. We're in luck. Look alive. The coast's clear, Isuppose?"

  "Hall right," said the dark figure in a hoarse whisper, which terminatedin a low chuckle, as Long Orrick placed the keg innocently in the armsof old Coleman and returned to the boat for more!

  It may be as well to remark here--in order to clear up this mystery--that although Coleman had not observed the flash of Rodney Nick'slantern, his sharp eye had observed the gleam of the light in the boat,when one of the men, as already mentioned, threw it on the face of histimepiece.

  Supposing, erroneously, that this latter was a signal to the shore,Coleman, nevertheless, came to the correct conclusion that some one mustbe awaiting Long Orrick near at hand, and felt convinced that theSmugglers' Cave must needs be the rendezvous.

  Hastening cautiously to Bax, whose station was not far distant from thecave, he communicated his suspicions, and they went together towards theplace.

  "I'll go in first," said Coleman, "'cause I know the place better thanyou do."

  "Very good," assented Bax, "I'll stand by to lend a hand."

  Arrived at the cavern, Bax waited outside, and Coleman went in sostealthily that he was at Rodney Nick's side before that worthy had thesmallest suspicion of his presence. Indeed, Coleman would certainlyhave run against the smuggler in the dark, had not the latter happenedto have been muttering savage threats against wind and tide, friends andfoes, alike, in consequence of the non-appearance of the boat.

  Seizing him suddenly from behind, Coleman placed his knee in the smallof his back, forced him almost double, and then laid him flat on theground.

  At the same moment Bax knelt by his side, put one of his strong hands onthe smuggler's right arm--thereby rendering it powerless--and placed theother on his mouth.

  So quickly was it all done that Rodney was bound and gagged in less thantwo minutes. Coleman then ran out just in time to receive the firstinstalment of the brandy, as already related. Being much the same inbuild and height with Rodney Nick, he found no difficulty in passing forhim in the darkness of the night and violence of the wind, which latterrendered his hoarse whispers almost unintelligible.

  In this way several kegs of brandy, boxes of cigars, and bundles oftobacco were landed and conveyed to the cavern by Coleman, who refusedto allow Bax to act as an assistant, fearing that his great size mightbetray him.

  On the fifth or sixth trip he found Long Orrick waiting for him somewhatimpatiently.

  "You might have brought a hand with ye, man," said the latter, testily.

  "Couldn't git one," said Coleman, taking the keg that was delivered tohim.

  "What say?" cried Orrick.

  "Couldn't git one," repeated the other, as loudly and hoarsely as hecould whisper.

  "Speak out, man," cried Long Orrick, with an oath; "you ain't used tohave delicate lungs."

  "I couldn't git nobody to come with me," said Coleman, in a loudervoice.

  The tone was not distinct, but it was sufficient to open the eyes of thesmuggler. Scarcely had the last word left his lips when Colemanreceived a blow between the eyes that laid him flat on the beach.Fortunately the last wave had retired. There was only an inch or so offoam around him. Long Orrick knelt on his foe, and drew a knife fromhis girdle. Before the next wave came up, Coleman with one hand caughtthe uplifted arm of his adversary, and with the other discharged apistol which he had drawn from his breast. In another instant they werestruggling with each other in the wave which immediately swept over thebeach, and Bax was standing over them, uncertain where to strike, as thedarkness rendered friend and foe alike undistinguishable.

  The men in the boat at once rushed to the rescue, omitting to takeweapons with them in their haste. Seeing this, Bax seized thestruggling men by their collars, and exerting his great strength to theutmost, dragged them both high upon the beach. He was instantlyassailed by the crew, the first and second of whom he knocked downrespectively with a right and left hand blow; but the third sprang onhim behind and two others came up at the same moment--one on each side--and seized his arms.

  Had Bax been an ordinary man, his case would have been hopeless; buthaving been endowed with an amount of muscular power and vigour farbeyond the average of strong men, he freed himself in a somewhat curiousmanner. Bending forward, he lifted the man who grasped him round theneck from behind quite off his legs, and, by a sudden stoop, threw himcompletely over his head. This enabled him to hurl his other assailantsto the ground, where they lay stunned and motionless. He then darted atColeman and Long Orrick, who were still struggling together withtremendous fury.

  Seeing his approach, the smuggler suddenly gave in, relaxed his hold,and exclaimed, with a laugh, as Bax laid hold of him--

  "Well, well, I see it's all up with me, so it's o' no use resistin'."

  "No, that it ain't, my friend," said Coleman, rising and patting his foeon the back. "I can't tell ye how pleased I am to meet with ye. You'regettin' stouter, I think. Smugglin' seems to agree with ye!--hey?"

  He said this with a leer, and Bax laughed as he inspected Long Orrickmore narrowly.

  The fact was that the smuggler's clothing was so stuffed in all partswith tobacco that his lanky proportions had quite disappeared, and hehad become so ludicrously rotund as to be visibly altered even in a darknight!

  "Well, it does agree with me, that's a fact," said Long Orrick, with asavage laugh; in the tone of which there was mingled however, quite asmuch bitterness as merriment.

  Just at this moment the rest of Coleman's friends, including Tommy Bogeyand Peekins, appeared on the scene in breathless haste, having beenattracted by the pistol-shot.

  In the eager question and answer that followed, Long Orrick was for amoment not sufficiently guarded. He wrenched himself suddenly from theloosened grasp of Bax, and, darting between several of the party, one ofwhom he floored in passing with a left-handed blow, he ran along theshore at the top of his speed!

  Bax, blazing with disappointment and indignation, set off in fiercepursuit, and old Coleman, bursting with anger, followed as fast as hisshort legs and shorter wind would permit him. Guy Foster and several ofthe others joined in the chase, while those who remained behindcontented themselves with securing the men who had been alreadycaptured.