‘Poor Scamp,’ giggled Rachel. ‘He must have got a terrible fright.’
‘Aye,’ laughed Cowlick. ‘I think they flew into his face.’
‘Yugh,’ shivered Róisín. ‘I wouldn’t fancy that.’
‘Bats are harmless,’ said Rachel.
‘I know. But still. It’s the thought of it.’
‘Well, they saved our bacon anyway,’ said Cowlick.
‘Aye. I didn’t fancy the thought of Whaler getting his big hands on us,’ said Tapser.
‘Do you think Max is involved in this smuggling business then?’ asked Róisín.
‘There’s something very funny going on over there,’ said Tapser.
‘Why do you say that?’ asked Rachel.
‘Well for a start,’ Cowlick told her, ‘that lorry had no lights on.’
‘And Whaler didn’t want to put the lights on in the yard,’ recalled Tapser.
‘I wonder why?’ said Róisín.
‘Unless it was a lorry-load of poteen they were smuggling down from the mountains,’ said Cowlick.
‘Maybe they were just empties that had been collected,’ suggested Rachel.
‘Then why bring them in at this time of night?’ argued Tapser. ‘And with the lights switched off. No, there’s something funny about the way they were acting.’
‘Not to mention the boat,’ Cowlick reminded them.
‘That is funny,’ Rachel agreed. ‘Do you think it was poteen too?’
‘Sure they wouldn’t be bringing poteen down from the mountains that way,’ asserted Róisín.
‘And it was properly bottled and all,’ Tapser recalled.
‘Just like the bottles from the machine.’
‘Well the mountainy men wouldn’t be bottling it like that,’ said Róisín, ‘from what I know of them.’
‘Do you think that machine could be the big still Peppi was talking about?’ asked Tapser.
‘Not at all,’ said Cowlick. ‘They don’t make poteen in a contraption like that. It would have to have a fire and barrels and all sorts of things, and anyway you’d smell it.’
‘Do you still think we should have a look at Peppi’s caravan?’ asked Róisín.
‘Why not?’ said Tapser. ‘Sure maybe he’s involved in this business too. He could be the contact man or anything up the mountain.’
‘Could he have something to do with the appearance of Hugh Rua on the High Road?’ asked Cowlick.
‘Well, as you say, he does seem to know a lot about this poteen business,’ said Tapser.
‘But the police seem to think it’s Sam Stephenson or Blind Jack who are behind that,’ Rachel reminded them. ‘And they do know an awful lot about coaches and highwaymen.’
That was true, the others had to admit, so they continued to turn the various possibilities over in their minds as they made their way back up to The Highwayman Inn.
They could tell by the music and the general sound of merriment that the ceili was still in full swing, but there was still no sign of Peppi’s caravan so they sat down on the low wall and wondered what to do.
Below them, the waves glistened in the moonlight as they rolled in and crashed against the rocks. They were almost like phantom white horses, thought Tapser, and as he looked down he couldn’t help feeling how strong and powerful they sounded, and how dark and lonely a place the beach seemed at night. ‘Are there many caves along the cliffs?’ he asked.
‘There’s a lot of them all right,’ Cowlick told him. ‘But I never knew one of them went in under the Castle Spa.’
‘Well, we’re going to have to do a bit of exploring the first chance we get,’ said Tapser.
Cowlick glanced around. ‘I wonder where Peppi is? He said he would be here.’
‘Did you ever think that’s a funny name for his caravan?’ said Rachel. ‘Pandora’s Box.’
‘It’s a name given to a box full of all sorts of knick-knacks,’ Róisín told her.
‘You mean, like mammy’s box of buttons and things?’
‘I suppose so.’
‘But where does it come from?’ asked Cowlick.
‘From mythology,’ said Tapser, to everyone’s surprise, and he went on to explain, ‘My father bought a book once, about mythology. He wanted to read about Diana the huntress. And I remember there was something in it about Pandora.’
‘That’s right,’ said Róisín. ‘I looked it up in my encyclopaedia. It’s a Greek story.’
‘You didn’t tell me that,’ said Rachel reproachfully.
‘Well I’m telling you now, amn’t I? It says the gods quarrelled, and one of them decided to send something down to men which would cause trouble. So he made a woman.’
‘Huh, the cheek of them,’ said Rachel, ‘suggesting that women are the ones that cause trouble!’
‘Go on,’ urged Cowlick impatiently. ‘What else did it say?’
‘She was called Pandora, which means all-gifted, for the gods and goddesses gave her gifts to bring with her – beauty, charm and the art of flattery. But one present was a special box which she was forbidden to open. Of course, curiosity got the better of her, and when she opened it a swarm of winged monsters flew out. They were disease, anger, revenge … all the curses that left men miserable.’
‘What did she do then?’ asked Tapser.
‘She tried to close the box, but it was too late. They had all escaped and flown over the world, and only Hope was left.’
‘Oh, I don’t like the sound of that,’ shuddered Rachel.
‘I wonder if it’s Peppi’s idea of a joke?’ said Tapser.
‘How do you mean?’ asked Cowlick.
‘Well, maybe his coach or caravan or whatever you call it has some dark secret, and by calling himself Pandora and Company he’s really telling everybody about it, knowing they won’t understand.’
‘A funny sort of joke,’ said Rachel. ‘But you could be right. He could be in the business of transporting poteen. Then his Pandora’s Box really would be full of curses, wouldn’t it? For people talk about the curse of drink, don’t they?’
‘Right,’ said Róisín, ‘that settles it. We’ve got to have a look inside his caravan. But where is he?’
They got up and wandered over to the window. Cowlick pushed himself up on the windowsill and looked in over the frosted part of the glass. ‘Peppi’s inside,’ he announced.
‘Then his caravan must be at the back,’ said Róisín. ‘Come on, now’s as good a time as any.’
In the yard they found that Peppi had unhitched his horse and given it a nosebag of food. The caravan was parked nearby.
‘You two stay here and keep an eye out for Peppi,’ whispered Róisín. ‘We’ll have a look inside the caravan. Come on, Rachel.’
‘Are you sure you don’t want us to do it?’ asked Tapser.
‘Sure,’ said Róisín, taking the torch from him. ‘Come on, Rachel.’ Seeing her hesitate, she added, ‘Don’t be silly, that story about Pandora was only something the Greeks made up. Hurry.’
Tapser and Cowlick watched from the back door of the inn as the girls climbed aboard. Rachel positioned herself at the driver’s seat to keep a lookout too, while Róisín made her way inside.
Closing the door behind her, Róisín switched on her torch. The section behind the driver’s seat, she could see, was Peppi’s living quarters. There was an iron stove, a bunk bed and a small chest of drawers. There was no sign of any bottles, but in one of the drawers she came across a tin box. In spite of her assurance to Rachel about the story of Pandora being made up, her hands trembled as she lifted the box, wondering what was in it. Gingerly she opened the lid a little bit, then a bit more, and when it was opened fully she found, not a swarm of little winged monsters, but something else that made her gasp in disbelief.
‘Rachel,’ she whispered, ‘look at this.’
Seeing Rachel scramble inside, Tapser and Cowlick rushed over to find out what was happening.
‘Look,’ said Róisín as they put their heads in around the door.
She was holding a card up to the light. It was headed: ‘Her Majesty’s Customs and Excise. Investigation Branch.’ And below that was a photograph of Peppi.
‘That means Peppi is a secret agent,’ exclaimed Tapser.
‘That’s right,’ said a voice behind them, and when Róisín shone the torch on the speaker they saw it was Peppi!
5. THE PHANTOM OF HUGH RUA
For a moment time seemed to stand still. Róisín switched off her torch and Peppi switched on his to see who the intruders were. None of them spoke. What could they say? They had been caught red-handed.
‘Come over here where I can have a better look at you,’ Peppi said, and he led them over to one of the lighted windows of the inn.
‘I’m sorry, Peppi,’ said Tapser, ‘this was all my idea.’
‘And mine,’ said Róisín.
‘We thought you were bringing poteen down from the mountains,’ said Cowlick.
‘Me? Smuggling poteen?’ laughed Peppi. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure no one else was around, and whispered, ‘So you’re on the track of the poteen smugglers too?’
‘Frankly, Peppi,’ Róisín said, ‘Rachel and I thought you were very suspicious.’
‘Suspicious? In what way?’
‘Well, it was your woollen gloves really,’ admitted Rachel. ‘We felt you were hiding something.’
‘Well now, hold it,’ said Peppi. ‘Before we go any further, we must make a deal.’
‘What sort of a deal?’ asked Cowlick.
‘You must promise not to give me away.’
‘We won’t blow your cover, really,’ Tapser assured him, anxious to make amends and using a phrase he had heard on television.
‘I’m glad,’ said Peppi. ‘Now, you say you’re looking for the smugglers. So am I. What do you say we join forces?’
Nothing could have pleased them better, and they heartily agreed.
‘All right then. But remember, secrecy is most important. You mustn’t discuss my activities with anyone. All right? Now, I can’t talk to you here. I’ve work to do and you wouldn’t know who might be listening. So I’ll tell you what. Tomorrow’s Sunday. I’ll call for you after dinner if you like, and you can come up the mountains with me. We can talk then.’
* * *
When the girls had gone to bed, Tapser and Cowlick sat up late talking.
‘This is a funny one, isn’t it?’ said Tapser.
‘How do you mean?’
‘Well, when we were investigating the Legend of the Golden Key last summer we knew it was something to do with treasure. You know, something solid. But this business is different.’
‘In what way?’
‘I just wonder sometimes if it’s all in our imagination. I mean, poteen makers and smugglers and phantom highwaymen. It’s like looking for the will-o’-the-wisp in the Cotton Bog back home.’
‘If it’s just our imagination,’ said Cowlick, ‘then Peppi and the police are in the same boat. And talking of boats, don’t forget what we saw at the Castle Spa. That needs some explaining.’
‘But if Max and his men are involved in smuggling poteen,’ said Tapser, ‘what’s that got to do with the phantom highwayman?’
‘I don’t know, except Peppi said that when Hugh Rua is seen on the High Road it’s a sure sign there’s a shipment on the way.’
‘But what is it that’s been seen on the High Road?’ Tapser wondered. ‘It can’t be a phantom. Unless, of course, the police are right and Sam Stephenson and Blind Jack have something to do with it.’
‘Why should they?’
Tapser shrugged. ‘Maybe they’re trying to get publicity for The Highwayman Inn. Remember, Mr Stephenson said they were thinking of taking the coach up as far as the memorial on daytrips. Maybe they’re even in league with the poteen smugglers.’
‘Why then would they draw attention to the fact that the poteen is on the way?’
‘I don’t suppose it could be Peppi doing it to raise the alarm or something?’
‘On that oul’ horse of his?’ laughed Cowlick. ‘You must be joking. I think it’s time you got some sleep.’
‘You can sleep if you like,’ said Tapser. ‘But I’m going to keep an eye on the High Road. If anything appears on it tonight, I want to see it.’
So saying, Tapser went over to the window and settled down for a long wait.
‘Well, I’m going to bed,’ said Cowlick, turning off the light. ‘If you see anything give me a shout.’
Peering out into the night, Tapser could see that a breeze had sprung up. It brought occasional clouds across the moon and moulded the rowan trees on the side of the glen into ever-changing shapes and shadows. Up on the rim of the glen, scraggy hawthorn bushes seemed to have turned their backs to the wind and sea. As the night wore on, he became tired and sleepy and sometimes he imagined that the clouds looked like faces, or horses, or that the bushes looked like flowing capes.
After what seemed like an eternity, the clock downstairs chimed four times. Tapser was still sitting at the window, trying to keep his eyes open and focused on the High Road, yet knowing he was fighting a losing battle. Suddenly he sat upright and shook his head to clear the sleep from his mind. It couldn’t be true, he told himself. He must be dreaming. But no, there it was! The unmistakeable outline of a horse and rider, galloping along the High Road, the rider’s cape billowing out behind him as he urged his horse on to greater speed.
Tapser rushed over to rouse Cowlick. ‘Quick. Quick.’
‘What’s the matter?’ mumbled Cowlick in his sleep.
‘It’s the phantom highwayman, up on the High Road. Come on.’
Cowlick swung his legs out and sat on the edge of the bed. He was groggy with sleep. ‘I’m coming,’ he said. His eyes were still closed and he put his head in his hands and yawned.
Tapser, however, was already on his way. Slipping out the back door, he paused for a moment with the idea of getting Prince. Nothing stirred, and afraid that he might wake the two sheepdogs, he hurried on up the back fields. Cowlick hadn’t appeared yet, but he knew he wouldn’t be far behind.
Strange as it may seem, Tapser wasn’t scared as he climbed the side of the glen by the light of the moon. Had he stopped to think about it, he would have been, but the truth was he was too excited. As he scrambled up through the bushes and scrub, there was only one thing in his mind, and that was to get to the High Road with all possible speed in the hope of catching a glimpse of Hugh Rua.
When he emerged up through the ravine onto the rim of the glen, the horse and rider were nowhere to be seen. He scanned the High Road towards the glistening sea and up to the dark mass of the mountains. It was deserted. The only sounds to disturb the stillness were the waves breaking in the distance and the panting of his own breath.
He looked around for the bronze memorial, but couldn’t find it. He looked back, expecting to see Cowlick any minute, and when there was no sign of him he walked along the road, ready at a moment’s notice to jump over the ditch if the phantom rider should appear again. Maybe it had just been his imagination, he thought. But no, he assured himself, he had seen it.
Pulling his jacket collar up around his neck, he kept walking until he came to a fork in the road. There he stopped and wondered if the rider had gone up left into the mountains, or right, down into the glen. Suddenly he heard voices and took cover behind the ditch. Now for the first time he wished Prince was with him. And where was Cowlick? He hoped he hadn’t gone back to sleep.
Cautiously he peered over the ditch. The voices were coming from the shadows on the road down to the glen. Stealing across the road he made his way down along the back of the ditch on the far side. The voices got louder, and he could now make out a lorry parked in off the road. The men were looking at one of the wheels, and he got the impression that it had a puncture. Finally, one of them gave the wheel a kick and they all walked off down the road.
‘The smugglers!’ said Tapser to himself, and when they had disappeared he climbe
d over the ditch and pulled himself up onto the punctured wheel. ‘Just as I thought,’ he said. ‘Bottles.’
Taking one, he hopped back down and unscrewed the cap. Then he put the bottle to his lips and tipped some of the liquid into his mouth. The minute he did so, he realised it was poteen, but this time he didn’t get a chance to spit it out. Voices told him the men were coming back and he got such a fright that he swallowed it. The poteen seemed to burn all the way down into his stomach. Suddenly he felt nauseous. He also felt dizzy. He managed to put back the bottle and held his forehead with his hand to steady himself. The men were coming closer. He had to get away.
Clutching his stomach, he staggered back up the road. Everything was swirling around before his eyes … the road, the ditches, the hills, the moon.
‘There he is!’ he heard a voice shout. He tried to run, but somehow the road seemed to get steeper and steeper and he didn’t have the strength to climb it. It was like a nightmare. Next moment, he felt a hand grabbing him by the shoulder and he knew he was caught.
It was then that the strangest thing of all happened.
As Tapser looked up, he saw the phantom highwayman above him, blunderbuss in hand. And from afar he seemed to hear a voice say, ‘Stand and deliver!’
‘Hugh Rua,’ he gasped sickly to himself.
‘Stand and deliver!’ he seemed to hear the phantom figure say again.
Tapser’s head was spinning. He felt an arm going around him, and a cool breeze on his face as he was carried through the night, holding on for dear life behind the phantom rider. The cape was flapping in his face and he reached up to brush it away but lost his grip and found himself falling, falling, falling …
‘Tapser,’ he heard a voice saying.
He looked up. Someone was bending over him, and a coat was brushing his face. He pushed it aside and saw the dark figures of the phantom highwayman and his horse rearing up into the night sky.
‘Tapser, are you all right? It’s Cowlick.’
Slowly Cowlick came into focus. Róisín and Rachel were there too.
‘Where am I?’ he asked.
‘At the memorial,’ Rachel told him.
He blinked and looked up at the statue of Hugh Rua and his horse. ‘Give me a hand,’ he said.
The Legend of the Phantom Highwayman Page 5
