Through Russian Snows: A Story of Napoleon's Retreat from Moscow

by G. A. Henty

  CHAPTER III

  IN A FRESH SCRAPE

  The first witness called by Mr. Faulkner was Captain Downes.

  "Will you tell us what you know about this affair?" the chairman said.

  "After having captured the smuggler, I took six men and went up to seeif I could be of any assistance to Mr. Moorsby, and also to hear whetherhe had been as successful with his capture as I had. I found thateverything was over, and that a fire had been lighted. I was talking toMr. Moorsby when my attention was excited by loud words between Mr.Faulkner and Mr. Wyatt, with whom I am acquainted. Mr. Faulkner struckhim in the face, and there was a scuffle, the prisoner lifting themagistrate, although a much heavier man, completely off his feet. In thecourse of the scuffle they approached the fire, and being afraid thatthey might fall into it, I ran up with Mr. Moorsby and some of the men,and pulled them away."

  "Did it seem to you, Captain Downes, that the prisoner was carrying Mr.Faulkner straight to the fire?"

  "He was certainly going straight in that direction, but whetherintentionally or not I am unable to say."

  "Do you think that if you and your men had not interfered they wouldhave fallen into the fire?"

  "I think they would certainly have done so."

  "Do you think that the prisoner intended to throw Mr. Faulkner into thefire?"

  "That I cannot say."

  "Have you any questions to ask the witness, Mr. Faulkner?" the chairmanasked.

  "You do not think it likely, I suppose, that the prisoner could haveintended himself to tumble into the fire?"

  "I should think it very unlikely."

  Mr. Faulkner sat down, and Mr. Probert rose.

  "You think it very unlikely, Captain Downes, that Mr. Wyatt woulddeliberately have walked into the fire, and I quite share your opinion;but it has not yet been proved that he was deliberately going towardsthe fire at all. You say he lifted Mr. Faulkner in his arms. Now itseems to me that, having done so, he would not be able to see at allwhich way he was going, as Mr. Wyatt's eyes would both be on a levelwith Mr. Faulkner's chest; moreover, it must be evident that, judgingfrom his present appearance, he could scarcely have seen anything atall, after receiving such a blow. Does it not strike you as being stillmore likely that, partially blinded as he was, and being unwilling tostrike the magistrate in return, however much the latter had forfeitedall claim to respect, he closed with him, and in the heat of passionlifted him up and carried him along at random?"

  "I think that very likely," the lieutenant replied.

  "Had you yourself been struck as the prisoner was struck, CaptainDownes, what course do you think it would have been proper for you topursue?"

  "I don't know what would have been proper, but I know what I should havedone. Magistrate or no magistrate, I should have knocked my assailantdown, or at any rate I should have tried to."

  "As a naval man, Captain Downes, you have had some experience of theconduct gentlemen generally observe to their prisoners. I presume thatit is not their custom to strike them, even if they did make a somewhatfree use of their tongues?"

  "Certainly not," Captain Downes said emphatically.

  "Would you go so far as to say that you would consider it to be adisgraceful and cowardly act?"

  "I should so consider it."

  There was again a murmur of applause in court, which was instantlyarrested when Mr. Probert held up his hand deprecatingly. "Thank you,Captain Downes," he went on. "Now we come to the question of the quarrelthat gave rise to this affair. Mr. Faulkner has not thought fit to askyou any questions about it. Were you standing close enough to hear whatpassed?"

  "I was standing close by, and both Mr. Faulkner and the prisoner spokeloudly enough to be heard at such a distance."

  "The magistrate first began the conversation?"

  "He did."

  "He used very strong language, did he not?"

  "Very strong."

  "Did you think that he was justified in using such strong language?"

  "Certainly not; I thought that it was most improper."

  "And do you think that a gentleman accosted so improperly is to begreatly blamed if he uses strong language in return?"

  "It would no doubt have been better if he had held his tongue at thetime, and have called him to account afterwards."

  "Still the provocation was very strong, Captain Downes, and you couldnot altogether blame him."

  "I did not blame him at all," the witness said curtly.

  "And what did you think when Mr. Faulkner suddenly struck his prisonerin the face?"

  "Am I to answer that question?" the witness asked the bench.

  "I do not think that it is an improper question," the chairman replied.

  "Very well, sir. Then, if I must say it, I thought it was one of themost blackguardly and cowardly things I ever saw done."

  "Thank you, Captain Downes. I do not think it necessary to ask you anyfurther questions."

  "Have you any more witnesses to call, Mr. Faulkner?" the chairman askedcoldly.

  Mr. Faulkner's face was white with rage. "I have a dozen otherwitnesses," he said hoarsely, "but I have no doubt they will all followthe lead their officer has set them. I shall therefore call no more."

  "I do not think, your worships," Mr. Probert said, rising, "that it isnecessary for me to address you. I would only submit to you that thereis not a shadow of evidence to support the charge of an attempt tomurder. As to the abusive language, I cannot say that my client's wordswere a retort courteous, but they were only a retort natural, and weresimply the consequence of the extraordinary conduct of Mr. Faulkner,acting at the time in his capacity of magistrate. As to the charge ofthreatening language, it is altogether absurd. My client simply assertedwhat is true by common report--that Mr. Faulkner had been threatened,and that it was possible that those threats might some day or other becarried into effect. I have only, therefore, to leave the case in thehands of your worships."

  The two magistrates put their heads together for a short time. Then thechairman said: "The bench is of opinion that the charge of attemptedmurder is altogether without foundation, and that of abusive languageand the use of threats should never have been brought, seeing that theywere the result of what we cannot but consider the very ill-judged andimproper conduct of the plaintiff. You are therefore discharged, Mr.Wyatt; but my colleague and myself cannot but again express a hope thatthis and the preceding charge may prove a lesson to you to avoid takingpart, even as a spectator, in such breeches of the law as those whichled to this very regrettable occurrence."

  As the magistrate concluded, a roar of applause rose in the court. Invain the constables shouted for silence. The chairman at once orderedthe room to be cleared, and at the same time motioned to Julian not toleave the court, as he was preparing to do. When the court was cleared,he called Julian up to him.

  "I think, Mr. Wyatt," he said, "it would be as well for you to remainhere for a time, and then go out by the back way. It would be veryunfortunate if any demonstration took place. Enough harm has been donealready; do not let us make it any worse."

  "Certainly not, sir. I am heartily sorry for what has occurred," andbeckoning to Frank, who was still seated at the solicitors' table, heretired with him to a waiting-room.

  "Thank goodness, Julian, you have got out of that scrape."

  "Thank goodness, indeed, Frank. I behaved like an awful fool, but Inever dreamt that anything like this would come of it. I have been tosee cargoes run several times. It was very good fun. I never helped inany way, and had always made up my mind that I would make myself scarceif the revenue people should turn up, but it all happened so suddenlythat I was a prisoner before I knew what was going on. As to the otheraffair, no doubt it would have been better for me to have said nothing,but of course I knew that he had no right to say what he did, and I hadnot the least idea that he would hit me; when he did, I went at him in afury, and I don't mind acknowledging that I did intend to chuck him inthe fire--not with any idea of killing him, you
know, though I did thinkhe would be burnt a bit."

  "It was lucky you sent for Probert, Julian; I had never thought of it."

  "No more did I, Frank. I was perfectly astonished when he got up andsaid that he appeared for me, but I supposed that Aunt or you had sentfor him."

  "I am sure Aunt didn't, or she would have told me."

  "I should not be surprised, Frank, if it were Captain Downes. In thefirst place, he was a friend of Father's, and in the next place, becausehe is heartily sick of Faulkner's constant interference and the way hegoes on. I expect that if Mr. Moorsby had got up he would have said justthe same things."

  "I will leave you here for a few minutes, Julian. I must run round andtell Aunt; she is in a fearful stew about you."

  Frank ran out at the main entrance. A number of fishermen were hangingabout outside. Bill came up to him:

  "Isn't Mr. Julian coming out, Master Frank?"

  "Not at present. The magistrates don't want any fuss in the streets, nomore does my brother, and he will stay there till every one has clearedoff, so the best thing you can do, Bill, is to persuade the others to gooff home. Julian knows well enough that you are all pleased that he hasgot off, but you see if there were a fuss got up about it in the streetsit would do him harm and not good."

  "All right, sir, I will get them off. They just wanted to give him acheer."

  "Well, they did that in Court, Bill, and you know that he appreciatestheir good intentions. Well, I must be off."

  Mrs. Troutbeck was still on the watch. However, she did not come to thedoor. Frank opened it, and ran into the parlour. His Aunt had droppedinto a chair, with her handkerchief to her eyes.

  "So he has not come back with you, Frank. It is dreadful. What are theygoing to do with him?"

  "They are not going to do anything, Aunt. He has been acquitted. Onlyhe did not come home with me because there are a lot of sailors waitingoutside to cheer him, and the magistrates did not want a row over him,nor did Julian either. I have just run home to tell you that it is allright, and now I am going back for him. I expect by the time I get therethey will all have gone, and we may be home in a quarter of an hour, soI think, Aunt, the best thing you can do is to get tea ready, for Idon't expect he has had much to eat there, or any appetite to eat it."

  It was good advice, for Mrs. Troutbeck was on the point of going intohysterics from joy and relief. However, the thought of the necessity forgetting a good meal to welcome Julian on his arrival turned her thoughtsinto another channel, and, wiping her eyes hastily, she rose and gavedirections, while Frank started again for the court-house. The fishermenhad left, but there were still a number of boys about the place. Theprivate entrance was, however, free from observers, and the brothersstarted at once, keeping to the back streets until they neared thehouse.

  "My dear Julian," Mrs. Troutbeck exclaimed as she threw her arms roundhis neck, "what a relief it is to have you back again. It has beenterrible for you."

  "It hasn't been very pleasant, Aunt," he replied cheerfully, "but it isall right now, and certainly I ought not to grumble. I have had betterluck than I deserved. I was a fool to go there, but I did not think thatthere was any real chance of the revenue people coming down upon us. Itwas thought they had been thrown off the scent altogether."

  "What a dreadful face you have got, Julian!"

  "Oh, that is nothing, Aunt; it will go off in a few days, and until ithas I must either stay indoors or keep out of the town altogether."

  "I am afraid tea won't be ready for a few minutes, Julian. You see Ihave had such a very short notice."

  "I can hold on comfortably, Aunt; besides, I have got to have a changeand a wash. That is of more importance than tea just at present."

  After the meal was over, Frank gave the details of the examination, thenarrative being very frequently stopped by exclamations and questions onthe part of Mrs. Troutbeck.

  "I have never heard of such a wicked thing. The idea of that mancharging you with attempting to murder him! Julian, he ought to bepunished for it."

  "I fancy he has been punished, Aunt. I don't see how he is to keep hiscommission as a justice after what was said in court. Still, it is a badthing for me. I was discharged, but it will always be against me. If Iever get into any sort of trouble again, people will say: 'Ah, yes; hewas charged with attempting murder when he was a young fellow, andalthough he was lucky enough to get off then, there must have beensomething in it. He is evidently a man of ungovernable temper.'"

  "But, my dear Julian, everyone knows that you have a very sweet temper."

  "I was not in a sweet temper then at any rate, Aunt."

  "Of course not, Julian. I should not have been so myself if anyone hadhit me such a terrible blow as that in the face."

  Her nephews both laughed, for they had never seen her ruffled out of herusual serenity.

  "Well, Aunt, don't let us talk any more about it," Julian said. "I wouldgive a good deal if it hadn't happened. As it is, one must make the bestof it, and I hope that it will be forgotten in time. I wish now that Ihad gone into the army, but it is too late for that. I shall think overwhat I had best take to. I should certainly like to get away from hereuntil it has blown over altogether."

  On the following morning Frank met Captain Downes, and learned that hewas right in his conjecture, and that it was he who had retained Mr.Probert's services in Julian's behalf before the magistrates.

  For the next few days Julian kept in the house, except that afternightfall he went out for a long walk. The report of the proceedings inthe court had caused a great sensation in Weymouth, and the feeling wasso strong against Mr. Faulkner that he was hooted in the streets when herode into the town. The general expectation was that he would resign hisposition on the bench; and when at the end of a week he did not do so, aprivate meeting of the other magistrates was held, and it was whisperedin the town that a report of the proceedings at the court had been sentto the Home Secretary, with an expression of opinion that Mr. Faulkner'sbrother magistrates felt that they could not sit again with him on thebench after what had taken place.

  Ten days after the affair Julian started early one morning for a day'srabbit-shooting at the house of a friend who lived some six miles up thevalley. Some snow fell in the course of the afternoon and put a stop toshooting, and he started to walk home. When he was within a few hundredyards of Mr. Faulkner's place he heard a horse coming along behind him.The snow that had fallen had deadened the sound of the hoofs on theroad, and, looking round, he saw Mr. Faulkner riding fast, at a distanceof but fifty yards away. Had he caught sight of him sooner Julian wouldhave left the road and entered the wood to avoid him, but it was toolate now, and he hoped that at any rate the man would pass on withoutspeaking. The horseman had apparently not recognized Julian until hecame abreast of him, when, with a sudden exclamation, he reined in hishorse.

  "MARK MY WORDS, YOU YOUNG SCOUNDREL, I WILL BE EVEN WITHYOU YET."]

  "So it is you, Julian Wyatt?" he said, in a tone of suppressed fury.

  "It is I, Mr. Faulkner," Julian replied quietly; "and as I don't wantto have anything to say to you, I think that you had better go on yourway without interfering with me."

  "Mark my words, you young scoundrel, I will be even with you yet."

  "The debt is not all on your side, Mr. Faulkner. I, too, have got a debtto pay; and perhaps some day we may square matters up, when you have notgot a score of coast-guardsmen at your back. However, I am content toleave matters as they are so long as you do the same. As to your owing adebt to me, it is yourself you have to thank for the trouble you havegot into; it was no doing of mine. However, I warn you that you hadbetter abstain from insulting me again. I did not strike you back whenyou hit me last time, but if you call me scoundrel again you shall seethat I can hit as hard as you can, and I will teach you to keep a civiltongue in your head."

  "You mark my words," Mr. Faulkner repeated. "I will have you watched,and I will hunt you down, and if I am not mistaken I will put a roperound your ne
ck one of these days." So saying, he struck spurs into hishorse and galloped on.

  Julian stood looking after him until he saw him turn in at his gate. Thedrive to the house led, as he knew, diagonally through the wood, and ashe walked forward he heard the horse's galloping hoofs grow louder andlouder. Suddenly there was the report of a gun some seventy or eightyyards away. It was mingled with that of a sudden cry, and Julian heardthe horse galloping on even faster than before. With an exclamation of"Good heavens! something has happened!" he broke through the hedge andran in the direction of the sound. As he approached it he thought thathe caught sight of a man running through the trees, but he kept straighton until he came upon the drive. Twenty yards away Mr. Faulkner laystretched on the ground. He went up to him, and stooped over him. Hiseyes were closed, and as he lay on his back Julian saw blood oozingthrough a bullet-hole in his coat high up on the left side of the chest.

  Feeling sure that Mr. Faulkner was dead he started up, and without amoment's hesitation ran into the wood again, in the direction where hehad thought that he had seen a figure. A minute later he came upon somefootprints on a bare spot between the trees, where the snow had fallenlightly. Noting the direction they took, he followed at once. He saw nomore signs of footprints, but followed the direction as nearly as hecould until he came to the farthest side of the wood; then he leaped outinto the field beyond, and followed the edge of the wood until he againreached the road. He then turned and went back again, and fifty yardsfrom the point where he had first run out he came upon the footprintsagain.

  "He was going to take to the hills, he muttered," as he set off alongthe track. He ran at a trot, and as he went, loaded both barrels of hisgun. "Very likely the villain will show fight," he said to himself; "Imust take him by surprise if I can."

  After a quarter of a mile's run he reached the foot of the hill, andnear its crest, three-quarters of a mile away, caught sight of thefigure of a man. A moment later he had passed over the crest. Julianstarted at full speed up the hill. There was no need to follow thefootprints now; indeed the strong wind that was blowing had swept thesnow into the hollows, and the face of the hill was bare. When hereached the top of the hill he had decreased his distance considerably.He saw to his surprise that the man was bearing to the right, a coursethat would ere long bring him to the edge of the cliff. The run up thehill had left him breathless, and for some time the man, who was alsorunning, fully maintained his lead. Then Julian began to gain upon him.The man had again changed his course, and was now going parallel withthe line of cliffs. Three miles from the point where he had reached thetop Julian was within a quarter of a mile of him. He would have caughthim before this, had he not been obliged at times to make detours so asto avoid passing high ground, where the man, if he looked back, wouldhave perceived him. By this time he was almost sure that the fugitivewas a poacher, who had been recently released from a term of two yearsin prison for poaching in Mr. Faulkner's preserves. At last he saw himturn sharp to the right again. "Where on earth is he going?" Julian saidto himself. "The cliffs are not many hundred yards away."

  Hitherto he had supposed that the man was keeping away from the cliff toavoid meeting any of the coast-guards who would be on duty there, butthis change of direction puzzled him completely. Keeping his eye on thepoacher, he saw him enter a small clump of bushes, from which he did notemerge. Julian at once slackened his pace down to a walk. It was likelyenough that the man had noticed that he was being pursued, and haddetermined to rid himself of the pursuer. It was not a pleasant idea,that the fellow might now be kneeling among the bushes with his gun athis shoulder.

  "It could hardly be that either," he said to himself, "for if heintended to shoot me he would have turned the other way; for the soundof his gun would be probably heard by some of the coast-guard, and theycould not fail to see him running away. At any rate," he muttered, "I amnot going to turn back after such a chase as I have had."

  Standing still and looking at the spot, he saw that the clump of bushesgrew in a slight hollow, and that by turning to the right he would beable to approach within twenty or thirty yards of it without exposinghimself to view. This he did, and in a short time lost sight of thebushes. Moving with great caution, he made his way towards them, andwhen he approached the slope into the hollow, lay down and crawledalong, keeping his gun in front of him. As he neared the spot he laydown on his stomach in the short turf and wound himself along until hecould see down into the bushes. With his gun at his shoulder, and hisfinger on the trigger, he gazed down into the hollow. To his surprise hecould see no signs of the fugitive. The leafless boughs afforded butslight shelter, and after gazing fixedly at them for two or threeminutes, he became convinced that the man was no longer there. As soonas he came to this conclusion he stood up and looked over thesurrounding country. It was bleak and bare, and entirely destitute ofhedges or any other shelter.

  It was but for five or six minutes at the utmost that he had lost sightof the bushes, and in that time the man could not have got far. "Whereon earth has he hidden himself?" Julian muttered.

  He went down to the clump of bushes, still holding his gun in readinessfor instant use. The patch was but some thirty feet long by half aswide. He walked backwards and forwards among the low bushes, but thefugitive was certainly not there. Going to the end of the patch he couldsee plainly enough the track where the man had entered, for althoughthere was little snow on the top of the ground it lay among the tufts ofgrass. He walked round the clump, but there were no signs of anyfootsteps leaving it. "This is the rummest thing I ever saw," hemuttered; "the fellow can't have flown away; yet, he certainly has notwalked off."

  Thinking it over, an idea suddenly occurred to him. When sailing alongthe coast with Bill, the latter had one day pointed out to him a hole inthe cliff some twenty feet above high-water mark. "Do you see that hole,Mr. Julian?"

  "Yes, I see it plain enough. What of it?"

  "Well, sir, if I owned all the goods that have been taken into that holeon dark still nights I should be a rich man."

  "Do you mean to say that they run cargoes there, Bill?"

  "Not kegs--they are too heavy and too awkward to get away--but laces,and silks, and such like. Many a lugger when she comes from abroad landsall them sorts of things here, and then sails away and takes her chanceof running the rest of the cargo somewhere else."

  "But how can anyone get up there? I see nothing like a path."

  "There ain't no path, sir. The revenue men would have found it out longago if there had been. The boat comes along, as I said, of a dark night,when there is no swell on, and the chaps inside show a tiny light toguide them to the spot. When the boat comes, they lower a rope down andhaul the bales up; and then the boat goes back to the lugger, and sheups sail, and no one is the wiser."

  "But what do they do with the stuff? I don't mean, where do they stowit, but how do they get it away?"

  "There is a passage somewhere," Bill replied. "I don't know where itgoes out. I reckon there ain't half a dozen men in Weymouth who do know.I should say, except the men whose business it is to take the goodsinland and forward them to London, there is only one chap who is in thesecret; and he is not in Weymouth now--he is in jail. That is JoeMarkham. He is in for poaching. But for a good many years he sailed inone of those French luggers. Then, as I have heard, he was keeper of thecave for a bit; but he had to give it up--he was too well known to thecoast-guard, and they kept too sharp an eye on him for him to venture togo out. He had had enough of the sea, and no doubt he had got some moneylaid by; anyhow, he took a cottage by the river, and took to poaching,more for devilment, I should say, than because he wanted the money. Iexpect he was well paid by the smugglers, for he used to get up half thestories to put them off the scent, and never missed being present when arun was made."

  This conversation came back to Julian's memory, as he stood by the clumpof bushes wondering what had become of the man that he had pursued, andit flashed upon him that the spot where he was standing could not be farfrom
the smugglers' cavern, and that the entrance to this might verywell be among these bushes. The man knew where that entrance was, andnothing was more likely than that he should make for it as a place ofconcealment until an opportunity occurred to get on board a lugger andcross the channel. It was a very likely place; men could come and go atnight without risk of being seen or heard by any of the coast-guardsmenon the cliff, and would not be likely to encounter anyone within two orthree miles of it. Years might pass without anyone happening to enterthe bushes.

  Laying down his gun, Julian began to search in earnest. It was half anhour before, feeling about in the coarse grass, he came upon a handle.He pulled at it, gently at first, then as it did not yield, he exertedhis strength, and it gave way, and a section of the rough herbage rose,while three feet away it sank in the same proportion. Raising it higher,he saw that the trap-door--for such it was--was two feet wide by aboutfive feet long and eighteen inches deep; it was, in fact, a deep traypivoted on the centre and filled with earth, on which grass grew asfreely as in the ground adjoining.

  The greater portion of the trap was overhung by bushes, which grew sothickly around the part which sank that the probability was small indeedthat anyone would tread upon it. Julian saw, too, that under the handlewas a bolt that, when fastened, would hold the trap firmly down. Nodoubt the man in his haste had forgotten to fasten it before hedescended. Looking down, Julian saw a circular hole like a well,evidently artificially made in the chalk; a ladder was fastened againstone side.

  JULIAN FINDS HIMSELF A PRISONER AMONG THE SMUGGLERS.]

  Julian hesitated. Should he return to Weymouth, inform the authoritiesthat he had traced the murderer of Mr. Faulkner to a place ofconcealment, and bring them there to arrest him, or should he go downand encounter him single-handed? Although of a fearless disposition, hewould have decided on the more prudent course had it not been that tohave done so, would have let the authorities into the knowledge of thesmugglers' cave. Although he had determined to have nothing more to dowith them, this he felt would be an act of treachery, for it was onlybecause he had been believed by Bill to be absolutely trustworthy, thatthe latter had told him of the existence of this cavern and of thesecret exit, and without that information he would never have searchedfor and discovered the trap-door. Then, too, the thought that the credithe would gain by the capture of the murderer single-handed would go farto efface the memory of the disgrace that had befallen him, helped todecide him.

  He fetched his gun and slung it over his shoulder, got upon the ladder,and pulled the trap-door down behind him. As he did so he found that itmoved easily, and that he could push it up again without any difficulty,and feeling the bolt, discovered that it had been partially shot, butnot sufficiently to catch fairly, although containing so far a hold ofthe frame, that it had torn a groove in the somewhat rotten wood withthe force that he had used to raise it. He went down the ladder verycautiously, until, after descending for some thirty steps, his footencountered solid ground. After a moment's consideration he knelt downand proceeded on his hands and knees. Almost immediately he felt theground slope away in front of him. He got on to his feet again. Holdingout his arms he found that the passage was about four feet wide, and hebegan to descend with extreme care, feeling his way along both walls. Hehad gone, he thought, about fifty yards when the passage made a sharpturn, still descending, and at a considerable distance ahead the lightstreamed in through a rugged hole. He walked more confidently now, andsoon the light was sufficient to enable him to see the path he wasfollowing.

  On arriving at the aperture, he saw that, as he expected, he was lookingover the sea. On one side of the hole there was a shelf cut in thechalk. This was stained as if by oil, and he guessed at once that it wasa look-out and a spot for signalling a craft in the offing. The pathhere turned again and ran parallel with the face of the cliff. There wasno occasion to exercise care in walking now, as here and there the lightstreamed in through openings a few inches long. He now unslung his gun,stooped and took off his boots, and then proceeded noiselessly. Thedescent was considerable, and in some places steps had been cut. At lasthe arrived at a door. It was roughly but very solidly made, and woulddoubtless sustain an attack for some time before it yielded, and sowould give time to the occupants, in case the trap-door was discovered,to make their escape by the lower entrance on to the beach. There was alatch to it. Lifting this quietly, he found the door yielded, and,holding his gun in his right hand ready to cover the fugitive the momenthe entered, Julian threw the door wide open and sprang forward.

  He had not calculated on a further descent, but the floor of the cavewas five feet below him, and he fell heavily upon it, the gun going offas it struck the floor. Instantaneous as the fall had been, his eyes hadtaken in the scene. Several lanterns faintly lit up the cave; while inthe centre a table, at which several figures were sitting, wasilluminated by three or four candles. He was partly stunned by theheaviness of his fall, but vaguely heard shouts of surprise and alarm,and was, a minute later, roughly seized and dragged along. Then he feltthat he was being tightly bound. For some minutes he was left tohimself, but he could see three men with guns in their hands standingnear the door by which he had entered, listening attentively. Presentlyhe heard steps coming down the passage and two other men came throughthe door, shut and bolted it carefully, and then came down the stepsinto the cabin.

  They spoke to their comrades as they came in, and the news was evidentlysatisfactory, for the men leaned their guns against the wall and came tothe table. There was some talk for a few minutes, and then Julian wasraised and placed in a sitting position on the head of a cask by thetable. One of the men then addressed him in French. Julian, who by thistime had recovered from the effects of his fall, shook his head. Theother then spoke to the poacher, who had seated himself opposite Julian,and the latter then said:

  "You are the young fellow who was tried in court three weeks ago, areyou not?"

  "Yes, I am."

  "I thought so; I was there. It was the very day I got to Weymouth. Well,what the deuce are you doing here? You are the chap who has followed meall the way up the hill?"

  Julian nodded.

  "What did you follow me for?"

  "Because I was in the road when you shot Faulkner. I heard the gun, andran in and found him dead. I caught sight of you in the wood, and wentin chase of you."

  "What did you intend to do, you young fool?"

  "I intended to capture you," Julian said fearlessly.

  "What for? I have done you a good service as well as myself. You had noreason to bear him any good-will, and some of the men who were theretold me that though Downes got you off, it was true that you were goingto throw Faulkner into the fire."

  "So I was; but he had just struck me and I was in a furious passion; butthat was a different thing altogether to shooting a man in cold blood."

  "He got me two years' imprisonment," the man said, "which to my mind wasa good reason for shooting him when I got the chance; and another thingwas he would never leave us alone, but was always on our heels. Thereare two or three men in prison now that he got sent there, and eightmore are waiting their trial. He made war on us, and I have turned thetables on him.

  "I heard that you had been at several of the runs, and of course you arein with some of our fellows. How did you get to know about the entranceto this place?"

  "I only knew that there was a cave here, that it was used by thesmugglers, and that it had an entrance somewhere. The man who told meknew well that I was to be trusted, but it was only because youdisappeared among those bushes, and that there were no footprints toshow that you had left them, that it appeared to me that the passagemight be there, and so I looked about until I found the handle to thetrap-door."

  "Why didn't you go and call the coast-guard? There was a station not aquarter of a mile away."

  "Because I could not have done that without betraying the secret of thecavern. I found the entrance myself, but I should never have done so, ifI had not been told ab
out the cave and the secret passage, and I feltthat it would be an act of treachery to betray it."

  "And you were really fool enough to think that if you captured mesingle-handed I should walk with you like a lamb to the gallows?"

  "I didn't intend to give you a chance of making a fight. I intended torush straight in and covered you with my gun."

  "Well, you have plenty of pluck, young fellow, if you haven't muchwisdom; but if you think that after getting in here, I shall let you goout again to bring the constables down on me you are mistakenaltogether."