THE SMUGGLER'S WIFE--HANSON STARTS ON HIS TRIP--HIS WIFE'S ANXIETY--THE
REVENUE OFFICERS APPROACH--THE SMUGGLERS TAKE TO THE WATER--THE FIGHT--A
FEARFUL END.
"Good-bye, Susan--good-bye, my wife. I'll bring thee over a silk gown,
and such Brussels lace as you've never yet set eyes on. It will make a
lady of you; and you're not far off being one now, to my mind, so don't
fret--don't fret, Susan, dear."
These words were uttered by Robert Hanson, a fine sailor-like-looking
man. And a bold seaman he was, indeed; but was also unhappily known to
be one of the most daring smugglers on the coast. Having kissed his
wife affectionately, and knelt down by the side of the cradle in which
their infant slept, to bestow another kiss on its smiling lips, he
hurried from the cottage.
Susan looked after him sorrowfully. She had entreated him, over and
over again--not as earnestly as she might, perhaps--to give up his
dangerous and lawless occupation, and with a laugh he had told her that
each trip should be his last. Did it never occur to him how his promise
might be fulfilled? It did to Susan; and often and often she had
trembled at the thought. She had been brought up by praying parents,
and had been taught from her childhood to pray, but she could not pray
now--she dared not--she felt it would be a mockery. She was wrong,
though. She could not pray that God would protect her husband in his
lawless occupation, but she might have prayed that her merciful Father
in heaven would change his heart--would lead him from the paths of sin,
and put a right spirit within him, even although he might be brought to
poverty, and she might no longer enjoy the luxuries which he allowed
her. She was sure, however, that he could make, by a lawful calling,
enough for all their wants; whereas a large portion of what he now
gained was spent in feasting and treating with open hand his smuggling
companions; so at the end of the year, except for the dresses and other
articles which were utterly useless to Susan, they were very little the
better for all his toil and the many fearful risks he had run. She
stood watching him with tearful eyes and a foreboding heart, as he
descended the cliff on which their cottage stood.
Bob, as Hanson was called by his companions, looked in at three or four
of the huts which formed the fishing village at the foot of the cliff,
and gave sundry directions to their inmates. The answer he received
from all of them was much the same: "Never fear, captain, we'll be
ready."
"You understand, Dore," he said, stopping at one of the huts for some
little time, "you'll be on the look-out for us on Tuesday night at
Durlstone Point. Now mind you also tell Green, the landlord of the
`Jolly Tar,' to have the two covered carts there, with his fastest
horses and trusty men to drive--Bill Snow and Tom Thatcher--they are
true men; but not that fellow Dennis--he'll bring the Coast Guard down
on us one of these days, you'll see, if we trust him--and take care that
we've no lack of hands to run the cargo up the cliff."
Such were some of the directions Hanson gave to his confederates. He
then, with active steps, proceeded to a small harbour at a little
distance along the shore, where a fast-looking cutter of about forty
tons lay at anchor. He hailed her. A preventive man (as the revenue
officers are called), with his spyglass under his arm, passed him.
"What, Bob, off again?" he said, in a careless tone; "we'll be on the
look-out for you, if you'll tell us when you are coming back."
"May be next week, or the week after, or a month from this; but thank
you all the same," answered Bob, laughing, as he stepped into the punt
which came for him. As soon as he was on board, the _Saucy Sue_ made
sail for the French shore, and, under a crowd of canvas, was soon out of
sight.
It was soon known at each preventive station along the coast that Bob
Hanson was away in the _Saucy Sue_, and might ere long be expected back
with a cargo of contraband. A sharp look-out was accordingly kept for
him. Often and often before this, however, he had been expected, but
the goods had been run, notwithstanding, and the _Saucy Sue_ having
appeared in the offing, had come into the harbour without an article of
contraband on board, Bob and his crew looking innocent as lambs.
Tuesday came. Susan knew that on that night the attempt to run the
cargo was to be made. There was no moon. The sun set red and lowering
over Durlstone Point, and dark clouds were seen chasing each other
rapidly across the sky, rising from a dark bank which rested on the
western horizon, while white-crested seas began to rise up out of the
sombre green ocean, every instant increasing in number. The wind
whistled mournfully among the bushes and the few stunted trees, with
tops bending inland, which fringed the cliffs, and the murmur of the
waves on the beach below changed ere long into a ceaseless roar.
Susan sat in her cottage, watching the last rays of the setting sun as
her foot rocked her baby's cradle. She knew well the path to Durlstone
Point along the cliffs. No longer able to restrain her anxiety (why
more excited than usual on that evening, she could not have told), she
left her child in charge of her young sister, who had come in to see
her, and hurried out. The clouds came up thicker and thicker from the
south-west, and the darkness rapidly increased. She had good reason to
dread falling over the cliff. Several times she contemplated turning
back; but the thought of her husband's danger urged her on. "If I could
find the spotsman, Ned Dore, I would beseech him to warn the cutter
off," she said to herself; "it can never be done on a night like this."
She went on till she came to a dip, or gulley, when a break in the cliff
occurred. A steep path led down the centre to the beach. She heard the
sound of wheels, with the stamp of horses' feet, as if the animals had
started forward impatiently and been checked, and there was also the
murmur of several voices. Suddenly a light flashed close to her.
"Oh, Ned Dore, is that you?" she exclaimed. "Don't let them land
to-night; there'll be harm come of it."
"No fear, Mrs Hanson," said Dore, recognising her voice. "All's
right--the cutter has made her signal, and I have answered it. Couldn't
have a better time. The revenue men are all on the wrong scent, and
we'll have every cask a dozen miles from this before they are back.
Just you go home, good woman, and your husband will be there before
long."
Susan, however, had no intention of leaving the spot. Again she
entreated Dore, almost with tears, to warn off the cutter, alleging that
there was already too much surf on the beach to allow the boats to land
with safety. Dore almost angrily again refused, declaring that the
cutter had already begun to unload, and that the boats would soon be in.
Seeing that her entreaties were useless, she sat herself down on a rock
jutting out of the cliff, and tried to peer into the darkness. She
waited for some time, when footsteps were heard, and one of the men
posted to watch, came running in with the information that a party of
the revenue were approaching. Dore, coming up to her, pulled her by
force below the rock on which she had been sitting. The other men
concealed themselves under the bushes--among other rocks and in holes in
the cliff--the lights were extinguished, and the carts were heard moving
rapidly away. Not a word was spoken--the men held in their breath as
the revenue officers approached. Poor Susan almost fainted with dread--
not for herself, but for her husband. Where was he all the time? She
knew too well the smugglers' mode of proceeding not to have good cause
for fear.
"It was off here, sir, I saw the light flash," Susan heard one of the
men say. "There is a road a little further up, and the cart wheels we
heard must have passed along it."
"It is a likely spot, and must be watched."
Susan recognised the voice of the last speaker as that of Mr Belland,
the new lieutenant of the Coast Guard, reputed to be an active officer.
"Do you, Simpson and Jones, station yourselves on the top of the cliff,
and fire your pistols if you see anything suspicious," he said. "Wait
an hour, and then move back to your beats--there will be sea enough on
by that time to save us further trouble."
"Ay, ay, sir," was the brief answer.
The two preventive men took up their stations, one of them directly
above where Susan was crouching down, and the lieutenant and his party
moved on.
While these events were taking place on shore, the _Saucy Sue_ had
approached the coast. Her usual signal was made and answered in a
satisfactory manner, and preparations for landing the cargo were
forthwith commenced. There were among it silks and other valuable
articles, carefully packed in water-tight casks. The rest consisted of
spirits in casks, two of which a man could carry on his shoulders. The
casks were now secured together by ropes in separate parcels, eighteen
or two dozen in each, and lowered overboard. The cutter's two boats
then took them in tow, and approached the beach. As they drew near, a
small light, shown for an instant, warned them that the preventive men
were on the alert. A weight sufficient to moor each parcel was on this
dropped overboard, and the boats hung on to them.
"We must try the old dodge," said Hanson, after waiting for some time.
"I'll take three parcels--Tom and Bill, you take the rest; we've never
missed that way."
Saying this, he threw off his outer clothing, the two men he spoke to
did the same, and all three slipping overboard, took hold of the
tow-lines attached to the casks. The boats returned to the cutter, and
were hoisted on board; after which, letting draw her fore-sheet, she
stood out at sea. Hanson and his daring companions, buoyed up with a
few corks under their arms, and knives in their hands to cut the casks
from the moorings, remained with their heads just above the water,
watching for the signal to tow them in. There they remained, their
eager eyes turned towards the cliff--the dark sky above them, the
foaming waters around. Every instant their position became more
perilous; for as the tide rose, the ledge of rocks to the westward no
longer afforded them the protection it had done at first, and the seas
came rolling in, and the surf broke more and more heavily every instant.
Could they pray for help? No. They knew well that they were engaged in
unlawful work--that they were breaking the laws of their country--
refusing to render to Caesar the things that were Caesar's. Such was
the picture the poor wife beheld in her mind's eye, as she gazed down
into the dark waters, where she well knew that her husband then was.
Slowly the anxious hour passed away. The preventive men, however, still
seemed suspicious that all was not right, and lingered at their posts.
They at last hailed each other, and held a conversation in a low tone.
They were close to where two of the men lay hid. Susan, in addition to
her other cause of alarm, dreaded that an act of violence would be
committed, if they did not move off. The preventive men would fire
their pistols, certainly; but there still might be time for the tubs to
be landed, and the smugglers to make their escape, before the rest of
the Coast Guard could reach the spot. Her alarm increased when she
found that Dore had crept away.
What she dreaded happened. The two preventive men came down into the
hollow, as if about to descend to the beach. Suddenly they were set
upon by a dozen men. One fired his pistol, the other was knocked down
before he could draw a weapon from his belt. The first fought
desperately, but a blow from a hanger brought him to the ground, where
he lay mortally wounded. The arms of the other were pinioned, his mouth
gagged, and the smugglers rushed down to the beach.
The signal was now made to Hanson and his companions. The smugglers
waited to allow time for them to come in, every instant dreading the
return of the Coast Guard. At length a cry was heard, "Help, help!"
Several of the most daring rushed into the water. First one of Hanson's
companions was dragged on shore, almost exhausted. The tubs were drawn
in, and rapidly carried up the cliff. The second man was next found;
but he had abandoned his tubs, and was more dead than alive. But where
was Hanson himself?
Susan had found her way down to the beach. No one noticed her.
"I'm afraid the captain is gone. It was his plan, but a desperately
dangerous one," she heard one of the men say. She stood speechless with
terror.
Just then a light flashed from the cliff above.
"Each man for himself," was the cry, as the smugglers made their escape
up the only path open to them.
She stood alone on the sand, with the seas roaring up to her feet. She
heard footsteps approaching. "Oh! where--where is my husband?" she
cried out.
"I don't know, missus; but murder has been committed, and some one has
done it." It was one of the preventive men spoke.
Daylight at length broke. A tangled mass of tubs and rope, and a human
form attached to them, was seen surging up and down in the foaming
breakers. It was dragged on shore, and the poor young widow sank
senseless on her husband's body.