CHAPTER XXXV

SKIRTING THE BREAKERS

As the party filed out of the low dungeon door, each of them of

necessity stepped over the prostrate body of Misfortunate Colin. The

fates that sport with destiny had offered him up a sacrifice to the

wrath of his chief, in order that luckier men might go scatheless.

"It micht just as weel hae been Alister, my man!" said Bess; "for he

will be as drunk as the lave, or maybe a kennin waur! But then Alister

has been a fortunate man a' his days--no' like that puir tyke there

that never supped meal porridge but he choked himsel' wi' the spoon!"

It was a night clear and infinite with stars when the four--Kate,

Wat, Scarlett, and Bess--took up each their share of the arms and

provisions, which the last-named had provided in the shelter of

the dike. The air was still. There was no sound save the ceaseless

soughing whisper of the mighty salt river as it rushed northward past

the isle--the strange pervading sound of the Suck gurgling afar like

the boiling of a pot. Only at intervals and from a distance came the

shouting of choruses and the loud "_Hooch!_" of some reveller yet in

the active stages of drinking long life and prosperity to the returned

chieftain.

As soon as they had passed the ridge and left the village behind them,

Wat paused for a consultation.

"'Tis little use," he said, "to think of making a raft at this time

of night. Yet certain it is that we must be clear of the isle by the

morning--that is, if one of us is to remain alive."

"I for ane am gaun to bide on Suliscanna!" said Mistress McAlister.

"There is but one way that I can think of," continued Wat, not heeding

her; "there are two boats at the landing-place. I saw the men unloading

them when I landed to-night. Now we could not take the larger of these

into the tide-race, but if the tide be favorable we might seize the

smaller and pilot it through the sea-cavern, by which I came hither, to

my hiding-place on the isle of Fiara."

Jack Scarlett nodded silent assent as he listened to Wat's suggestion.

The night-air had restored all his confidence, and he felt ready for

anything. So on the darksome ridge overlooking the landing-place the

two women were left to consume their souls with impatience, while Wat

and Scarlett, with their daggers in their hands, stole stealthily down

to effect their desperate capture.

The boats lay together on the inner side of a little stone breakwater.

They were not drawn up on the beach, but secured stem and stern with

ropes, and floated in the gentle undulation of the tide. Wat and

Scarlett strained their eyes into the darkness for a sight of any

watch. But spite of the stars, the night was too impenetrable for them

to distinguish the presence of any human being on board.

Wat dropped into the water, having left his powder and shot, together

with the pistols, in the care of Scarlett. He swam a few strokes out to

the boat and listened. In the larger he could clearly distinguish the

breathing of two men. The other appeared to be entirely empty. Promptly

Wat cut the cord which secured the stem, and let that boat fall away

and swing round with her head towards the shore. Then beckoning

Scarlett, whose figure he could discern black against the sand of the

beach, Wat stepped on board. Scarcely was he over the side when his

foot trod on the soft body of a man. Wat was on him in a moment and had

the fellow by the throat. But the helpless gurgle of his respiration,

and the pervading smell of Hollands which disentangled itself from

every part of his person, convinced Wat that he had nothing to fear

from the crew of this boat.

There remained the other and larger, which was anchored farther out

in the water of the little harbor. Cautiously Wat lifted the small

double-pronged anchor, which still held their first prize. Scarlet

waded in and was helped over the side. The tide swept them slowly round

towards the larger vessel in which Wat had heard the breathing of men.

Presently their boat went groaning and wheezing against the side-planks

of her companion. Wat promptly and silently secured his position with

the five-pronged boat-anchor which he had kept beside him for the

purpose.

Scarlett and he were on board in a moment, and Wat found himself in

the heat of a combat with a man who struck at him with a bar of iron

as he came over the side. But the striker's companion did not move to

his assistance, and with Wat's hand at his throat and Scarlett's knee

on his breast, resistance was very brief indeed. A lantern was burning

inside a small coil of ropes. This Wat folded in the cloak with which

the sleepy-headed watch had been covering themselves in the bottom of

the boat, and let a ray of its light fall on the faces of his captives.

Both were known to him. They were the Calf and the Killer, the two

inevitable scoundrels of Haxo the Bull's retinue.

"What shall we do with these fellows?" said Wat, looking up,

disgustedly.

"Sink them with the boat," said Scarlett, promptly.

Wat shook his head. They lay so still and they looked so helpless--even

the Killer, who had struck at Wat, was now resting his head on the

thwart in perfect unconsciousness.

"We must get the drunken scoundrels ashore somehow," said Wat.

"We will tie them together with the rope, turn them over the side,

and haul them ashore with the slack," said Scarlett; "and if it

chance to break, why, so much the better." Without another word the

master-at-arms set to work, packing the Calf and the Killer together as

if they had been a couple of trussed chickens, exploring their pockets

for plunder as he did so.

"Let the poor rascals' wallets alone, Jack!" cried Wat, indignantly.

"Nay, lad," quoth Scarlett, with imperturbable philosophy, possessing

himself as he spoke of a clasp-knife and a flagon of strong waters,

"the art of forage and requisition from the enemy is of the very

essence of war, as the great Condé used often to say."

Presently Scarlett paid out the spare rope to Wat, who took it ashore

with him. The bodies dropped without a splash into the water, and Wat,

aided by the current, soon brought them to land and hauled them out of

the water on to the pebbles. Then came Scarlett with a couple of balls

of tow for plugging seams, which he thrust with gusto into their mouths.

"That will keep things safe," he said. "I trust neither of these good

gentlemen is afflicted with a cold in his head, or else he might be

liable to choke, and so find himself in warmer and drier quarters at

his awaking!"

But the Calf and the Killer lay like brothers in each other's arms,

breathing gently and equably.

There remained but the man on the first and smaller boat. Wat climbed

back to him. He had not stirred. Then Lochinvar let a single ray of the

Killer's lantern fall on his face. He whistled softly at what he saw,

and beckoned Scarlett. It was none other than Wise Jan Pettigrew who

lay there, overcome by the potency of the spirits supplied by the Chief

of Suliscanna.

Wat now went back to the women. He found them where they had been left,

and Kate hurried forward.

"You are not hurt, Wat?" she said, anxiously, taking him by the hand,

"nor Scarlett?"

"No," said Wat; "but we must hasten to the boats. We have taken them

both safely."

So the two women accompanied him down to the harbor. Scarlett had

meanwhile been getting all the useful cargo out of the larger boat, and

by this time he had it piled up promiscuously about the unconscious

body of Wise Jan.

Before Kate went aboard the elder woman clung to her and kissed her in

the darkness.

"My lassie, are ye feared?"

"Feared?" said Kate, "why should I be afraid; am I not all his? I would

not be feared to go to the world's end with him."

Bess Landsborough sighed as if that did not greatly improve the case,

but she only said: "God keep you, my lassie, and let me see you soon

again. I declare ye hae grown to be the very light o' my e'en ever

since I took ye first to my arms in the cabin o' the _Sea Unicorn_."

It was the plan of Wat and Scarlett to take both boats as far out to

sea as possible, to scuttle one there, and then to make trial of the

dangerous passage of the sea-cave with the smaller and more easily

handled vessel.

The tide was now on the strong ebb, and there was a smart swirl of

current setting through the narrow entrance of the harbor. Wat cut the

rope of the larger boat which alone secured her to the shore.

"God in heaven bless you, good friend of ours!" said Wat, stooping to

kiss the rough brave woman who had so loyally helped them, "till we can

all be happy together in our own country."

"Na," she said, "fare ye weel forever; I hae to bide by Alister, my

man. I shall see your faces nae mair. O, my bairn, my bairn!"

And the heartsome, snell--tongued, tender woman turned away with the

tears falling fast upon the bosom of her gown.

Wat pushed off in the smaller boat, with the larger towing behind, and,

being empty, standing much higher out of the water. The current caught

them. The next moment the hiss of the ebb under their counter sank to

silence. The talking sound of the ripples along their sides ceased. The

boats were going out with the tide, and Wat had nothing to do but sit

and guide them.

It was wonderful how clear it was outside, even a short distance away

from the loom of the land. They kept close in to the shore, and at

first the ebb seemed to favor them, for they made way rapidly, drifting

towards the mouth of the goë by which they must enter the water-cavern,

and attempt that dangerous passage through to the isle of Fiara.

By keeping close in shore they found themselves in a sort of canal of

deep water, at least fifty feet across, beyond which the tide and the

underlying rocks strove together on the edge of the Suck, throwing up

short foam-crested waves as on a sand-bar.

Wat was now about to attempt a dangerous feat. It was manifestly

impossible that they could tow the larger boat through the narrows of

the goë. And yet to leave it on the beach was simply to put facilities

for pursuit into the hands of men inflamed to the highest degree by the

thought of revenge and the anger of their chief, as well as perfectly

acquainted with every state of the tide and at home in the swirl of the

multitudinous currents.

[Illustration: "WAT PUSHED OFF IN THE SMALLER BOAT"]

Wat had resolved to destroy the larger boat on the edge of the

tide-race, so that even if she did not sink at once she would be

carried far past the island of Suliscanna. He therefore put the

skiff in which he and Scarlett were rowing boldly in the direction of

the broken water of the tide-race. He well knew the danger, yet for the

sake of their future safety on Fiara he resolved to risk it.

The tide fairly thundered as it tore northward, and when they drew near

to it time and again Scarlett glanced apprehensively over his shoulder.

A thin, misty drizzle of spray as from a water-fall began to fall on

their faces. Right ahead of them appeared the foam-flecked back of the

Suck, like a river in spate rushing out into the smooth waters of a

lake. They could see the breakers ahead of them flashing palely white

in the starlight, and hear the bullers crying aloud to each other along

the shore.

Suddenly Wat stopped rowing.

"Back water, Jack!" he cried. "I am going into the big boat astern

to scuttle her. Hand me the mallet. I must loosen that Portsmouth

sea-lawyer." This was a long cross-headed plug which stopped up a hole

in the boat's bottom, and which commonly was concealed from sight by

the planks covering the bilge at the stern.

Two blows were sufficient to make the "Portsmouth lawyer" quit his

grip. The plug had apparently only been adjusted that day, and had

indeed never been properly driven home. But Wat was not content

with this. He seized the axe which he found on board, and drove it

vigorously through the planking of the sides, low down below the

water-line, till the salt-water came bubbling up. Then he hauled in the

rope by which the boat was attached to the lighter skiff in which Kate

and Scarlett sat. As the prow of the scuttled boat touched the stern of

the other, Wat stepped on board with the hatchet in his hand. Then with

a sharply trenchant "chip" he severed the tow-rope, and the doomed boat

instantly fell away towards the white line of the breakers which they

had so perilously skirted.

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