I stood for some moments transfixed with surprise at seeing Tom
Kinlay in this situation. He was lying with his head and shoulders
upon a square box and snoring loudly. Behind him were piled up many
kegs, which I doubted not were filled with contraband spirits. As I
reasoned on all this I surmised that Tom was there probably by the
directions of his father, whom, after what I had heard and seen, I
could not but associate with the smugglers.
I now, for the first time, saw also some shade of reason for the
enmity that had existed between Carver and my father. At the time
of the wreck of the Undine, years before, when he was stranded in
the cavern, Carver had no doubt seen the convenience of the place
for smuggling purposes. The cave was commodious, and the fact that
its situation was little known among the natives gave it the
additional advantage of secrecy.
I could not tell whether Kinlay had carried on his illicit traffic
whilst my father was alive, but I guessed that this was so; and
believing that my father was the only man who knew his secret, I
saw reason sufficient for enmity. My father's death had removed the
one great obstacle in the way of Carver's carrying on the smuggling
unsuspected. It had also enabled him to become a pilot--a position
which gave unusual opportunity to a man so unscrupulous. As pilot
he was able to board any vessel that entered the Orcadian waters,
and in the case of ships which came over from the Continent or from
the north of Scotland with contraband goods, a transfer of cargo
could be boldly effected without exciting suspicion. And here in
the cave I saw before me a part of the smuggler's store.
Having explored the cavern by the light of my lantern, I was forced
to believe that Thora was not there. I returned once more to the
kegs of spirits before departing.
Tom was still sound asleep. Approaching him, I turned the light
upon him and knelt down, shielding the light from his closed eyes.
Suddenly I was alarmed by hearing the noise of voices at the outer
part of the cave--the voices of many men. I blew out the light of
my lantern, rose to my feet, and slipped into the shadow to watch,
for I did not doubt that these were the smugglers.
I had not stood there very long before I observed a flickering of
lights, and the sound of men's feet and voices came nearer and
nearer. Then I saw the lights of two lanterns, and distinguished
the figures of five men. Their sea jackets were powdered with snow.
"Now, lads," said a hoarse voice that I recognized as Carver
Kinlay's, "look smart. Get as many as ye can into the boat, then
roll the others into the water."
His eyes rested upon the sleeping form of his son.
"Hullo!" he cried, "why, here is the young devil after all!"
Then, crossing the plank bridge, he gave Tom a heavy kick in the
ribs, and placed his lantern on the top of one of the casks.
Tom awoke with a start, and I saw him tremble as in fear. His face
was ghastly white.
"Where have ye been all night?" growled his father, without waiting
for an answer; "hurry along here and help to get these kegs into
the boat."
Young Kinlay rose and staggered after the men. Evidently he had
broached one of the whisky kegs.
I drew closer within the shadow of the rock and watched the
proceedings. The smugglers carried away one by one as many of the
spirit kegs as I believed might lie in the bottom of the St.
Magnus. This was done in a great hurry as though much depended upon
getting the things cleared away, and Carver was for ever urging his
men to "hurry up!"
Then they all set to work, and rolled what remained of the casks
into the stream, until, after about an hour's time, there was left
no trace of the smuggler's store, excepting only the square box
that Tom had slept upon.
Carver Kinlay knelt down beside this chest and unlocked it. He
turned over many bundles of papers, and I saw him take out what
appeared to be a roll of bank notes and thrust them into his breast
pocket. He paused suddenly in his work at the hurried return of his
men, and grasped at the box like a miser suddenly surprised.
"The hounds are on us!" exclaimed one excitedly. "They have taken
the boat!" And almost immediately there was a tramp of feet coming
up the cavern, and a blaze of light from several torches shining on
drawn cutlasses.
Kinlay turned with the fury of a wild animal that finds itself
trapped, and stood at bay before a company of blue jackets, who
were headed by the young officer I had twice before met, Lieutenant
Fox of the revenue cutter Clasper.
"In the Queen's name, I arrest you, Carver Kinlay!" said the
officer in a firm, loud voice.
"Not so easily," said Kinlay, who was evidently determined not to
surrender himself without resistance; and planting one foot firmly
on the little bridge which spanned the stream, he drew a large
revolver and pointed it full at the lieutenant's head.
Standing very near to him, in a dark crevice at his right hand, I
saw the movement. I saw Carver's eyes flash in the torchlight, and
just as the click of the trigger sounded I sprang quickly forward
and knocked the man's hand upward. The shot rattled among the
stalactites of the roof, and the report filled the cavern with
deafening noise.
Kinlay was utterly taken aback by what happened, and as the weapon
fell from his hand and dropped into the deep water, he turned
instinctively to see who had attacked him. Two of the cutter's men
thereupon crossed the planks and encountered him on the large flat
rock whence the casks had been taken, while I made my way past
them.
I was walking coolly over the little bridge, with my extinguished
lantern in my hand, when the lieutenant stepped forward and took me
by the collar.
"Aha, youngster!" he exclaimed, "I've seen you before. You've done
me a good turn, but I must take you nevertheless."
And he retained his hold of my jacket, giving directions to his men
the while.
I made a gentle protest, showing no resistance, and stood by the
officer, looking excitedly at the scuffle that ensued between the
smugglers and the revenue men. Tom Kinlay had already been seized
and dragged off to the cutter's boat. One of the smugglers had
retreated to the inner recesses of the cave, taking refuge in the
darkness, and the three others were having a severe fight with the
sailors, using large knives in their defence.
Two of them were speedily overpowered, one of them receiving a
serious wound in his side, the other a great cut across his cheek.
They were both taken to the boat, and there kept under strict
guard. The third man managed to get over to Kinlay.
Carver, on losing his pistol, had taken out his sheath knife, and
armed with this he fought with furious determination, standing with
his back against a wall of rock. One of his antagonists, in trying
to lay hold of his hand, was badly cut, and the other disabled by a
blow in the face. But when Carver was joined by his comrade there
was a rush of the cutter's men across the bridge, and the smugglers
were finally conquered.
They had yet to be brought over to the outer side of the stream,
however, and this was a work of no small difficulty. A couple of
the sailors walked over the narrow planks, one before and one
behind their prisoner, who made an unsuccessful attempt to break
loose.
Then Carver was brought to the bridge in a similar manner; and he
also attempted to escape by making a spring forward when he reached
the middle of the planks. His captors, however, were ready for him.
The man behind him had held his two hands, and when by main force
he got his right hand free, the sailor held with such a tight grip
to the other that Carver was pulled round and he overbalanced
himself.
A stiff struggle for mastery then took place. Kinlay was the
stronger man, and with his free hand he dealt the sailor a hard
blow on the chest. The sailor staggered and fell across the narrow
planks, but still holding Kinlay's left hand he pulled the pilot
smuggler down with him. The sailor let his hand go free. Then
Kinlay tripped, and, uttering a wild yell, fell headlong into the
rushing stream.
The lieutenant, seeing what had happened, loosened his grasp of my
collar and hurried over to his men to try to save Carver from the
dreadful current. One of the wooden planks was thrown into the
water for him to take hold of, but Carver must have failed in his
attempt to reach it. One of the cutter's men ran to the mouth of
the cave and brought back with him a long rope--my own climbing
rope--which he had seen lying on the rocks: this also was too late,
for Carver was already carried off by the swift stream, no doubt to
be taken over into that gulf where Thora had so nearly lost her
life.
There now remained only one other of the smugglers to be captured,
and he was ultimately discovered crouching like a terrified dog in
a dark corner. Before the revenue men left, however, they made a
careful search of the cavern; but they brought nothing down to the
boat excepting the wooden box that Kinlay had been searching in
when he was surprised by the arrival of the blue jackets.
When this excitement was over, and the lieutenant had ordered his
men to return to their boat, I was wondering what their movements
would be in regard to myself. Would they leave me to climb the
cliff and go home, or would they take me round to Stromness?
I was not left long in doubt. Two of the sailors, still with drawn
cutlasses, took me into the bow of the longboat and placed me there
beside Tom Kinlay and the other prisoners, and bound me to them
with my own rope. Then the lieutenant took his seat in the stern
sheets, his men plied their oars, and we were taken out to the
cutter, which lay anchored a few fathoms out from the rocks.
We were all taken aboard of her. Her white canvas was hoisted and
her anchor weighed, and soon we were speeding blithely along in the
direction of Stromness, with the St. Magnus towed astern.