Half an hour after, a dirty-looking sailor lad slipped down into the
boat, with his worsted cap pulled well down over his eyes, and an
uncomfortable feeling about his chest, as he sat back in the
stern-sheets by Gurr the master.
"Lay your backs well into it, my lads," said the lieutenant, "and try
and land him without being seen."
"Ay, ay, sir!" came from the men, the boat began to surge through the
still water, and the boy tried to shift the lion's head which formed the
top of his dirk handle.
This he had placed inside the breast of his woollen shirt, ready for use
if wanted, but it promised to hurt him more than any enemy, and he
wished he had left it on board.
"No talking, lads," said the master, "and don't splash."
The oars had been muffled, and they glided along through the faint mist,
in a ghostly way, well in the shadow of the cliffs, Gurr keeping up a
whispered conversation with the lad by his side.
"It's no use to ask you 'bout where you are going first, sir," whispered
the master, "because I suppose it will all be chance. But you'll go up
to the farm, eh?"
"Yes, I shall go there."
"And up to that big house?"
Archy was silent.
"Ah, well; it's your plan, and you must do what you think's best, only
take care of yourself, and if they're after you, don't make for the sea,
that's where they'll think you would go. Make inland for the woods, and
hide there."
Archy nodded, and no more was said during the dark journey. They were
so close to the huge wall of rocks that it seemed as if they were alive
with strange marine creatures, which kept on writhing and whispering
together, and making gasping and sucking noises, as the tide heaved and
sank among the loose rocks and seaweed, while Archy could not divest
himself of the idea that they were watched by people keeping pace with
them higher up on the top of the cliff.
"Wonder whether those two have landed the cow by this time?" whispered
Gurr, breaking in upon one of Archy's reveries, in which he saw himself
following a band of smugglers laden with contraband goods.
"I don't know," he replied. "We must take care they do not see us."
"Not likely on a dark night like this. Won't be so foggy, though, as
'twas last."
Nothing was seen or heard of the late prisoners' boat, and for very good
reasons; and at last they found themselves abreast of the opening into
the cove, where they lay upon their oars for a time listening.
All was still. Not a sound to be heard on either of the luggers lying
at their buoys, and no light was visible at the cottages at the head of
the little bay.
"I might venture now," whispered Archy. "Have me rowed close in to the
shingle beach on the right, not close ashore, but so that I can wade in.
I shall drop over the side where it's about two feet deep. Let them
back in and we can try the depth with the boat-hook."
The order was whispered, the boat glided in through the broad opening,
was turned quickly, and then the men backed water till told to stop,
Archy, who had the boat-hook over the side, suddenly finding it touch
the shingly bottom at the depth of about a foot.
"Good-bye," he whispered, and, gliding over the side, he softly waded
ashore and stood on the beach.
It looked light in front, where the limestone rocks had given place to
chalk, but to right, left, and seaward, all was black as night, and
stepping cautiously along, the lad approached the cottages, listening
attentively, but not hearing a sound save the gurgling of water as it
trickled under the stones on its way to the sea.
As he reached the track leading past the cottages he had a narrow escape
from falling over a boat that was drawn up on the stones, but he saved
himself with a jerk; and, feeling hot with the sudden start, he turned
and crouched down, but there was not a sound to indicate that he had
been heard, and drawing a long breath he stepped on to reach the hard
earth where his feet were not among the water-worn pebbles, and in a few
minutes he was on the road he had traversed twice that day, and walking
fast toward the farm.
Once or twice he hesitated, for the way lay so low down in the valley,
with the hills towering up to such a height on either side, that the
night seemed as dark as during the fog of the previous night; but he got
along over the ground pretty well in spite of its seeming more hilly and
rough, till at the end of about an hour and a half he felt that he must
be approaching the farm, and he advanced more cautiously, listening for
footsteps and voices from time to time.
There was a good broad green marge to the lane about here, and he
stepped on to it, the turf deadening his footsteps.
"But I don't recollect seeing this grass in the morning," he thought;
and then he stopped short, for it suddenly occurred to him that he had
not come upon the cluster of houses where the people smiled and nodded
at one another as they passed.
"I can't have trailed off into another road, can I?" he said to himself,
as he felt quite startled and turned hot.
He looked round, but it was too dark to make out anything, and he was
about to start on again, comforting himself with the idea that he must
be right, when he heard at a distance the _pat-pat_ of feet on hard
ground, and drew back close up to the side to stoop down among some
brambles, which told him at once after their fashion what they were.
"If I only dared ask whoever this is," thought Archy, "I should do."
His thoughts took another direction directly, for, apparently about
twenty yards away, he heard some one sneeze, and then mutter
impatiently, followed by another sneeze.
And all the while the regular _pat-pat_ of footsteps came from his
right, but not as he had come, for the sound was as if some one was
approaching by a road which came at right angles to the one he was in.
Archy crouched there, breathless and listening, wondering who the man
could be who was perfectly silent now, but he had not moved away unless
the turf had silenced his footprints.
"How lucky it was I stopped!" thought the midshipman. "I should have
walked right on to him and been caught."
The steps came nearer, and at last it seemed as if they were going to
pass on, when a gruff voice from close by said,--
"Well, lad?"