"Made me jump, master."
"Don't talk foolery," said the first voice in impatient tones, and to
Archy it was unmistakable. He had heard both voices before. "What have
you made out?"
"Nothing."
"No boat landed?"
"Nor no sign o' one, master. Both lads swear as no one has passed along
the lane."
"Wouldn't take the upper lane, would they?"
"Not likely."
"Upper lane!" thought Archy. Had he taken the upper lane in the
darkness, and so missed the men on the watch?
"Didn't hear the sailors say nothing on the cutter, did you?"
"Not a word."
The middy's heart seemed to give a throb. He did know that voice then.
It was that of the man who had been detained with the boy, and this
other, he was sure, was the voice of the farmer.
"Going to keep on watching?"
"Of course. They'll be up to some game to trap us safe. Ought to get
that stuff away."
"No, I wouldn't, master; it's safe enough now."
"You're a fool," came back in a savage growl. "Anybody but you and that
mole-eyed boy would have seen the kegs before them sailors."
"Did see 'em--when it was too late," grumbled the other.
"Well, go back; and take off them boots, and hang 'em round your neck.
I could hear you a mile away."
"Right."
"Go and tell 'em to keep a sharp look-out in the cove, and then to run
the moment a boat comes in sight."
"No boat won't come in sight to-night. Dark."
"Then the moment you hear one."
"They won't come to-night, master."
"Go and do as I tell you," said the other savagely.
"It's the farmer and his man," thought the listener; "and there is
something wrong."
He wondered what he had better do. Should he give notice to them on the
cutter?
The answer came at once. How could he? He had made no plans for that.
"Off you go," was said roughly, and the rustling sound seemed to
indicate that the man had gone back toward the cove.
Archy listened patiently for the next movement of the farmer, but he
could detect nothing, and he was feeling sure that the man was still
watching and listening, when he heard a sneeze at a distance followed by
a muttering sound, and knew that he must have moved off.
Without a moment's hesitation the lad followed, keeping along the grassy
marge of the road, and listening intently to make out at last the dull
sound of steps, which told that the man who made them was walking
barefoot.
As far as he could judge now, Archy was in the proper road, and as he
walked along he tried to understand what was going on, coming at last to
the conclusion at which he had at first jumped, that something would be
done that night if the farmer and his people were certain that they
would not be disturbed.
As he thought he walked cautiously on, wondering what he had better do,
and seeing at last a bright light in front high up a slope, and another
away to his right much higher.
A little consideration told him that the first was at the farm; the
other high up, facing toward the sea, must be up at the Hoze.
Trusting more to chance than plan, the midshipman went on and on,
following Farmer Shackle; the task becoming easy now, for as he neared
the lights the man grew more careless, so that it was easy to trace his
movements, which were evidently homeward, till a few minutes later Archy
saw him pass the glowing window, swing open a door from which came a
burst of light, pass in, and the door was closed.
Archy stood outside with a vague belief that before long the man would
come out, and perhaps go to the spot where the cargo was hidden.
As he waited he could not help turning his eyes in the direction of the
long, solitary house in the patch of woodland, and found himself
wondering whether he should ever go up there again.
After waiting about a quarter of an hour outside the farm, with his back
against one of the roughly piled-up stone walls of the district, Archy
began to think it was very dull, and his expectations of a discovery or
an adventure grew less and less. All was very quiet at the farm, so
quiet that he determined at last to go and peer in at the window to see
if the farmer was likely to come out again, because if this were not so
he was wasting his time.
"But they are not likely to do anything without him," he thought.
Advancing cautiously, he entered the garden, and was just going up to
the window, when the door was thrown open, and he dropped down behind a
bush as the farmer strode out.
"He must see me," thought Archy. "What a position for an officer to be
in!"
"Eh?" exclaimed Shackle, turning sharply round, as if to answer his
wife. "Oh yes. Ought to have been here by now."
This gave the midshipman a moment's breathing time; and he had drawn
himself up behind the bush by the time the farmer had closed the door,
the sudden change from darkness to light preventing Shackle from seeing
the spy upon his proceedings.
Just as he was passing he stopped short, uttering an ejaculation; and
feeling that he was seen, the midshipman was about to leap up, jump over
the low wall, and run, when he heard steps.
He lay still, hoping that this might have drawn forth the exclamation,
but for the next few moments he was in agony.
Then came relief.
"That you, Ramillies?"
"Yes, father."
"Well?"
"I think it's all right. Carts are coming, and all the lads are down
the roads."
"All?"
"No. Two of 'em's down by the cove, but they won't send anybody from
the cutter to-night."
"Not so sure of it, my boy,--not so sure. Can't be too careful.
'Tain't as if we were obliged to move 'em to-night. Landing a cargo's
one thing; getting it away another. Well, we'll try. You're sure
they're keeping good watch at the cove?"
"Yes, father."
"What sort of an officer did he seem on the cutter?"
"Little, fat, sleepy chap."
"And the others?"
"Don't seem to be no others, only that cocky-hoopy middy, who came
ashore with the men. I should like to ketch him ashore some day."
One of Archy's legs gave a twitch at the first remark about him, and the
twitch occurred in his right arm at the second.
"Don't chatter. Not very sharp sort of officer, eh?"
"No, father. Sort of chap who'd go to sleep all night."
Archy began wondering. He had thought the boy a dull, stupid-looking
bumpkin, and he was finding out how observing he had been.
"Well, we'll risk it, boy. Come along."
Archy's heart gave a bound.
Here was news! He had been growing dull and disheartened, thinking that
his expedition was foolish and impossible, and here at once he had
learned what he wanted. He knew that now all he had to do was to take
advantage of every wall and tree, even to creep along the ground if
necessary, and he would be able to follow the smugglers to the place
where they had hidden the run cargo, watch them bring it out, and then
track them to the fresh hiding-place.
He would thus learn everything, and be able at daybreak to make his way
to the cliff, signal for a boat, and a grand capture would be made.
His heart beat high as he thought of the lieutenant's delight, and of
the joy there would be amongst the men, for this would mean prize-money,
and perhaps the means of deluding the vessel that had brought the cargo
into a trap, so that it could be captured, and more prize-money as well
as honour be the result.
It did not take him long to think all this; and then he rose cautiously
and dropped down again, for the door was re-opened, and the light beamed
out so that the watcher felt that he must be seen.
"That my Rammy?" cried Mrs Shackle.
"Yes," growled the farmer; "keep that door shut and your mouth too."
"But do be careful, master. I don't want him took prisoner again."
"It's all right, mother."
"Come along, boy."
Archy heard the departing steps, and began to suffer a fresh agony of
suspense. He could not stir, for the farmer's wife stood at the open
door, and the slightest movement would have caused a discovery; and all
the time he could hear the footsteps growing more and more faint.
"Oh!" he said to himself; "and it's so dark I shan't be able to tell
which way they have gone."
What should he do? Start up and run?
If he did the woman was certain to raise an alarm; and, knowing that, he
could do nothing but wait till she went in, when he might chance to pick
up the clue again.
His heart beat so loudly that he felt as if it must be heard, but Mrs
Shackle was too intent upon listening to the departing footsteps, which
grew more faint till they died out entirely, and as they passed away the
midshipman's heart sank.
"Had all my trouble for nothing," he thought. "So near success, and yet
to fail!"
"Ah, deary deary me!" said a voice from close at hand, "I'm very sick
and tired of it all. I wish he'd be content with his cows and sheep."
Mrs Shackle drew back as she said this, the door closed, and Archy
sprang up, darted out of the gateway, and hurried along the path as fast
as the darkness would allow, stopping from time to time to listen.
For a long time he could hear nothing. He was descending the slope
toward the road leading to the cove, as far as he could tell, for it
seemed to him likely that the farmer and his son had gone in that
direction; but as he went on and on, and was unable to detect a sound,
he felt that he must be wrong, and stopped short, listening intently.
"Bother the woman!" he thought; "it's all through her. They'll go and
get all the cargo from the hiding-place, and take it somewhere, and I
shall know nothing."
He bit his lip with disappointment, and gave an angry stamp on the
grass.
"I'll go back, and try some other way."
Easy to determine, but hard to carry out in the darkness, and in a place
which seemed quite changed at night. There should be a lane or track
leading down to the cliff he knew, but where it was he could not say; in
fact, at that moment, in his confusion, he could hardly tell for certain
that he was on the road leading right away to the cove.
"I may just as well be moving," he said at last despondently. "Oh, if I
could only have followed them up!"
His heart gave a bound just then, for plainly on the night air came a
dull sound, as of footsteps on grass. Then there was a whisper, and
directly after he knew that a number of people were coming quickly
toward him.
A moment or two later he heard a rattling noise, which he recognised as
that made by a horse shaking his harness, and once more Archy's heart
beat high.
There had not been time for them--if those people coming were the
smugglers--to fetch the cargo, and they must be coming in his direction.
"What shall I do?" thought the watcher; "lie down and let them pass, or
go on?"
He decided on the latter course, and finding that he was in a lane
bounded by stone walls, he went on, pausing from time to time to make
sure that he was being followed.
This proved to be the case, the people getting nearer and nearer, and it
was a curious experience to hear the whispering of voices and trampling
of feet coming out of the darkness.
"Walking on the side turf," said Archy to himself, as he kept on, to
find after a few minutes that the stone wall on his left had ceased, but
he could feel that the road went on, and heard the people coming.
A minute or two later he realised that he was going up hill; then the
slope grew steeper, and he paused again to listen.
He was quite right. They were coming on steadily, and he knew that
there must be twenty or thirty people; but he could hear no horses now.
"They've stopped at the foot of this steep place," he thought, as he
went on and on, the people still advancing fast, and all at once, as he
went on, a sudden thought ran through him like a stab. For he had
guessed at least the direction in which he was going in the black
darkness; he was once more ascending the slope toward the patch of
woodland high up the hill, and the place of deposit of the smuggled
goods must be the Hoze.