Lieutenant brough went into a fit of passion. Not a noisy, sea-going
fit of passion, full of loud words, such as are not found in
dictionaries, but a rising and falling, swelling and collapsing, silent
fit of passion, as moment by moment he realised more and more that he
had been victimised, and that he had been sent forward to quiet the men
so as to give the big rough fellow an opportunity to creep over into his
boat and cut the painter by which it was made fast, and let it glide
away on the tide till it was safe to thrust an oar over astern, and,
using it like a fish does its tail, paddle softly away close under the
rocks to some hole, or perhaps round into the bay.
For a moment the lieutenant thought of manning the boats and sending in
pursuit, but he knew that such an act would be madness; and, accepting
his position, he suddenly gave the order for four men to go into each
boat, and begin to tow the cutter, while a few of the crew put out the
sweeps to get her a little farther from the cliff to catch the breeze.
Half an hour later the boats were ordered in, sail was being set, and
the cutter was again moving swiftly through the water.
But the wind was dead ahead now, and though the _White Hawk_ could use
her wings well even in such a breeze, and sail very close, it was far
different work getting back to coming away.
The men were not forbidden to talk, and they were not long in grasping
the situation, while their commanding officer went up and down the deck,
fuming and taking himself to task more seriously than any captain had
done since he first went to sea.
"Only to think of me, after what I have learned of their shifts and
tricks, letting myself be taken in by such a transparent dodge. Oh,
it's maddening!"
He looked up at the sails, and longed to clap on more, but it was
useless. The little craft was doing her best, and the water surged
under her bow as she took a long stretch seaward, before tacking for the
land.
"There's not a doubt of it," muttered the lieutenant. "I know it--I'm
sure of it. I deserve to lose my rank. How could I have been such a
blind, idiotic baby!"
He was obliged to confess, though, that the trick, if such it proved to
be, had been well planned and executed, and the stipulation of the man
that he should be paid fifty pounds if the boat was captured had
completely thrown dust into his eyes.
More than once, as the cutter rushed on through the darkness, he found
himself wondering whether, after all, he was wrong, and that the man had
slipped away, so as to avoid being recognised when the smuggling vessel
was captured, for, if seen, he would be a marked man.
"And, perhaps, in a few minutes, the smuggler would have been coming
into the little bay, I should have taken her, redeemed my reputation,
been looked upon as a smart officer, my crew would have got a nice bit
of prize money, and the fellow would have come stealthily some night for
his reward.--I've done wrong. Would there be time to go back?"
He was on the point of bidding the men "'bout ship," when a firm belief
in his having been cheated came over him, and he kept on.
Then there was another season of doubt--and then of assurance--another
of doubt, till the poor little fellow grew half bewildered, and gazed
around, longing for the daylight and his old moorings, so that he might
send a boat ashore, and carefully examine the ground, to see if he could
trace any signs of landing having gone on.
At last, just at daybreak, the cutter was about to make a dash, and run
right down for her old berth, when one of the men shouted "Sail ho!"
He raised his glass, and there, hull down, were the three masts of a
lugger, a Frenchman without a doubt, and his suspicions had their just
confirmation.
His immediate thought was to give chase, but the swift sailing vessel
was well away with a favourable wind, and she would most probably get
across the Channel before he could overtake her, and even if he were so
lucky as to catch up to her, what then? She would not have a keg or
bale on board which would give him an excuse for detaining her; and
wrinkling up his brow, he went on more satisfied that he had been
deluded away, so as to give the _chasse maree_ an opportunity to come in
and rapidly run her cargo.
He saw it all now. No sooner had he passed round the race, than lights
had been shown, and the lugger was run in. He felt as certain as if he
had seen everything, and he ground his teeth with vexation.
"Wait till I get my chance!" he muttered. "I'll sink the first smuggler
I meet; and as to that blackavised scoundrel who came and cheated me as
he did--oh, if I could only see him hung!"
A couple of hours later, after seeing the lugger's masts and sails
slowly disappear, the cutter was once more at her old moorings, and
leaving the boatswain in charge, the lieutenant had himself rowed
ashore, to land upon the ledge, and carefully search the rocks for some
sight of a cargo having been landed.
But the smugglers and their shore friends had been more careful this
time, and search where they would, the cutter's men could find no traces
of anything of the kind, and the lieutenant had himself rowed back to
the cutter, keeping the boat alongside, ready to send along shore to the
cove to seek for tidings of Gurr and Dick but altering his mind, he had
the little vessel unmoored once more to run back the six miles along the
coast till the cutter was abreast of the cove,--the first place where it
seemed possible for a boat to land,--and here he sent a crew ashore to
bring his two men off.