Archy Raystoke was fast asleep, dreaming about being once more on board
the cutter, with the sun shining full in his eyes, because he was lying
on the deck, right in everybody's road, and Gurr the master was scolding
him for it in a way which was very disrespectful to an officer and a
gentleman, while the men grouped around grinned.
He was not surprised, for somehow Mr Brough was not there, and Gurr had
assumed the command of the cutter, and was playing the part of smuggler
and pirate, and insulting him, whom he addressed again: "Get up!"
Archy leaped to his feet, and saw at a glance that it was not the sun,
but the light of a lanthorn shining in his eyes, while, before he could
do more than realise that several men were standing close to him, half
of a sack was drawn-down over his head and shoulders, and a thin rope
was twisted round and round his arms, fastening him securely, and only
leaving his hands free.
"What are you going to do?" he shouted, after a vain struggle to free
himself, and his voice sounded muffled and thick through the heavy sack.
"Pitch you off the cliff if you make so much as a sound," said a gruff
voice by his car. "Keep quiet, and you won't be hurt."
The lad's heart beat heavily, and he felt hot and half suffocated.
"Do you want to smother me?" he said. "Can't breathe."
"Slit the back of the sack, lad," said the same gruff voice, and there
was a sharp cutting noise heard, as a breathing-hole was cut right up
behind his head.
"Now, then, bring him along."
His hand was grasped, and, as he felt himself led over ground that was
quite familiar now, he knew that he was on the way to the entrance.
Were they going to take him out, and set him free?
No; if they had been going to do that, they would not have blindfolded
his eyes.
Yes, they would, for, if they were going to set him free, they would do
so in a way that would place it beyond his power to betray their secret
store.
Quick immatured thoughts which shot through him as he was led along, and
he knew directly after that it was only fancy. Of course. He could
show the lieutenant where the opening was in the cliff, and by knowing
that it would be easy to track out the land entrance.
"No," said the midshipman to himself sadly; "they are going to take me
and imprison me somewhere else, for they must now know that I was
holding communications with that girl."
"Now then, steady!" said a voice, as he felt that the cool air was
coming down on to his head, and he breathed it through the thick
sacking. "Make a rope fast round him."
"I must be at the foot of the way in," thought Archy, as he felt a rope
passed round him, and the next minute it tightened, he was raised from
his feet, and the rope cut into him painfully as he felt himself hauled
up. Then hands seized him, and he was thrown down on the grass, while
the last rope was cast off.
As he lay there being untied, though his eyes were blinded, his ears
were busy, and he listened to the smothered sounds of the trap being
fastened and the stones being drawn over it again.
"Trap-door--door into a trap," he thought. "Where am I going now?
Surely they would not kill me."
A cold chill shot through him, but he mastered the feeling of terror as
he felt himself dragged to his feet.
"Now, then, keep step," the same gruff voice said; and, with apparently
half a dozen men close by him, as far as he could judge by their
mutterings and the dull sound of their feet over the grass, he was
marched on for over an hour--hearing nothing, seeing nothing, but all
the while with his ears strained, waiting for an opportunity to appeal
for help, in spite of the threats he had heard, as soon as he could tell
by the voices that he was near people who were not of the smugglers'
gang.
But no help seemed to be at hand, and, as far as he could judge, he was
being taken along the fields and rough ground near the edge of the wild
cliffs, now near the sea, now far away. At one time he could hear the
dull thud and dash of waves, for a good brisk breeze was blowing, and he
fancied that he had a glint of a star through the thick covering, but he
was not sure. Then the sound of the waves on the shore was completely
hushed, and he felt that they must either be down in a hollow, or going
farther and farther away inland.
Twice this happened, and the third time, as all was still, and he could
feel a hard road beneath his feet, he became sure. There was an echoing
sound from their footsteps, dull to him, but still plain, and it seemed
as if they were down in some narrow cutting or rift, when all at once!
Just in front, after the men about him had been talking more loudly, as
if clear of danger, there rang out a stern--
"Halt--stand!"