"No shots, lads. Cutlashes!"
There was a rush; the sound of blows, men swayed and struggled about
wildly, and the lad, bound, blindfolded, and helpless, was thrust here
and there. Then he received a sharp blow from a cudgel, which sent him
staggering forward, and directly after a dull cut from a steel weapon,
which, fortunately for him, fell upon and across the rope which bound
his arms to his sides. There were oaths, fierce cries, and the
struggling grew hotter, till all at once there was a rush, Archy went
down like a skittle, men seemed to perform a triumphal war-dance upon
his body, and then they passed on with the fight, evidently consisting
of a retreat and pursuit, till the sounds nearly died away.
A minute later, as Archy lay there perfectly helpless, the noises
increased again. Men were evidently laughing and talking loudly, and
the sounds seemed to come round a corner, to become plainer all at once.
"Pity we didn't go on after them? Nonsense, my lad! They know every
hole and corner about here, and there's no knowing where they'd have led
us," said a familiar voice.
"Well, it is precious dark," said another.
"Too dark to see what we are about. But I take you all to witness, my
lads, they 'tacked us first."
"Ay, ay: they began it," came in chorus.
"And if it happens that they are not smugglers, and there's trouble
about it, you know what to say."
Archy heard all this, and it seemed to him that the party were about to
pass him, when a voice he well knew growled out,--
"Hit me an awful whack with a stick."
"Ay, I got one too, my lad; and I didn't like to use my cutlash."
"Wish we'd took a prisoner, or knocked one or two down. Why, here is
one."
There was a buzz of voices, and Archy felt himself hoisted up.
"Can you stand? Not wounded, are you? Who cut him down?"
"Well, I'm 'fraid it was me," said one of the familiar voices. "Why, he
is a prisoner ready made."
"What? Here, cut him loose, lads. Hullo, my lad, who are you?"
"Take this off," panted Archy in a stifled voice; and then, as the sack
was dragged over his head, he uttered a sigh, and staggered, and would
have fallen, had not one of the men caught him.
"Hold up, lad. Not hurt, are you?"
"No," said Archy hoarsely.
"Who are you? What were they going to do with you?"
"Don't you know me, Mr Gurr?"
"Mr Raystoke!"
The rest of his speech, if he said anything, was drowned in a hearty
cheer as the men pressed round.
"Well, I am glad!" cried the master. "We've been ashore a dozen times,
my lad, and searched everywhere, till the skipper thought you must have
run away."
"Run away!" cried Archy huskily. "I've been a prisoner."
"Those were smugglers, then?"
"Yes," cried Archy; "but they shall smart for all this. I know where
all their hiding-places are, and we'll hunt them down."
"Hooray!" shouted the men.
"Were you looking for me?"
"Well, not to-night, my lad. Making a bit of a patrol," said Gurr.
"The skipper thought that perhaps we might run against something or
another, and we have and no mistake. But what's the matter? Not hurt,
are you?"
"No, not much. I got a blow on the shoulder, and then some one gave me
a chop with a cutlass."
"That was you, Dirty Dick! I did see that," cried one of the men.
"Well, I don't say it warn't me. How was I to know it was a orsifer in
the dark, and smothered up like that?"
"Are you wounded, then?" cried the master excitedly.
"No; it felt more like a blow, but people kept trampling on me after I
was down."
"That's bad," said Gurr, giving vent to a low whistle. "Here, lads,
let's carry him to the boat."
"No, no!" cried the midshipman. "I think I can walk. I could hardly
breathe."
"Well, go steady, then. It's on'y 'bout half a mile to the cove. Where
did they mean to take you, lad?"
"I don't know. Perhaps on board some ship to get me out of the way;"
and he briefly explained his late position, as they walked steadily on,
the men listening eagerly the while.
"Then you can take me right to the place, Mr Raystoke?" said Gurr.
Archy hesitated.
"I can point it out from the sea, but it will be all guess-work from the
shore."
"Never mind; we'll find it. But you can't think about where they were
taking you to-night?"
"I have no idea. Of course they blindfolded me, so that I should not
see the way out of the place I left, nor the way into the other."
"Ah, well, come on, and the skipper will talk to you. He has been fine
and mad about it, and I 'most think he's turned a bit thinner, eh,
Dick?"
"Ay, that he have," said the latter. "Leastwise you might think so."
"One day he's been all in a fret, saying you've run away, and that you'd
be dismissed the service, and it was what he quite expected; and then,
so as not to put him out, when you agreed with him, he flew out at you,
and called you a fool, and said he was sure the smugglers had murdered
his officer, or else tumbled him off the cliff."
Archy was too weary with excitement to care to talk much, and he tramped
on with the men, hardly able to realise the truth of his escape, and
half expecting to wake up in the darkness and find it all a dream. But
he was reminded that it was no dream, from time to time, by feeling a
hand laid deprecatingly upon his bruised arm, and starting round to see
in the darkness that it was Dirty Dick, who patted his injury gently,
and then uttered a satisfied "Hah!"
"Pleased to see me back," thought the midshipman, "but I wish he
wouldn't pat me as if I were a dog."
"Hullo!" exclaimed the master just then, as they came opposite a
depression in the cliff which gave them a view out to sea. "What's
going on? Forrard, my lads. Smart!"
The pace was increased, for away in the darkness there hung out a bright
signal which all knew meant recall, and the midshipman's heart throbbed
as he felt that before long he would be in a boat dancing over the
waves, and soon after treading the deck of the smart little cutter.
"No," he said to himself, as after a hail a boat came out of the
darkness, its keel grating on the pebbly shore, and he uttered a sigh of
content on sinking back in the stern-sheets; "it isn't a dream."