"Can't be, sir," said Gurr, as he tried to pierce the darkness, "because
the skipper must be lying at anchor where we left him."
"Hah! See that?" cried Archy, as the men bent to their oars and made
the now phosphorescent water flash.
"Only the oars, lad. Water brimes."
_Thud_! came the report of a heavy gun.
"You're right, lad! 'Twas the flash from a gun. Some one's pursuing of
something. Pull away, my lads, let's get aboard, and the skipper may
join in. Bah! What's the good o' shore-going? Man's sure to get wrong
there."
The men forgot their weariness in the excitement, as they realised that
some vessel was in chase of a smuggler, but they murmured among
themselves at their ill luck at being away from the cutter; for if they
had been aboard at the first shot, the anchor would have been weighed or
slipped, and the _White Hawk_ gone to see what was going on, probably to
help capture a heavily laden smuggler craft.
"And we should have took our share, lads," said Dick in a whisper.
"Hey, boot we are out o' luck."
"Don't sit muttering and grumbling there, my lad, but pull hard, and
let's get aboard," cried the master, and the oars dipped away in the
dark sea, seeming to splash up so much pale lambent fire at every
stroke.
But this was no novelty to the men, and the boats sped on, one in the
other's wake, with the crew straining their heads over their left
shoulders to catch a glimpse of the next flash which preceded the gun.
"Good six mile away from where we are now," said Gurr. "Oh, my lad, my
lad, I wish we were aboard."
But it was a long pull from the cove to where the cutter lay, nearly a
mile and a half from the shore, and, though the master and Archy kept
straining their eyes to catch sight of their little vessel, she was
invisible.
As they rowed on, they kept on increasing their distance from the shore,
steering so as to pass along one side of a right-angled triangle,
instead of along by the cliff and then straight off; but, as the cutter
showed no lights, this was all guess-work, and made the task rather
anxious.
The firing kept on, the dull thud of the gun being preceded by the
flash, and at each notification of a shot the men gave such a tug at the
stout ash blades that they bent, and the boat leaped through the water.
"Hurrah! Morning," cried Archy, and the men answered his remark with a
cheer, for there was a grey light coming fast now in the east, but, to
the utter astonishment of all, the cutter did not become visible.
They gazed round excitedly as the light broadened, but there was no
cutter where they expected she would be, but ten minutes later, dimly
seen as yet, they made her out miles away under full sail, in chase of a
long, low, three-masted lugger, at which she was keeping up a slow and
steady fire.
The men cheered as the direction of the boats' heads was changed.
"Pull, my lads, pull!" cried master and boatswain. The men responded
with another cheer, and the water rattled under their bows.
"It's a long pull," cried the master; "but as soon as she sees us,
she'll run down and pick us up."
"Hurrah!" shouted the men.
"Well done, Mr Brough, well done!" cried Gurr excitedly. "Think of
him, with hardly a man to help him, sailing the cutter, and keeping up a
steady fire like that. Oh, Mr Raystoke, why aren't we aboard?"
"Ah, why indeed? There she goes again. I say, Mr Gurr, won't she be
able to knock some of her spars overboard."
"I wish I was aboard the lugger with an axe," growled Gurr, shading his
eyes; and then, placing his foot against the stroke oar, he gave a
regular thrust with the man's pull, a plan imitated by the boatswain on
board the other boat.
The light increased rapidly now, and the soft grey sky gave promise of a
glorious day, but this did not take the attention of those on board the
boats, who could see nothing but the lugger trying to escape, and
gradually growing more distant, while the cutter kept on slowly, sending
a shot in her wake, evidently in the hope of bringing down one of her
masts.
"What boat's that, Mr Gurr?" said Archy at last, drawing the master's
attention to one in full sail in the opposite direction to that in which
they were going.
"Dunno, my lad. Never mind her. Lobster, I should say."
"Looks fast and smart for a lobster-boat," thought Archy, as he kept
glancing at the craft, whose aspect seemed to have a strange attraction
for him alone. In fact, every eye was fixed upon the two vessels in the
offing, while it seemed to Archy that the boat, which was sailing
rapidly, had changed her course on seeing them, and was trying to get
close up under the cliffs, apparently to reach the cove from which they
had come.
There was nothing suspicious in a sailing-boat making for the cove, but,
as the middy looked at it, the boat heeled over in a puff of wind, and
he fancied that he caught sight of a familiar figure behind the sail.
It was only a momentary glance, and directly after he told himself it
was nonsense, for the figure which had started up in the night, away on
the cliff was Ram Shackle, and he could not be in two places at once.
"We shall never do it, my lads," said the master suddenly. "Easy--easy.
It's of no use to break your backs, and your hearts too. She's sailing
two knots to our one. Easy in that boat," he shouted. "We can't do
it."
A low murmur arose from both crews.
"Silence there!" shouted Gurr. Then, more gently, "I don't want to give
it up, but you can see for yourself, bo's'n, we can't do it."
"No," came back abruptly.
"It would only be hindering her too. No, Mr Raystoke, it's only our
old bad luck, and common sense says it's of no use to fight again it."
"Mr Gurr," said Archy excitedly, speaking with his eyes fixed on the
sailing-boat.
"Yes, my lad, what is it?"
"Do you think it possible that yonder boat has had anything to do with
the lugger?"
"Eh? What?" cried the master sharply. "Haven't got a glass. I dunno.
They're such a set of foxes about here that she might."
He shaded his eyes with his hand, and took a long look at her, and once
more a puff of wind caught her sail and heeled her over, so that he
could get a good look over her side.
She was about a mile away, and well in toward the shore, keeping far
enough from the cliffs to catch the land breeze, and now, as the task of
catching up the cutter was given up as impossible, the boat took the
attention of all.
"Why, she's got a lot of men in her," cried Gurr excitedly; "nine or ten
lying down in her bottom."
"Yes," cried Archy; "and it doesn't take ten men to catch a lobster."
"Ahoy, bo's'n!" cried Gurr; "pull off to the west'ard sharp, and cut off
that boat if she makes for that way. Try and head her in under the
cliff where there's no wind, if she tries to pass you. Look out! She
has a lot of men on board."
The direction of the second boat was altered at once, the men began to
pull hard; and just as a dull thud from seaward told that the _White
Hawk_ was still well on the heels of her quarry, the first boat turned
smartly and began to chase.
"I hope you're right, Mr Raystoke," said the master. "I should like to
have one little bit o' fun before we go back aboard. Ah, look at her!
She don't mean us to overhaul her. Be smart, my lads. Don't cheer, but
seem to be taking it coolly. You're right, Mr Raystoke," he added a
minute later; "there's something wrong with that boat, or she would not
want to run away."
For the direction of the little yawl they were making for was suddenly
changed, and it was evident that, seeing how the second boat, commanded
by the boatswain, was going to head her off from the west, she was being
put on the other course, so as to run east.
But the first boat was going rapidly through the water now, and a turn
of the helm changed her course, so that it would be easy to cut the yawl
off from going in the new direction, while an attempt to pass between
the boats and head straight for sea was also met by the steersmen of the
pursuers.
"Why, what's she going to do?" said Gurr. "Ah, my lad, it's all a flam.
Only a lobster-boat after all. She's going to run in under the cliffs
where there's no wind, and of course it's to take up her lobster-pots."
"If she was only going to take up lobster-pots she wouldn't have tried
to run," said Archy sharply. "I'd overhaul her, Mr Gurr."
"Going to, my lad. Don't you be scared about that. I'll overhaul her,
if it's only to get some fresh lobsters for breakfast. There, I told
you so," he continued, after a few minutes' interval, during which the
boat was sailing straight in for the cliffs, about five hundred yards
away from the landing ledge, away to the west; and as the master spoke
the mainsail was rapidly lowered, the jib dropped, and those in the
_White Hawk's_ leading boat saw that there was a good deal of busy work
on board; and before they had recovered from their surprise, several men
rose up, oars were thrust over now that the wind had failed, and, with
eight men pulling, they were going straight for the cliff.
"Smugglers!" shouted Gurr excitedly. "Jump up, Mr Raystoke, and signal
the bo's'n to come on. We shall have a prize after all, though it's
only a little one. Pull my lads, pull?"
The smugglers' boat was now about half a mile away, the men in her
pulling with all their might, but the King's boat was the more swift,
though after a few minutes' chase it was evident that the start was in
the smugglers' favour.
"Hang them! They're going to run ashore. They've got a nook there,
I'll be bound, and as soon as they're landed they'll be scuffling up the
side of the cliff. Pull, my lads, and as we reach the rock, out with
you and chase them; you can climb as well as they can. If they're
getting away, cover them with your pistols, and tell 'em they shall have
it if they don't surrender."
The excitement was now tremendous: the cutter's boat was going fast, and
the second boat was closing up, so that it would be impossible for the
smugglers to escape by sea. And now, as they drew nearer, Archy saw
that his first surmise was right: Ram was in the boat, and right
forward, his red cap showing out plainly in the morning light. Jemmy
Dadd was there too, and Shackle, beside the big dark fellow who had
tricked the lieutenant, while the rest of the crew were strong-looking
fellows of the fisherman type.
"Now then there!" shouted Gurr, rising up, but retaining his hold of the
tiller with one hand. "It's of no use. Surrender!"
A yell of derision came from the boat, and Ram jumped up and waved his
red cap, with the effect that it seemed as if some of the dye had been
transferred to Archy's face, which a minute sooner had been rather pale
with excitement.
"Pull, my lads, pull, and you'll have them before they land!" cried the
master, stamping his foot. "Here, take the tiller, Mr Raystoke;" and
he shifted his position, passed the tiller to Archy, and stood up and
drew his sword.
"Starboard a little--starboard!" he said. "Run her right alongside, my
lad; and you, my men, never mind your oars, the others'll pick them up.
The moment we touch, up with you, out with your cutlashes, and down with
any man who does not surrender."
"Ay, ay, sir!" cheered the men.
"Now, then," shouted Gurr, "do you surrender?"
A derisive laugh came from the smugglers, who pulled their hardest,
pretty closely followed by the king's boat, when, just as they seemed to
be coming stem on to the rocks at the foot of the cliff, the four men on
the starboard side suddenly plunged their oars down deep, backing water,
while the men on the larboard pulled furiously, the result being that
the head of the boat swung round, and she glided right out of sight
behind a tall rock, which seemed part of the main cliff from a few yards
out.
A fierce cry of rage came from the master, but he was quick at giving
directions, checking the course of his boat, and then proceeding
cautiously; and having no difficulty in following under a low archway
for some twenty yards,--a passage evidently only possible at extreme low
water,--and directly after they were out again in broad daylight, and at
the bottom of a huge funnel-like hollow, from which the rocky cliffs
rose up some three hundred feet.
It was a marvellously beautiful spot, but the occupants of the _White
Hawk's_ boat had only eyes then for the smugglers, who had run their
boat into a nook just across the bottom of the pool, and they had had
time to leap on to the rock, and were rapidly climbing a rough zigzag
path.
"And us never to have been along here at the right time of the tide to
find this hole!" thought Archy, as, in obedience to a sign, he steered
the boat across the beautiful transparent pool, and laid her alongside
the smugglers boat.
Then oars were thrown down, the men sprang across the smugglers' craft,
and, headed by Archy and Gurr, began to climb rapidly after their
enemies.
"It's of no use to call upon them to surrender," said Gurr rather
breathlessly, as they toiled up the zigzag.
"We'll make them do it later on," cried Archy, whose youth and activity
helped him to get on first.
"Steady, my lad, steady!"
"But I want to see which way they go."
"Right, but keep out of danger, my lad. If they show fight, keep back."
Archy heard, but made no reply, and toiled on up the rugged ascent,
straining every nerve as he saw the last smuggler disappear over the
top, and, at the next turn he made in the zigzag, he caught a glimpse of
the ascent from top to bottom, with the sailors climbing up, and just
then there was a fresh cheer, which made him turn swiftly again, to look
round and see the second boat gliding through the rocky arch into the
pool.
It was rather risky, for he was on a narrow slippery place at one of the
turns of the _zigzag_, and nearly lost his footing, but, darting out a
hand, he caught at the rock, recovered himself, and climbed on, to reach
the top just in time to see Ram's red cap disappearing some four hundred
yards away over a rounded eminence due west of where he stood.
He glanced down again, and then, breathless as he was, ran on over the
down-like hillside till he reached the spot where he had seen Ram's red
cap disappear, and here he stopped, to make sure of Mr Gurr seeing the
direction he had taken, standing well up with his sword raised above his
head in the bright sunshine.
There was nothing visible but soft green rolling cliff top, and he
looked vainly for some sign of the enemy, eager to go on, but taught
caution, and not knowing but what Ram might have taken one direction to
lure the pursuers away, while the men were in hiding in another.
But, as he waited and scanned the place around, he suddenly caught sight
of what seemed to be a rift against the sky in the edge of a cliff which
rose up rapidly, and his heart gave a great throb.
"Let Ram play what tricks he likes," he said, "I know where I am now."
"Well, my lad, well!" panted Gurr, running up, followed by the men.
"Don't say they've got away!"
"No," cried Archy excitedly. "I think I can lead you to the foxes'
hole. This way."
And, as he spoke, there came in rapid succession a couple of dull thuds
from seaward, and a cheer from the crew behind, as, led by Archy
Raystoke, the men now went over the undulating cliff top at a trot.