THE FREE-TRADERS’ FAREWELL.
What if one of Ann’s friends, her poor lover Tom for instance, had
stolen the key of the vault, in order to be able to pass an hour by the
coffin which held the remains of one who had been so dear to him?
This seemed so likely, that Tregenna was resolved to put his notion
to the test. But he found the door of the vault safely locked, and no
signs about of any recent visitor.
As, however, on the following day, the vicar confessed that the key had
not yet been discovered, Tregenna made up his mind to keep an eye on
the church; and he regularly, for the next ten days, paid a visit to
the spot before returning to the cutter after his call at the Parsonage.
And on the tenth evening, just as he was entering the churchyard by the
little wooden gate on the north side, he caught sight of a human head
disappearing rapidly, apparently into the bowels of the earth, behind
the east end of the church.
Going rapidly and noiselessly in that direction, Tregenna reached the
steps which led down to the vault, and saw that the door was open some
inches. Descending cautiously, he could distinguish certain sounds
within the vault, which betrayed the presence of live human beings; the
mutterings and shufflings of feet grew louder, until he was able to
distinguish the voice of Jack Price the smuggler, and another which he
did not recognize.
After the lapse of a few seconds they began to make such a noise, as
they pushed certain heavy loads about, to the accompaniment of much
scraping of the stone floor, that Tregenna ventured to open the door a
little farther, and to peep in.
A weird sight met his eyes. By the light of a torch, which smoked and
flared, throwing a red light on the faces and figures of the men, and
making a great patch of sooty blackness upon the green slime on the
roof, Jack Price, long, lean, and woebegone of face, and Bill Plunder,
short, crooked, and evil-looking, were busily engaged in piling up
against the walls of the vault a huge quantity of kegs and bales of
goods, in order to make them occupy the least possible space, and so
make room for more.
Tregenna, hardened as he was to the smugglers and their villainies,
could scarcely believe his eyes. Not a sign of a coffin was to be seen.
Apparently the dead had been turned out of their resting-place, to make
way for the merchandise of the “free-traders.”
As he thought of the callousness which could thus make an opportunity
out of the death of an old comrade like Ann, to find a new nest for
their contraband wares, the lieutenant felt that he could restrain
himself no longer. Casting all prudence to the winds, and unmindful of
the fact that these two might have comrades within call, he dashed open
the door of the vault, and seizing the tall Jack Price, by a clever
movement flung him sprawling on the stone floor.
Bill Plunder, though taken aback for the moment, recovered himself, and
planting himself behind a breastwork of contraband merchandise, leveled
his pistol at Tregenna.
The lieutenant whipped out his own weapon at the same moment, received
a bullet in his right shoulder, and answered by firing with his left
a shot which made Bill leap up in the air with a loud cry. The next
moment Tregenna found himself grappling with Jack, who had risen from
the ground and seized a broken piece of metal which was lying on the
stone floor.
Jack fought like a madman, slashing and plunging at his opponent with a
vigor and ferocity which seemed to render the combat a hopeless one for
the lieutenant, whose wound was bleeding freely, when, just as Tregenna
felt his head growing dizzy and his eyes becoming dim, the smuggler, in
making a desperate lunge at him, tripped in some ropes which were lying
on the floor, and stumbled headlong over a couple of the smuggled kegs
of spirit.
Quick as thought Tregenna seized one of the kegs, sprang to the door,
got outside, and wedged the door tightly with the barrel, which he had
rolled out in front of him.
The space at the bottom of the steps was just wide enough to allow of
this being done; and then, without waiting to see whether the men
would make any attempt to escape from their imprisonment, he started
for the Parsonage.
Before he got there, however, he found himself staggering, and knew
that he would not have strength left to reach the house. As he stood
swaying to and fro for a few seconds on the footpath, he caught the
sound of a wagon going along slowly at the foot of the hill. There was
a man walking beside the horses, cracking his whip and urging them on.
It was too dark for Tregenna to see either wagon or man; but the frosty
air carried the sounds to him clearly, and carried back his fainting
cry—
“Help, help!”
Then he fell down on the grass beside the footpath.
When he came to himself, after a curious experience of being in the
sea, swimming for life, with a dozen faces he knew around him, he found
that he was still lying on the grass, but that there was at least one
face he knew bending over him, looking very weird and strange by the
light of a heavy lantern, which had been placed on the ground beside
him. And the face was that of Gardener Tom!
“Tom?” cried he faintly.
The great boorish fellow watching over him burst into a great
blubbering and sobbing like an overgrown child.
“Ay, ’tis me, sir, and glad am I to see you look at me again. For oons,
sir, I thought you’d shut your eyes forever! You’re hurt, sir—badly
hurt. And for sure ’tis one of them rascally smugglers that’s done it!”
Ill as he was, Tregenna smiled and raised his eyebrows.
“Smugglers, Tom! Nay, sure you mean ‘free-traders.’”
“I means _smugglers_, domn ’em!” roared Tom, energetically. “And if
ever I carry a keg again, or help ’em in their wicked ways, may I be
riddled through and through, loike as if I was a target!”
“Since—when have you—become so virtuous?” panted out Tregenna feebly.
“Since one of ’em, nay two of ’em served me a dirty trick, sir,”
answered Tom, fiercely. “Ask me no more, sir; for sure I don’t want for
to let out what I’ve in my moind!”
“How long—have I lain here?”
“Not more’n the space of half a minute, sir. And no more you mustn’t. I
be going for to call them at the Parsonage.”
“Nay, nay, Tom, I should alarm them, in this plight.”
“Never fear for that, sir. It would alarm ’em more for you to die!”
And Tom hobbled away in the direction of the vicar’s house at a great
rate.
As he lay there in the cold air, Tregenna was vaguely conscious of a
feeling of satisfaction that Gardener Tom had turned to honest ways.
And then his mind began to wander again. He was recalled to full
consciousness by a delicious sense of ease and peace, and by feeling
the touch of the hand he loved the best in the world on his forehead.
A few minutes afterwards he was lying on a hastily made bed in the
vicarage parlor.
Tregenna lay ill for some weeks; for the wound inflicted by Bill’s
bullet was a serious one, and he had lost so much blood before he was
discovered by Tom, that there was a fear lest he might not be able to
stand the drain.
Thanks to the tender nursing he received, however, at Joan’s loving
hands, he presently began to mend. And it was when all danger was past
that he learnt the fate of the two smugglers whom he had imprisoned in
the vault beneath the church.
Jack Price had managed to escape, but had had the misfortune to run
straight into the arms of the brigadier and his soldiers, who now
patrolled the country round Hurst with more assiduity than before.
Being recognized as one of the most prominent of the smugglers, he
was seized, carried to Rye, and hanged within a fortnight; for such
offenders as he had scant shrift in those times.
Bill Plunder was found dead in the vault, having been killed by the
shot Tregenna had fired at him in exchange for his own.
An enormous quantity of smuggled goods which had been secreted in the
vault, were confiscated by the authorities: for even Squire Waldron had
begun to see that his reign of laxity was over.
Not a sign of the coffins was to be found, however; and a thrill of
horror ran through every one at the thought that the smugglers had
even got rid of these in order to make way for more plunder.
A deep peace seemed to fall over the whole neighborhood after the death
of Jack Price and Bill Plunder. The brigadier flattered himself that he
should get promotion for his energy, and Tregenna felt that his task
was done, and that the time was convenient for the retirement he had
promised the vicar.
So fully satisfied were the authorities in London that the mission
of soldiers and revenue-men had been thoroughly and effectively
accomplished, that the brigade was shortly withdrawn from the
neighborhood, and the cutter was sent to another part of the coast.
It was not until after his withdrawal from the service, when the
snowdrops were peeping above the ground, that Tregenna came down to
Hurst, and put up at the best inn, ready for his marriage with Joan on
the morrow. It was to have been a very quiet wedding; but Joan had made
herself so much beloved in the countryside that, long before the time
for the ceremony had arrived, the whole churchyard and the grass round
were thick with a dense throng of people.
Gardener Tom was there with a huge nosegay of hothouse flowers,
speaking loudly his hatred and detestation of the whole sex, with the
exception of Miss Joan.
Squire Waldron and Bertram were there, in smart hunt colors, waiting to
welcome the bride.
The ladies from Hurst Court were there, simpering and wondering how
the vicar’s daughter could be so selfish as to leave her father! They
wouldn’t have done it, not they!
Men, women, and children from Hurst and the villages round were there
with their snowdrops, to strew on the path before sweet Mistress Joan.
All was peace, and brightness, and happiness; and the winter sun came
out in her honor as blushing Joan, tall and handsome, in her plain
white dress and veil, came from the Parsonage, leaning on her father’s
arm.
The service was over; the blessing had been spoken on the young people,
and Tregenna was leading his bride down the little aisle, when a sound
reached the ears of all present which froze the blood of some of them.
It was a peal of loud, mocking laughter, in a well-known voice.
It came into the church from the wide porch, and echoed through the
building.
“Ann!” cried Tregenna, under his breath.
“No, no, not Ann; but Jem Bax!” cried the well-known voice, in clear
and ringing tones.
And into the bright light of the doorway strode Ann, in her lad’s
dress, with a keg slung in front and one behind, in approved smuggler
fashion.
“Heaven bless you both, for a pair of innocent lambs,” she cried,
raising one hand as if in benediction. “See, Ben, do not they make a
monstrous pretty pair? Prettier than you and me, when they made us one!”
And the burly form of Ben the Blast, with his kegs slung over his
shoulder, came into view behind her.
Everybody was too much taken aback, too much amazed at the deception
Ann had practised, and at her unflagging audacity, to attempt to touch
either her or the smuggler at her side. With another laugh and a wave
of the hand, they both left the church porch, sprang on the back of a
stout horse which was waiting at the gate, and were away over the marsh
to the new haunt they had made, before Tregenna had had time to recover
his wits.
He had done with her, forever; but there was still trouble in store for
the representatives of law and order, while the daring, wicked spirit
walked the earth in the flesh.
“Are you jealous still, Joan?” whispered Tregenna, in his bride’s ear.
“No. But—I’m thankful she’s married, Harry,” was the fervent answer.
“And I,” returned Tregenna with equal fervor, “am thankful ’tis no
longer my duty to cope with her and her tricks. For, faith, I believe
she’s in league with the very powers of darkness!”
THE END.
—————————————————— End of Book ——————————————————
Transcriber’s Note (continued)
Minor typographical errors that appear in the book have been corrected
in this transcription.
Unusual or variable spelling and hyphenation have been left unchanged
except as noted below.
Page 91 — “oft” changed to “off” (a little way off, in the
direction of)
Page 127 — “fain” changed to “feign” (“Nay, why should she feign?”)
Page 148 — “vantange” changed to “vantage” (in his place of vantage)
Page 168 — “O’dsfish” changed to “’Od’s fish” (’Od’s fish; Oi’d never
wish a man worse)
Page 175 — “I’ve got you fast” is all italic.
Page 225 — “celler” changed to “cellar” (the trap-door to the cellar)
Page 290 — “courtsey” changed to “curtsey” (cold and distant curtsey
she gave him)