The rain came, as Nic had said it would, and as it does come up in the
high hills of stony Dartmoor. Then the tiny rills swelled and became
rivulets, the rivulets rivers, and the rivers floods. The trickling
fall at the Captain's swelled up till the water, which looked like
porter, thundered down and filled the pool, and the salmon came rushing
up from the sea till there were as many as ever. Then, as the rainy
time passed away, Captain Revel made his plans, for he felt sure that
there would be another raid by the gang who had attacked his place
before, headed by Pete Burge and a deformed man of herculean strength,
who came with a party of ne'er-do-weels from the nearest town.
"That rascal Pete will be here with his gang," said the Captain, "and
we'll be ready for them."
But the speaker was doing Pete Burge an injustice; for, though several
raids had been made in the neighbourhood, and pools cleared out, Pete
had hung back from going to the Captain's for some reason or another,
and suffered a good deal of abuse in consequence, one result being a
desperate fight with Humpy Dee, the deformed man, who after a time
showed the white feather, and left Pete victorious but a good deal
knocked about.
So, feeling sure that he was right, Captain Revel made his plans; and,
unwillingly enough, but with the full intention of keeping his father
out of danger, Nic set to work as his father's lieutenant and carried
out his orders.
The result was that every servant was armed with a stout cudgel, and
half-a-dozen sturdy peasants of the neighbourhood were enlisted to come,
willingly enough, to help to watch and checkmate the rough party from
the town, against whom a bitter feeling of enmity existed for depriving
the cottagers from getting quietly a salmon for themselves.
The arrangements were made for the next night, a stranger having been
seen inspecting the river and spying about among the fir-trees at the
back of the pool.
But no one came, and at daybreak the Captain's crew, as he called it,
went back to bed.
The following night did not pass off so peacefully, for soon after
twelve, while the watchers, headed by the Captain and Nic, were well
hidden about the pool, the enemy came, and, after lighting their
lanthorns, began to net the salmon.
Then a whistle rang out, a desperate attack was made upon them, and the
Captain nearly had a fit. For his party was greatly outnumbered. The
raiders fought desperately, and they went off at last fishless; but not
until the Captain's little force had been thoroughly beaten and put to
flight, with plenty of cuts and bruises amongst them, Nic's left arm
hanging down nearly helpless.
"But never mind, Nic," said the Captain, rubbing his bruised hand as he
spoke. "I knocked one of the rascals down, and they got no fish; and I
don't believe they'll come again."
But they did, the very next night, and cleared the pool once more, for
the watchers were all abed; and in the morning the Captain was frantic
in his declarations of what he would do.
To Nic's great delight, just when his father was at his worst, and, as
his old body-servant said, "working himself into a fantigue about a bit
o' fish," there was a diversion.
Nic was sitting at breakfast, getting tired of having salmon at every
meal--by the ears, not by the mouth--when suddenly there was the dull
thud of a big gun out at sea, and Captain Revel brought his fist down
upon the table with a bang like an echo of the report.
"Lawrence!" he cried excitedly. "Here, Nic, ring the bell, and tell
Solly to go and hoist the flag."
The bell was rung, and a maid appeared.
"Where's Solly?" cried the Captain angrily.
"Plee, sir, he's gone running up to the cliff to hoist the flag," said
the girl nervously.
"Humph! that will do," said the Captain, and the maid gladly beat a
retreat.--"Not a bad bit of discipline that, Nic. Wonder what brings
Lawrence here! Ring that bell again, boy, and order them to reset the
breakfast-table. He'll be here in half-an-hour, hungry. He always was
a hungry chap."
The maid appeared, received her orders, and was about to go, when she
was arrested.
"Here, Mary, what is there that can be cooked for Captain Lawrence's
breakfast?"
"The gardener has just brought in a salmon he found speared and left by
the river, sir."
The Captain turned purple with rage.
"Don't you ever dare to say salmon to me again, woman!" he roared.
"No, sir; cert'n'y not, sir," faltered the frightened girl, turning
wonderingly to Nic, her eyes seeming to say, "Please, sir, is master
going mad?"
"Yes; tell the cook to fry some salmon cutlets," continued the Captain;
and then apologetically to his son: "Lawrence likes fish."
As the maid backed out of the room the Captain rose from the table.
"Come along, my boy," he said; "we'll finish our breakfast with him."
Nic followed his father into the hall, and then through the garden and
up to the edge of the cliff, passing William Solly on his way back after
hoisting the flag, which was waving in the sea-breeze.
"Quite right, William," said the Captain as the old sailor saluted and
passed on. "Nothing like discipline, Nic, my boy. Ha! You ought to
have been a sailor."
The next minute they had reached the flagstaff, from whence they could
look down at the mouth of the river, off which one of the king's ships
was lying close in, and between her and the shore there was a boat
approaching fast.
As father and son watched, it was evident that they were seen, for some
one stood up in the stern-sheets and waved a little flag, to which Nic
replied by holding his handkerchief to be blown out straight by the
breeze.
"Ha! Very glad he has come, Nic," said the Captain. "Fine fellow, Jack
Lawrence! Never forgets old friends. Now I'll be bound to say he can
give us good advice about what to do with those scoundrels."
"Not much in his way, father, is it?" said Nic.
"What, sir?" cried the Captain fiercely. "Look here, boy; I never knew
anything which was not in Jack Lawrence's way. Why, when we were young
lieutenants together on board the _Sovereign_, whether it was fight or
storm he was always ready with a good idea. He will give us--me--well,
us--good advice, I'm sure. There he is, being carried ashore. Go and
meet him, my boy. I like him to see that he is welcome. Tell him I'd
have come down myself, but the climb back is a bit too much for me."
Nic went off at a trot along the steep track which led down to the
shore, and in due time met the hale, vigorous, grey-haired officer
striding uphill in a way which made Nic feel envious on his father's
behalf.
"Well, Nic, my boy," cried the visitor, "how's the dad? Well? That's
right. So are you," he continued, gazing searchingly at the lad with
his keen, steely-grey eyes. "Grown ever so much since I saw you last.
Ah, boy, it's a pity you didn't come to sea!"
Then he went on chatting about being just come upon the Plymouth station
training men for the king's ships, and how he hoped to see a good deal
now of his old friend and his son.
The meeting between the brother-officers was boisterous, but there was
something almost pathetic in the warmth with which they grasped hands,
for they had first met in the same ship as middies, and many a time
during Captain Lawrence's visits Nic had sat and listened to their
recollections of the dangers they had gone through and their boyish
pranks.
William Solly was in the porch ready to salute the visitor, and to look
with pride at the fine, manly old officer's greeting. He made a point,
too, of stopping in the room to wait table, carefully supplying all
wants, and smiling with pleasure as he saw how the pleasant meal was
enjoyed by the guest.
"We were lying off the river late last night, but I wouldn't disturb
you," he said. "I made up my mind, though, to come to breakfast. Hah!
What delicious fried salmon!"
"_Hur-r-ur_!" growled Captain Revel, and Solly cocked his eye knowingly
at Nic.
"Hallo! What's the matter?" cried the visitor.
"The salmon--the salmon," growled Captain Revel, frowning and tapping
the table.
"De-licious, man! Have some?--Here, Solly, hand the dish to your
master."
"_Bur-r-ur_!" roared the Captain. "Take it away--take it away, or I
shall be in another of my rages, and they're not good for me, Jack--not
good for me."
"Why, what is it, old lad?"
"Tell him, Nic--tell him," cried Captain Revel; and his son explained
the cause of his father's irritation.
"Why, that was worrying you last time I was here--let me see, a year
ago."
"Yes, Jack; and it has been worrying me ever since," cried Captain
Revel. "You see, I mustn't cut any of the scoundrels down, and I
mustn't shoot them. The law would be down on me."
"Yes, of course; but you might make the law come down on them."
"Can't, my lad. Summonses are no use."
"Catch them in the act, make them prisoners, and then see what the law
will do."
"But we can't catch them, Jack; they're too many for us," cried the
Captain earnestly. "They come twenty or thirty strong, and we've had
fight after fight with them, but they knock us to pieces. Look at
Solly's forehead; they gave him that cut only a few nights ago."
The old sailor blushed like a girl.
"That's bad," said the visitor, after giving the man a sharp look.
"What sort of fellows are they?"
"Big, strong, idle vagabonds. Scum of the town and the country round."
"Indeed!" said the visitor, raising his eyes. "They thrash you, then,
because you are not strong enough?"
"Yes; that's it, Jack. Now, what am I to do?"
"Let me see," said the visitor, tightening his lips. "They only come
when the pool's full of salmon, you say, after a bit of rain in the
moors?"
"Yes; that's it, Jack."
"Then you pretty well know when to expect them?"
"Yes; that's right."
"How would it be, then, if you sent me word in good time in the morning?
Or, no--look here, old fellow--I shall know when there is rain on the
moor, and I'll come round in this direction from the port. I'm cruising
about the Channel training a lot of men. You hoist a couple of flags on
the staff some morning, and that evening at dusk I'll land a couple of
boats' crews, and have them marched up here to lay up with you and turn
the tables upon the rascals. How will that do?"
Solly forgot discipline, and bent down to give one of his legs a
tremendous slap, while his master made the breakfast things dance from
his vigorous bang on the table.
"There, Nic," he cried triumphantly; "what did I say? Jack Lawrence was
always ready to show the way when we were on our beam-ends. Jack, my
dear old messmate," he cried heartily, as he stretched out his
hand--"your fist."