Before many hours had passed the Captain's words proved correct. The
clouds gathered over the tors, and there was a tremendous storm a
thousand feet above the Point. The lightning flashed and struck and
splintered the rugged old masses of granite; the thunder roared, and
there was a perfect deluge of rain; while down near the sea, though it
was intensely hot, not a drop fell, and the evening came on soft and
cool.
"Solly, my lad," cried the Captain, rubbing his hands, "we shall have
the fall roaring before midnight; but don't sit up to listen to it."
"Cert'n'y not, sir," said the old sailor.
"Your watch will begin at daybreak, when you will hoist the signal for
Captain Lawrence."
"Ay, ay, sir!"
"And keep eye to west'ard on and off all day, to try if you can sight
the frigate."
"Ay, ay, sir!"
"And in the course of the morning you will go quietly round and tell the
men to rendezvous here about eight, when you will serve out the arms."
"Ay, ay, sir."
"The good stout oak cudgels I had cut; and if we're lucky, my lad, we
shall have as nice and pleasant a fight as ever we two had in our
lives."
"Quite a treat, sir," said the old sailor; "and I hope we shall be able
to pay our debts."
The Captain was in the highest of glee all the evening, and he shook his
son's hand very warmly when they parted for bed.
About one o'clock Nic was aroused from a deep sleep by a sharp knocking
at his door.
"Awake, Nic?" came in the familiar accents.
"No, father. Yes, father. Is anything wrong?"
"Wrong? No, my boy; right! Hear the fall?"
"No, father; I was sound asleep."
"Open your window and put out your head, boy. The water's coming down
and roaring like thunder. Good-night."
Nic slipped out of bed, did as he was told, and, as he listened, there
was the deep, musical, booming sound of the fall seeming to fill the
air, while from one part of the ravine a low, rushing noise told that
the river must be pretty full.
Nic stood listening for some time before closing his window and
returning to bed, to lie wakeful and depressed, feeling a strange kind
of foreboding, as if some serious trouble was at hand. It was not that
he was afraid or shrank from the contest which might in all probability
take place the next night, though he knew that it would be desperate--
for, on the contrary, he felt excited and quite ready to join in the
fray; but he was worried about his father, and the difficulty he knew he
would have in keeping him out of danger. He was in this awkward
position, too: what he would like to do would be to get Solly and a
couple of their stoutest men to act as bodyguard to protect his father;
but, if he attempted such a thing, the chances were that the Captain
would look upon it as cowardice, and order them off to the thick of the
cudgel-play.
Just as he reached this point he fell asleep.
Nic found the Captain down first next morning, looking as pleased as a
boy about to start for his holidays.
"You're a pretty fellow," he cried. "Why, I've been up hours, and went
right to the falls. Pool's full, Nic, my boy, the salmon are up, and
it's splendid, lad."
"What is, father?"
"Something else is coming up."
"What?"
"Those scoundrels are on the _qui vive_. I was resting on one of the
rough stone seats, when, as I sat hidden among the trees, I caught sight
of something on the far side of the pool--a man creeping cautiously down
to spy out the state of the water."
"Pete Burge, father?" cried Nic eagerly.
"Humph! No; I hardly caught a glimpse of his face, but it was too short
for that scoundrel. I think it was that thick-set, humpbacked rascal
they call Dee."
"And did he see you, father?"
"No: I sat still, my boy, and watched till he slunk away again. Nic,
lad, we shall have them here to-night, and we must be ready."
"Yes, father, if Captain Lawrence sends his men."
"Whether he does or no, sir. I can't sit still and know that my salmon
are being stolen. Come--breakfast! Oh, here's Solly.--Here, you, sir,
what about those two signal flags? Hoist them directly."
"Run 'em up, sir, as soon as it was light."
"Good. Then, now, keep a lookout for the frigate." The day wore away
with no news of the ship being in the offing, and the Captain began to
fume and fret, so that Nic made an excuse to get away and look out,
relieving Solly, stationing himself by the flagstaff and scanning the
horizon till his eyes grew weary and his head ached.
It was about six o'clock when he was summoned to dinner by Solly, who
took his place, and Nic went and joined his father.
"Needn't speak," said the old man bitterly; "I know; Lawrence hasn't
come. We'll have to do it ourselves."
Nic was silent, and during the meal his father hardly spoke a word.
Just as they were about to rise, Solly entered the room, and the Captain
turned to him eagerly.
"I was going to send for you, my lad," he said. "Captain Lawrence must
be away, and we shall have to trap the scoundrels ourselves. How many
men can we muster?"
"Ten, sir."
"Not half enough," said the Captain; "but they are strong, staunch
fellows, and we have right on our side. Ten against twenty or thirty.
Long odds; but we've gone against heavier odds than that in our time,
Solly."
"Ay, sir, that we have."
"We must lie in wait and take them by surprise when they're scattered,
my lads. But what luck! what luck! Now if Lawrence had only kept faith
with me we could have trapped the whole gang."
"Well, your honour, why not?" said Solly sharply.
"Why not?"
"He'll be here before we want him."
"What?" cried Nic. "Is the frigate in sight?"
"In sight, sir--and was when you left the signal station."
"No," said Nic sharply; "the only vessel in sight then was a big
merchantman with her yards all awry."
"That's so, sir, and she gammoned me. The skipper's had her streak
painted out, and a lot of her tackle cast loose, to make her look like a
lubberly trader; but it's the frigate, as I made out at last, coming
down with a spanking breeze, and in an hour's time she'll be close
enough to send her men ashore."
The Captain sprang up and caught his son's hand, to ring it hard.
"Huzza, Nic!" he cried excitedly. "This is going to be a night of
nights."
It was.