There was something very grim and suggestive about the captain's
behaviour to the two boys later on towards evening, when he came and
stood glaring down at them, where they sat in the sand. He had said a
few words to one of the men, who went up into the back of the cavern
while the other waited; and Vince noted that there was a splashing sound
round the corner of the buttress which supported one side of the great
arch, so that he was not surprised directly after to see the prow of a
boat appear, to be run in and beached upon the sand.
Vince looked up inquiringly when the smuggling captain came and stood
before him; but the man did not speak--he only glared down, apparently
with the idea that he was frightening the lads horribly. Vince did not
shrink, for he did not feel frightened, only troubled about home and the
despondency there, as the time went by without news of their fate. For
it was evident to him that the time had come for them to be taken on
board ready for the lugger to sail.
The second man came back with some fine line in his hand.
"_Vite_--tight!" said the captain laconically.
"You're not going to tie us?" said Vince, flushing.
"Yais, bose togezaire," said the Frenchman, with a grin of satisfaction
at seeing the boy moved to indignant protest.
"But if we say we will not try to escape?" cried Vince.
"I vill not believes you. _Non, mon ami_, ve have enough of ze _peine_
to _attraper_ you again. Two slippery _garcons_. I tie you bose like
ze mutton sheep, and zen if von shump to run avays he pull ze ozaire
down. _Vous comprenez_?"
"Oh yes, I comprong," cried Vince contemptuously. "Just like a
Frenchman. An Englishman would not be afraid of a boy."
"Vat!" cried the captain, showing his teeth, as he raised his hand to
strike--when, quick as lightning, the boy threw himself into an attitude
of defence; but the men seized him and dragged his arms behind his back.
"That's right, coward!" cried Vince, half mad now with excitement.
At the word coward the captain's face looked black as night, his
right-hand was thrust into his breast pocket, and he drew out and cocked
a small pistol, while Mike darted to his companion's side, laid his
hands across Vince's breast, and faced the captain; but he was seized by
one of the men, who passed the line about his wrists after it had been
dexterously fastened round those of his fellow-prisoner.
"Never mind, Mike; but I like that, old chap!" cried Vince. "Well done!
Let's show him what English boys are like: he daren't shoot us. Do you
hear, Jacques? _vous n'oses pas_."
"Aha! You begin by stumble blunder bad French, you _canaille_ boy. I
not dare shoot you?"
"No," said Vince defiantly, as the pistol was presented full at his
face. "You dare not, you great coward!"
"Aha, _encore_? You call me coward, _une insulte! Mais bah_! It is
only a silly boy. Tie zem bose togezaire, my lad, an trow zem in ze
boat. Silly boy! Like two shicken _volatile_ go to be roace for
dinnaire. _Non, arretez_; stop, my lad. Coward! It was _une insulte_.
Now you apologise me."
"I won't," said Vince sturdily: "you are a coward to tie up two boys
like this."
The black wrath in the Frenchman's face at these words made Mike shiver,
and he pressed closer to Vince as the pistol was raised once more.
"Don't--don't," he whispered. "Say something: we are so helpless."
"Aha! I hear vat he say. Yais, you apologise me, sare."
"I won't," said Vince, who, with nerves strung by the agony he felt at
his wrists, which were being cut into by the cord, was ready to dare and
say anything.
"You vill not?" cried the captain, slowly uncocking the pistol, as his
face resumed its ordinary aspect.
"No, I--will--not!" cried Vince. "Put it away. You dare not fire."
"_Non_; it would be a pity. I nevaire like to shoot good stuff. You
are a brave boy, and I vill make you a fine man. And you too, _mon
garcon_."
He laid his hands on the boys' shoulders, and pressed them hard, smiling
as he said,--
"_Non_, I sink I am not a coward, _mon enfant_, but I tie you bose up
vis ze hant behint, so you sall not run avay. Aha! Eh? You not run
avay vis ze hant, _mais_ vis ze foot? _Eh bien: n'importe_: it does not
mattaire. You ugly boy," he continued, striking Vince a sharp rap in
the chest with the back of the hand, "I like you. _Yais_. You have
saucy tongue. You are a bouledogue boy. I vill see you two 'ave a
fight some days. Now, my lad, take zem bose into ze boat. Ah, _yah,
bete cochon_--big peegue!" he roared, as he examined the way in which
the boys' wrists were tied behind their backs. "I tell you to lash zem
fast. I did not say, `Cut off ze hant.' Cast zem off."
The man who had secured Vince sulkily obeyed, and the captain looked on
till the line was untied, leaving the boys' wrists with white marks
round and blackened swellings on either side.
"Ah, he is a fool," said the captain, taking up first one and then the
other hand. "Vy you do not squeak and pipe ze eye?"
Vince frowned, but made no reply.
"Zere, valk down to ze boat vis me. Say you vill not run avay."
"No: I mean to escape," said Vince.
"Bah! It is sillee. You cannot, _mon garcon_. Come, ze _parole
d'honneur_. Be a man."
Vince glanced at Mike, who gave him an imploring look, which seemed to
say: "Pray give it."
"Yais," said the captain, smiling: "_Parole d'honneur_. If you try to
run _il faut_ shooter zis time."
"_Parole d'honneur_ for to-day," said Vince. "After to-day I shall try
to escape."
"It is _bon_--good," said the captain, laughing. "After to-day--yais.
Zere, valk you down to ze boat. I like you bose. If you had been cry
boy, and go down on your knees, and zay, `Oh, pray don't,' I kick you.
_En avant_!"
He clapped his hand upon Vince's shoulder, and walked with both to the
boat, signing to them to enter and go right forward, where they seated
themselves in the bows while he took his place in the stern.
"Oh, Cinder!" whispered Mike, with a look of admiration at his friend,
"I wish I'd had the heart to speak to him like that."
"What?" whispered back Vince, "why, I never felt so frightened in my
life. I thought he was going to shoot."
"I don't believe it," said Mike quietly. "I say, now let's see how they
manage to get out of this great whirling pool."
They were not kept waiting long, for the boat was thrust off, sent into
the stream, and away they went, skirting the long, low rock which rose
in their way; and then, just as it seemed that they were going to be
sunk by the tremendous rush of water passing in between two huge masses,
the boat was thrust into another sharply marked current, hung in
suspense for a few moments, and then glided along the backwater and out
at last into the pool. Here the glassy surface streaked with numerous
lines told of the rapid currents following their well-marked courses,
and the eddies and reflections of the water known to the men and taken
advantage of, so that the vessel's side was reached with ease.
As they neared the side the captain, who had been keenly watching the
boys and reading their thoughts, came slowly past his men, so quietly
that Vince and Mike started on hearing him speak.
"You could manage ze boat now and take him vere you vill? _Non, mes
enfans_. It take long time to find ze vay. I sink you bose drown last
night, but you have _bonne fortune_ and escape. But you get avay till I
say go? Nevaire! Shump."
He pointed upward, and the lads climbed aboard, looking wistfully to
right and left as they recalled their adventures along the side in the
dark, and saw old Daygo's boat hanging by her painter close under the
stern.
"Took a lot of trouble for nothing, Cinder," said Mike sadly.
"Yes: can't always win," replied Vince. "Never mind: I'm glad we
tried."
Mike had not the heart to say "So am I," though he felt that he ought to
have done so; but, catching sight of the old fisherman leaning over the
bulwark forward, he said instead,--
"There's that old wretch again! Oh, how I should like to--"
He did not say what, but turned his back upon him in disgust.
"Yes--a beauty!" said Vince, scowling. "I say, Mike, no wonder old Joe
was always so well off that he never had to work. Pst! here's the
skipper."
"_Non, mon ami_--ze capitaine. _Eh bien_--ah, vell! you are on board
again. I sall lock you down upon ze powdaire again and keep you
prisonaire? My faith, no! It is vord of honnaire to-day, and to-day
last _vingt-quatre heures_--till zis time to-morrow: you understand?"
"Yes," said Vince; and then, frankly, "I beg your pardon, skip--"
"Eh?"
"Captain," said Vince quickly: "I beg your pardon, captain, for calling
you a coward."
The Frenchman looked at him searchingly, and then clapped down both
hands on the boy's shoulders and held him firmly.
"_Bon_!" he said; "_bon_! Zat is all gone now. I sall not call you out
and say vill you have ze pistol or ze arm _blanc_--ze sword. You bose
come dine vis me _ce soir_--zis evening, and you not make fool of ze
comestible, as ve call him, eh? Now go valk about ze deck. You like to
see ze vay out? No; ve leave all zat to my good _ami_, Joseph Daygo.
He take ze _Belle-Marie_ out to sea vile ve dine. It is ze secret know
only to Joseph. I could not do him myselfs."
This only increased Vince's desire to discover by what means the lugger
was piloted out from its moorings beneath the towering rocks, where it
was completely shut-in, though it seemed that there was a channel behind
the rock which spread out in front.
Sunset was drawing near, and it became evident that the time was
approaching for a start to be made, for the boat in which they came from
the cave had been hoisted up to the davits, and the men were busy
preparing for hoisting sails. The hatches were in their places, and the
vessel looked wonderfully orderly, being very different in aspect from
those of its class. In fact, from stem to stern she was nearly as neat
as a king's ship.
Meanwhile Joe Daygo kept close to the bulwark, turning from time to time
to note how the men were progressing, and then leaning over the bulwark
again to gaze at the perpendicular wall of rock before him, which
towered up to a great height and went apparently straight down into the
sea. "I know," said Vince at last, in a whisper. "Know what?"
"Joe Daygo is watching that streak of white paint on the rock over
yonder."
"I see no streak of white paint," said Mike. "Yes, I do. But what of
that?"
"It's his mark," said Vince. "He's going to wait till the tide touches
that, and then going to cast off."
"Think so?"
"Sure of it."
But Vince had no opportunity for waiting to see. The glassy current was
still a couple of inches below the dimly seen white mark, when there was
a peculiar odour which came from a tureen that the cook carried along
the deck towards the cabin; and almost at the same moment a hand was
laid upon the boy's shoulder.
"Come," said the captain; "it is time for ze dinnaire. You are bose
hungry?--yais, I know."
Vince would have liked to decline, so strong was his desire to study the
key to the entrance of the secret little port; but to refuse to go down
was impossible, and he preceded his host through the cabin-hatch, where
a swinging lamp was burning and the deadlights were closed so that not a
gleam could escape. The tureen steamed on the table, they were in no
danger, and healthy young appetite prevailed, for the soup was good even
if the biscuits were flinty and hard.
As for the captain, it seemed absurd to associate him with smuggling or
pistols, for he played the host in the most amiable manner when fish
succeeded the soup; but as it was being discussed there were hurried
sounds on deck. Men were running to and fro; then came the peculiar
dull, rasping sound of cables being hauled in through hawser holes, and
a slight motion told that they were starting.
Vince ceased eating, and his eyes were involuntarily turned to the side,
when the captain said laughingly,--
"It is nozing, my younger _ami_, and ze bulkhead side is not glass: you
cannot see nozing. You vant to know? Vell, my sheep is in ze sharge of
ze pilot, and ze men cast off. If he take her out quite vell, sank you,
ve sall soon be at sea. If he make ze grand error he put my sheep on ze
rock, vich make ze hole and you sall hear ze vater run in. You bose can
svim? Yais? Good, but you need not try: you stay down here vis me and
not take trouble, but go to ze bottom like ze brave _homme_, for ze big
tide on'y take you avay and knock you against ze rock. Now eat you
feesh."
It was not a pleasant addition to the boys' dinner, but they went on
listening in the intervals of the captain's many speeches, and picturing
to themselves how the great lugger was being carefully piloted along a
sharp current and steered here and there, apparently doubling upon her
course more than once. But by the time the boiled fowl was nearly eaten
there was a steady heeling over, following the sound of the hoisting of
a sail. Then the vessel heeled over a little more, and seemed to dance
for a minute in rough water, as if she were passing over some awkward
place. The captain smiled.
"My sheep she is lively," he said. "She sink it vas time not to be tied
by ze head and tail, so she commence to dance. Zat is a vairy bad
place, but Joseph is a grand pilot; he know vat to do, and I am nevaire
in his way."
Just then there was a dull thud, as if a mass of water had struck the
side, and the vessel heeled over more than ever, righted herself, and
then rose and rode over a wave, plunging down and again gliding along
upon a level keel. "Eat, eat, _mes amis_," said the captain. "You do
not mean that you have _le mal-de-mer_?"
"Oh no," said Vince quickly, as if ashamed to be suspected of such a
weakness. "We don't mind the sea; besides, it isn't rough. We're not
going over a bar of sand?"
"_Non_: a bar of rocks, vere Joseph can take us safely. Anozaire man?
_Non, non_."
They could not grasp much, as the dinner drew now to an end, and no
doubt their imaginations played them false to a great extent; but they
thoroughly realised that for a few minutes the great lugger was being
slowly navigated through a most intricate channel, where the current ran
furiously; after that more sail was made, and the regular motion of the
vessel told them that they were getting out into the open sea.
All at once the door was opened, and old Daygo appeared.
"Aha! you are finish, _mon ami_?"
Daygo nodded his head and uttered a low grunt.
"Good. I come on deck."
Old Joe turned and went up the ladder, followed by the captain; and then
Mike dashed after them.
"What are you going to do?" cried Vince. But Mike made no reply; and
the other followed on deck, anxious to see what was going to take place,
for that Mike had some project was very evident.
As Vince reached the deck he saw that Mike was at the leeward side,
where a couple of men stood by the rope which held the pilot's boat,
while the captain and the old fisherman were walking right forward,
talking earnestly. The lugger was sailing gently along half a mile from
the shore in the direction of the south point; and Vince's heart leaped
and then sank as he faintly made out one of the familiar landmarks on
the highest part of the island, but he had no time for indulging in
emotion just then, for the captain turned suddenly and old Joe made for
his boat.
"Mike isn't going to jump in and try to go with him, is he?" thought
Vince; and a pang shot through him at the very thought of such a
cowardly desertion. "No," he added to himself; "he wouldn't do that."
Vince was right, for all he did was to rush at Daygo, catch him by the
shoulder and whisper something.
The old fisherman turned, stared, and Mike repeated as far as Vince
could make out his former question, while the captain stood a little way
back and looked on.
Just then Daygo growled out "No!" angrily, and thrust Mike away so
roughly that the boy staggered back and nearly fell; but before the old
man could reach the bulwark, Mike had recovered himself, leaped at him,
and delivered such a kick, that the pilot plunged forward half over the
bulwark, and then turned savagely to take revenge upon his assailant.
But the captain had advanced, and he said something sharply, which made
Daygo hurry over the bulwark and drop down into his boat. One of the
men cast off the rope and threw it after him, and the next moment she
was astern, with the old man standing upright, his hands to each side of
his mouth; and he bellowed out,--
"Yah! Good luck to you both! You'll never see this Crag agen."
Then the darkness began to swallow up his small boat, and the great
three-masted lugger glided onward--where?
Mike turned sharply, expecting to be seized by the captain; but the
latter had his back to him, and went forward to give orders for another
sail to be hoisted, while the boys went involuntarily to the side to
gaze at the Crag.
"What was it you asked Joe?" said Vince.
"Not what you thought," replied Mike rather bitterly.
"Why, what did I think?"
"That I was begging him to take me in the boat."
"No, I didn't," said Vince sharply. "I thought at first that you'd run
up to jump in, but directly after I said to myself that you wouldn't be
such a sneak. What did you say to him?"
"I told him my father would give him a hundred pounds, and that he
should never say anything to Joe, if he'd go and tell them directly
where we are."
"And he wouldn't. Well, I'm glad you kicked him, for shoving you away
like that."
"I should be," replied Mike, "if he wasn't such an old man."
"He isn't an old man," said Vince hotly: "he's an old wretch, without a
bit of manliness in him."
"All right, then; I'm glad I kicked him. But never mind Joe Daygo,
Vince. It's getting darker, and the old Crag is seeming to die away.
Oh, Cinder, old chap, is it all true? Are we being taken away like
this?"
Vince could not trust himself to speak, but leaned over the bulwark,
resting his chin upon his thumbs, and shading the sides of his face--
partly to conceal its workings, which was not necessary in the darkness,
partly to shut off the side-light and see the island more easily.
And neither was this necessary, for there were no sidelights, and the
Crag was now so dim that had he not known it was there it would have
been invisible; but he preserved it all mentally, and thought of the
pleasant home, with the saddened faces there, of the happy days he had
spent, and now for the first time fully realised what a joyous boyhood
he had passed in the rocky wildly picturesque old place, with no greater
trouble to disturb his peaceful life than some puzzling problem or a
trivial fit of illness. All so bright, so joyous, so happy,--and now
gone, perhaps, for ever; and some strange, wild life to come, but what
kind of existence he could not grasp.
Naturally enough, Mike's thoughts ran in the same channel, but he gave
them utterance; and Vince, as he stood there, heard him saying
piteously,--
"Good-bye, dear old home! I never knew before what you really were.
Good-bye--good-bye!" And then, passionately--"Oh, Vince, Vince! what
have we done to deserve all this? Where are we going now?"
"To bed, _mes amis_," said the captain, slapping them both on the
shoulders and rudely interrupting their thoughts. "Come: I take you
myself. Not over ze powdaire now. I vill not tempt you to _faire
sauter_--make jump ze _chasse-maree_--blow up ze sheep, eh? My faith,
no! But you take ze good counsel, _mes_ boys. You go to your bunk like
ze good shile, and have long sleep. You get out of the deadlight vis ze
sheep in full sail. You go ovaire-board bose of you, and I am vair
sorry for ze _bonnes_ mammas."
"Doesn't seem like it," said Vince stoutly, "taking us off prisoners
like this."
"Prisonaires! Faith of a good man! You sink I treat you like
prisonaires, and have you to dinnaire and talk to you vis _bonnes
conseilles_ like ze papa?"
"You are taking us away, and making every one who cares for us think we
are dead."
"_C'est dommage_--it is a great pitee, my young friend; but, you see, I
have a large propertee at ze caverne. It is vort tousand of pounds, and
ze place is vair useful to me and ze _confrere_ who come to take it
somevere else."
"What, are there more of you?" blurted out Vince.
"Eh? You nevaire mind. But I cannot part vis my store, and I vant ze
place to go to ven I bring a cargo."
"But we'll promise you on our words that we will not betray it to any
one, if you set us ashore."
"Aha! Not to have anozaire kick at _notre bon_ Joseph, eh?"
"No, not even to serve Joe Daygo out," said Vince. "An old wretch! But
he deserves it."
"And faith of a gentlemans, on your word of _honneur_, you vould not
tell vere ze contraband is kept?"
"On our honour, as gentlemen, we would not: would we, Mike?"
"No," was the eager reply.
"I believe you bose," said the captain. "But you could not keep your
vort. It is impossible."
"But we would," said Vince.
"You vould try, _mon garcon_, but you vould be _oblige_ to tell.
Listen--von vort for all. I have faith in you bose, but no, it cannot
be. You cannot go back, so you must act like ze man now."
"Then you are going to take us away?" cried Vince.
"I 'ave take you avay, my boy, and I sall not let you go back till I no
longer vant ze cavern store, and ze safe place to hide. Zen you may go
back--if you like."
"What do you mean by that?" said Vince quickly.
"Vat I say: if you like. I sink by zat time you bose say to me, `_Non_,
Monsieur Jacques, ve do not vant to go.' Now I talk no more. Down vis
you!"
"Only tell us one thing," said Vince: "where are you going to take us?"
"I tell you ven I can," said the captain.
"What do you mean by that?" cried Mike excitedly.
"Vat I say. I do not know."
He pressed them towards the hatchway, and they descended, feeling that
they could do nothing else, while the captain followed and opened a door
opposite to that of the cabin.
"Zere," he said. "You can sleep in zose bunk. I keep zat for my
friend, and I give zem to mine _ennemi_, you see. I vill not lock ze
door, but you listen, bose of you. I am ze capitaine, and I am _le
roi_--ze king here. If a man say he vill not, I knock him down. If he
get up and pull out ze knife, I take ze pistol and shoot: I am
_dangereux_. If I hear ze strange noise, I shoot. Don't you make ze
strange noise in ze night, _mes amis_, but go sleep, as you _Anglais_
say, like ze sound of two top hummin. You understand. _Bon soir_! You
come to ze _dejeuner_--breakfast in ze morning."
He shut them in, and the two boys were left in the darkness to their
thoughts. But they were too weary to think much, and soon felt their
way into their bunks, one above the other.
An hour later the door was softly opened, and a lanthorn was thrust in,
the captain following to look at each face in turn.
There was no sham this time. Utterly worn out by the excitement of the
past hours, Vince and Mike were both off--fast in the heavy, dreamless,
restful slumber of sixteen--the sleep in which Nature winds up a boy's
mainspring terse and tight, and makes him ready to go on, rested and
fresh, for the work of another day.