"No, mon; n-o-o-o! We dussen keeps no ho-o-o--hotel 'ere, we dussen.
You'se find tabben ober end de town. Dis am Massa Tre-gel--Tre-gel--
Massa Tregellin's privet mansion."
"Ho! ho!" answered the man, slapping his hat down on his head and
spitting again. "_Massa_ Tregellin's house, is it? Look here, boys,
you just tell your dad, when you see him, that he has got a foolish,
consequential nigger and a mean, tumbledown affair of a hut, if it can't
'commodate some poor sailors. Howsumever, I'll go back to my lugger,
and bad luck to your _mansion_! Old nig, look 'er here--perhaps we'll
see each other again." He looked slowly all round the room, and went
out, slamming the doors after him.
Fifteen minutes afterwards our tutors came in, and when they heard of
our visitor Captain Mugford waxed wroth.
"I wish I had been here," he exclaimed; "if I wouldn't have put that
scoundrel off soundings in about half a splice! The impudent fellow, to
attempt to lord it in that style in a gentleman's house. What do you
think of it, Mr Clare, eh?"
"Oh, not much, Captain Mugford. The man was probably tipsy, and was of
course a bully, or he would never have talked so before boys and a poor
old negro. I am glad neither Walter nor Harry was in the room."
"So am I, sir," said Walter; "we were in the kitchen and came in when we
heard the loud talking, just as the man slammed the doors in going out.
We could have done nothing more than order him out."
After tea we boys went into the kitchen again, leaving our tutors
playing at chess, which Mr Clare was trying to teach Captain Mugford.
That kitchen was a favourite resort of ours in the evenings, and Clump
and Juno liked to have us there. There was a famous fire--three or four
fresh logs singing over a red mass of coal; plenty of ashes; and a
whistled tune with a jet of smoke right from the heart of each stick.
The brass fire-dogs were extra bright, reflecting the blaze on all
sides. Some chestnuts and potatoes were roasting in the ashes, and
Clump had provided some cider to treat us to, this last night of ours on
the cape. So we pulled our chairs close around the fire, Clump sitting
at one end, almost inside the chimney-place, smoking his pipe, and Juno
at the other end, also almost inside the chimney-place, and smoking,
too, her pipe. Hi! How they grinned, and chatted, and smoked. After
awhile, when we had had a full hour of real fun, quizzing the old folks,
telling stories, eating chestnuts and potatoes, drinking cider, and
listening to stories of the West Indies, Walter and Harry got up to
clean their guns.
"Wen you'se cum 'ere nudder time, 'spect dese ole black folks be gwine
'way--be gwine 'crost de ribber Jordan?"--exclaimed Juno, with a long
sigh.
"Now, don't talk in that way," said Harry; "why, marm Juno, you and
Clump will live to dance at my wedding; see if you don't; and now, Juno,
just give us a kettle of hot water, will you, to rinse out these
gun-barrels with."
When the guns were washed, dried, and rubbed off with oil, I said to
Clump, "Have you got any bullets or buckshot?"
"Don't know, Massa Bob--'spects so, en my ole tool-box."
"Why," asked Drake, "what are you going to do, Bob, with bullets and
buckshot?"
Clump was down on his knees in the closet, overhauling the tool-box he
had spoken of.
"Well, Drake, I'll tell you if Clump finds the articles," I answered.
"Have you got any, Clump?"
"Yah, Massa, 'ere's a han'ful."
"These bullets and buckshot," I continued, "are for Walter and Harry to
load their guns with; for, just as sure as that fellow came here this
afternoon, just so sure, I believe, he will be back here before morning
with more like him."
"What stuff," sang out Walter, laughing; "what puts that in your head,
Bob?"
"I don't know exactly what, Walter, but I suspect it, and I have not
liked to say anything about it before, because I was afraid of being
laughed at. But the more I think of it, the more certain I am that the
man who was here to-night is one of the band of smugglers who owned the
goods taken through our means by the revenue men. There are others with
him, and, mark my word, they have not come back for nothing. Now do,
fellows, load your guns. We needn't say anything and get laughed at,
for the Captain will surely laugh if we tell him my suspicions. You can
take your guns upstairs, and then, if anything does happen before
morning, you'll be all ready."
"Well, Walter," said Harry, "suppose we do--it's good fun at any rate to
make believe that robbers, and outlaws, and smugglers, and all other
sorts of odd visitors are coming--and--I cannot help owning that what
Bob says sounds probable. So here go two bullets for this barrel, and
nine buckshot for the other. Come, Walt, load up! Don't you shake in
your boots already? ugh!"
"It is curious that we should have pretended to be smugglers if
smugglers really do come. Probably that makes Bob fancy they will come;
still, I wish that we had not frightened the old people so," said
Walter, loading his gun; and a few minutes later Mr Clare opened the
kitchen door and called us in to evening prayers. As they always did,
Clump and Juno assembled with us in the dining-room.
There was something very impressive in those few moments before the
chapter for reading was found. There was the sound of the turning over
of the Bible leaves, and that of a light, pattering autumn rain without,
(it had commenced after dark), besides the comfortable crackling of the
wood-fire, and the occasional snapping of the fresh logs. The old,
devoted, pious negroes; the rugged, benevolent Captain, with an
expression of thought and reverent waiting in his face; and we boys, so
full of youth and spirits, sat thinking--soberly, and perhaps solemnly--
how neither sickness nor harm had come near us; what blessings of
pleasure, health, and strength had waited on us all during half a year;
how those dear ones separated from us had been preserved from suffering
and calamity, and were hoping to meet us before another week had
commenced; how the common ties and associations that had united us so
happily and so long were soon to be sundered. Those and many other--
some graver, some lighter--thoughts, in those few seconds, occupied our
minds, whilst Mr Clare turned over the leaves beneath the table lamp,
and then his clear, strong voice slowly and feelingly uttered the words:
"I will say of the Lord, _He is_ my refuge and my fortress: my God; in
Him will I trust. Surely He shall deliver thee from the snare of the
fowler, and from the noisome pestilence. He shall cover thee with His
feathers, and under His wings shalt thou trust: His truth _shall_ be
_thy_ shield and buckler. Thou shalt not be afraid for the terror by
night; nor for the arrow that flieth by day; nor for the pestilence that
walketh in darkness; nor for the destruction that wasteth at noonday...
Because thou hast made the Lord which is my refuge, even the Most High,
thy habitation... For He shall give His angels charge over thee, to
keep thee in all thy ways. They shall bear thee up in their hands, lest
thou dash thy foot against a stone... He shall call upon Me, and I will
answer him. I will be with him in trouble: I will deliver him and
honour him. With long life will I satisfy him, and show him My
salvation."
And when the prayers had ended, we separated quietly for our beds, the
Captain going off as usual to the brig.
I turned the key in the hall-door as he went out--the first time such a
thing had been done during our stay on the cape. Ugly coiled himself up
on the horsehair sofa in the dining-room, and in half an hour more, I
suppose, every soul in the old house was asleep.
I dreamed that a lot of rabbits were in a hole together and making a
humming noise, which, I believed, was a whispering they were having
together, and I wanted to hear what they said, but that Ugly made such a
barking I could not. I woke up, and, sure enough, Ugly was very noisy
in the room below, barking regularly and harshly. No one else in the
house seemed to be disturbed. There was a placid snoring in the attic,
a pattering of rain on the roof, and a splashing of water, as it ran off
steadily in a stream to the ground. But in a minute or two, between
Ugly's barks I thought I heard something which recalled what I had been
dreaming of, the rabbits whispering in their burrow. I listened. Yes,
some persons outside the house were talking together in low voices. I
crawled to a window and looked out. There was an indistinct group of
three or four persons standing by the rock, twenty yards from the house.
Their talk was only a murmur of different voices in discussion,
sometimes louder, sometimes fainter; but as I watched, one of the group
struck a light, and I saw in the flash four or five or more figures, and
the face of the man who had entered the house in the evening, who was
now holding a lantern to be lighted, and was also looking up at the
house. It was a dark lantern, I suppose, for the light was shut up in
some way after that. I shook each of the boys and told them to look out
of the window, and then I ran into Mr Clare's room and woke him. When
he saw that some sort of robbery or attack was to be made on the house,
he exclaimed, "I hope they do not know that the Captain is alone in the
brig," and ran downstairs to bolt all the doors and windows as securely
as they could be fastened, and awaken Clump and Juno, who slept in a
little room off the kitchen. Not a lamp was lighted in the house, but
the smugglers had heard the noises made, and now, talking and swearing
aloud, approached the door and turned the handle. Being bolted within,
they could not open it.
"Hullo! hullo! I say, you Tregellin fellows, wake up!"--it was the
voice we had heard before--"wake up and let us in?"--it sounded as if he
turned to his companions then, and laughed and muttered
something--"here's some decent sailor-boys as wants a drop and a bite,
so wake up quick, boys and niggers!--let us in, I say, or we'll break
open the doors, and break your bones into the bargain."
At the conclusion of the speech, they all beat on the door and house
with fists and sticks, and laughed loudly at their leader's joke. Mr
Clare now went down the narrow, creaking stairs again to the big door
they were pounding against so fiercely, and from behind its defence
answered the summons.
"Men: this is a private house, and you must go away. You will get
nothing here, and we are armed."
"Hurrah!" they answered without. I shall omit the terrible oaths with
which they loaded every breath they spoke. "Who are you, big voice?"
"No matter," called out Mr Clare, "who I am. I suspect who you are,
and we do not intend to let you get in here--that is all."
"That's a lie--we'll be in in ten minutes and make your bass a squeak.
If you don't open this 'ere door in a jiffy--we'll make grease-pots of
you along with them niggers. Look what we'll do with your castle--just
what we have been doing with the old hulk down there on the rocks."
As he spoke, the darkness in the house withdrew to the holes and
corners, and flashes of red and white light shot into every window and
played on the walls, reflected from the midnight sky that had suddenly
kindled to a blaze. The outlaws had set the old wreck on fire--our dear
old school-house.
Could the Captain be there, sleeping yet? or had they killed him?
Ah! that doubt about Captain Mugford's safety magnified the danger of
our own situation to our imaginations. If those outlaws could burn, in
madness, such a harmless thing as the castaway brig, and could conquer
such a powerful man as our salt tute, what might they not do here to us?
The hour--the yelling and swearing and banging at the doors--the lurid
glare flashing from the sky to show us each other's fear-stamped
countenances--those united to bewilder and appal us boys at least.
Juno, too, was upstairs in our room, sitting on a low chair, perfectly
silent, but overcome by dread. But Clump, who now showed the courage he
really possessed, was active with Mr Clare downstairs, strengthening
every window and door. He was not afraid. His old spirit was aroused,
and, in the defence of his dear master's children, he was anxious to
prove his courage and fidelity.
"Harry," Mr Clare called up the stairs, "bring me your gun. I shall
want that down here. You say it is all loaded and ready, eh? Well,
bring it down. Walter, you keep yours upstairs, and all you boys remain
there until it is necessary to come down; and now, Walter, don't fire
unless there is absolute necessity. The rascals can't burn this house
unless they light the roof, and they can't stay here all night to do
that, for the light of the _Clear the Track_ will bring over some of the
townspeople. Poor Mugford! poor Mugford! Bob, you climb up to that
little window in the south gable-end, and see if you can detect any
movement about the wreck."
Harry handed him the gun, and I climbed to the lookout, relinquishing
Ugly, whom I had been holding, to Juno's care. He had been ordered not
to bark, so now he only panted fiercely and listened intently.
The smugglers, after vain attempts at the front door--they could have
smashed in the windows, shutters, latches, glass, and all, but their
small size and height from the ground made them most dangerous to enter
by when there were defenders within went round to the back of the house,
and presently I heard a great ripping and banging of boards there, and
Mr Clare's voice call quickly--
"If one inch of you enter there, I will fire--understand that."
Then we heard a shot, but knew by the report that it was not Harry's
gun, and Drake called down the stairs, "Clump, who fired?"
"De smugglers, Massa; one den shoot tru de winder at Massa Clare, but
tank de Lor, the scoundrel miss."
Just then I saw--and how the blood coursed with one cold sweep from my
heart and back again--amid the hot flames of the burning wreck, Captain
Mugford's figure. He sprang from the deck to the rocks and was rushing
towards the house. I turned and called the good news, but found that
Juno and I were alone. The others, too much excited and interested in
the contest to remain longer prisoners in the attic, had got on the
stairway, and when I looked down on them Walter was on the bottom step
with his gun cocked.
Now many steps and the yelled-out blasphemy of the smugglers came round
the house again to the front. Though, as we knew afterwards, two
remained to keep Mr Clare occupied there, whilst the three others were
to try the windows again.
Captain Mugford must be near. Oh! that he could get here safely. Ugly
jumped by me, and, uttering a savage bark, sprang downstairs and past
Walter. He had escaped from Juno's charge. As he flew about the rooms
downstairs, a whole sash and shutter in the south-east room were driven
in by a blow of an immense beam, and in another second half the body of
a smuggler was above the window-sill. But with a tremendous leap Ugly
reached him and pinned him by the throat. They tumbled back together.
Then we heard a new voice--Captain Mugford's!
"You cowards, you hang-dogs, you scum of the sea, you dark-hearted
blackguards--take that! Aye, villains!--and that!"
Two pistol shots were heard. Harry jumped to open the door for Captain
Mugford. Walter stood ready beside him with the gun. I ran with Drake
to the open window, to see if harm had come to our dear salt tute, and
Alfred had hurried in to where Mr Clare was alone guarding the
back-door and broken windows, for he had sent Clump, not knowing of our
being downstairs and of the Captain's coming, to fight where we were.
Clump had a short iron bar in his hands. I saw the man whom Ugly had
gripped fallen on his knees and cutting our gallant little dog from his
neck with a knife. One outlaw was stretched on the ground. Another was
struggling with the Captain. He was a large, powerful fellow, and
seemed to be getting the better of our now much-exhausted tutor. As I
looked, the prostrate man rose, and both he and the one whom poor Ugly--
now dead on the grass--had attacked came to help crush the Captain.
Then the front door was flung open. Walter fired, and the man who had
killed our brave dog dropped the knife he held, and, clasping his left
shoulder with his right hand, screamed out a terrible oath, and, yelling
with pain, ran from the struggle. At the same moment--all these events,
from the time Captain Mugford arrived until the door was opened to admit
him, not occupying probably three minutes--the Captain fell beneath his
adversary, whose fingers clutched his throat, and the infuriated outlaw
seemed determined to finish him. Walter could not fire again without
shooting the very one for whose safety alone he would fire. But Clump
jumped out with his iron bar and struck the assailant on the head. The
Captain was released just as I saw the other miscreant level a pistol at
Clump. I called, "Oh, Clump, Clump, take care!" With the sound of my
voice came the sharp, fatal crack of the pistol, and Clump fell
back--_dead_!
Two minutes more and all the smugglers were in full flight. The old,
grey-headed, faithful, true-hearted Clump was dead, and Juno stretched
unconscious on her husband's body. Ugly, all hacked to pieces, lay in a
pool of blood, yet gasping. Captain Mugford, wounded, bruised, and
exhausted, sat on the doorstep. Mr Clare was leaning over Clump with a
hand on the pulseless heart. The burning wreck yet lighted the heavens,
and the horrid scene at the very doorstep of our home of such a happy
half-year.