After breakfast next morning, the squire asked his friend to go with
him into his study.
"I have been thinking this matter over," he said, "very seriously, and,
upon reflection, I agree with you that it is undesirable that Aggie
should see much of Richard, until she is of an age to form a fair
opinion for herself, and to compare him with other young men. I agree
with you, also, that we have not yet sufficient proofs that he is
completely changed. I hope that he is. You think he is not. At any
rate, he must have a longer trial, and until it is proved to your
satisfaction, as well as mine, that he is in every way a desirable
husband for Aggie, the less they see of each other, the better. I
therefore propose to write at once to my friend Admiral Hewson, to ask
him to use his influence, at the admiralty, to get the young fellow
appointed to a ship. Does that meet your approval, my friend?"
"Quite so," the other said cordially. "Nothing could be better. In the
meantime, as you say, should Richard turn out well, and the young
people take a liking for each other, no match could be more
satisfactory. What I want is that she should take no girlish fancy for
him, at present."
"So be it, then," the squire said. "I think, you know, that we are a
couple of old fools, to be troubling ourselves about Aggie's future, at
present. Still, in a matter which concerns us both so nearly, we cannot
be too careful. If we had a woman with us, we could safely leave the
matter in her hands; as it is, we must blunder on, as best we may."
And so it was settled, and a week later, Richard Horton received an
official letter from the admiralty, ordering him to proceed at once to
Portsmouth to join the Thetis, to which he was appointed as fourth
lieutenant. The order gave Richard extreme satisfaction. He was
beginning to find his life desperately dull, and he was heartily sick
of playing the attentive nephew. He was well content with the progress
he had made; nothing had gone wrong since he returned, his uncle had
clearly taken him back into his favour, and he had no doubt that Aggie
quite appreciated the pains he had bestowed to gain her liking.
He detested the squire's companion, for he felt that the latter
disliked and distrusted him, and that his projects would meet with a
warm opposition on his part. Still, with the squire and Aggie herself
on his side, he did not fear the result. As to James Walsham, whom he
had come home prepared to regard as a possible rival, from his early
intimacy with the child, and the fact that his mother was her
governess, he now regarded him with contempt, mingled with a revengeful
determination to pay off the old score, should a chance ever present
itself.
He therefore started next day in high spirits, assuming, however, a
great reluctance to tear himself away. A few days later a letter came
from him, saying that he hoped that he should be able to come back,
sometimes, for a day or two, as the Thetis was at present to be
attached to the Channel squadron, and it was not expected that she
would, for some time, proceed on foreign service.
Early in October, James Walsham was to go up to London, to commence his
medical course. A week before he was to start, Mr. Wilks went down in
the morning, intending to insist on his returning with him to the Hall.
As he went down towards Sidmouth, the old soldier noticed how strongly
the wind was blowing, the trees were swaying and thrashing in the wind,
the clouds were flying past overhead. Everything portended a severe
gale.
Finding, at Mrs. Walsham's, that James was down on the beach, he
continued his course until he joined him there. James was standing with
a group of fishermen, who were looking seaward. Now that he was exposed
to the full force of the wind, Mr. Wilks felt that, not only was it
going to blow a gale, but that it was blowing one already. The heavy
clouds on the horizon seemed to lie upon the water, the waves were
breaking with great force upon the beach, and the fishermen had hauled
their boats up across the road.
"It's blowing hard, Jim," he said, laying his hand on the young
fellow's shoulder.
"It is blowing hard, and it will blow a great deal harder before
nightfall. The fishermen all think it is going to be an exceptional
gale. It is blowing dead on shore. It will be bad work for any ships
that happen to be coming up Channel today. Eight or ten of our boats
are out. We thought we had made out three of them just before you came,
but the cloud closed down on them. The fishermen are just going to get
lifelines ready. I am afraid we are going to have a terrible night of
it."
"I came down to ask you if you will come up to lunch, Jim, but I
suppose you will not be able to tear yourself away from here."
"I shouldn't like to leave now, indeed. There is no saying what may
happen. Besides, so many of the fishermen are away, that I may be
useful here if a vessel comes ashore, and there may be half a dozen
before the morning. Every hand will be wanted to give assistance."
"But you could not get a boat out through those breakers, could you,
Jim?"
"Yes," Jim replied, "we might get one of the big boats through it now;
but it's going to be worse, presently. When I went out, last year, with
a boat to the brig which was driven ashore, it was worse than this.
"I shall be very glad to come up tomorrow, if you will let me. I hear
that fellow Horton went away last week."
"Yes, he went away, Jim. But why his being there should have kept you
from going up is beyond me."
"I don't like the fellow, Mr. Wilks. He may mean very well, but I don't
like him. I have been in one row about him with the squire, and I don't
want another; but I am quite sure, if I had gone up much while he was
there, it would have ended in my trying to punch his head again."
"In that case, perhaps," the old soldier said, smiling, "you were wise
to stay away, Jim. I don't like the lad myself. Still, punching his
head would not have been a desirable thing."
"I am glad you don't like him," James said, warmly. "Somehow I made up
my mind that you were all sure to like him, and I don't suppose the
idea made me like him any the better. He was just the free-and-easy
sort of fellow to get along well, and I was quite sure that Aggie would
not want me, when she had him to go about with her. I saw him drive
through in the pony carriage with her, two or three times, and it was
easy to see how thoroughly she was enjoying herself."
"Well, it was your own fault, my boy. If you choose to sulk down here,
and never to go up to the Hall, you can't blame Aggie for letting
herself be amused by someone else."
"Oh! I don't blame her," James said hastily. "Of course, it is all
right that she should enjoy herself with her cousin. Only somehow, you
know, after being great friends with anyone, one doesn't like to see
someone else stepping into your place."
"But as I have told you, over and over again, during the last three
years, Jim, you have willfully stepped out of your place. You know how
often I have asked you to come up, and how seldom you have come. You
have never shown Aggie that you have any wish to continue on the
footing of friendship, on which you stood towards each other when she
was at your mother's, and as you have chosen to throw her over, I don't
see why she shouldn't take to anyone else who takes pains to make
himself pleasant to her."
"Oh! I don't blame her a bit, Mr. Wilks. How could you think such a
thing! I was very fond of little Aggie when she was at my mother's; but
of course, I was not ass enough to suppose that she was going trotting
about the country with me, when she once went up to the Hall as the
squire's granddaughter. Of course, the whole thing was changed.
"Ah! Here comes the rain."
As he spoke, a sudden splash of rain struck them. It might have been
noticed coming across the water in a white line. With it came a gust of
wind, to which that which had already been blowing was a trifle. There
was no more talking, for nothing less than a shout could have been
heard above the roaring of the wind. It was scarcely possible to stand
against the fury of the squall, and they were driven across the road,
and took shelter at the corner of some houses, where the fishermen had
already retired.
The squall lasted but a few minutes, but was soon succeeded by another,
almost equally furious, and this seemed to increase in strength, until
the wind was blowing a perfect hurricane; but the fishermen now
struggled across the road again, for, between the rain squalls, a
glimpse had been caught of two of the fishing boats, and these were now
approaching the shore. A mere rag of sail was set on each, and yet they
tore over the waves at tremendous speed.
One was some two hundred yards ahead of the other, and by the course
they were making, they would come ashore nearly at the same spot. The
news that two boats were in sight spread rapidly, and many of the
fishermen's wives, with shawls over their heads, ran down and stood
peering out from behind shelter, for it was well-nigh impossible to
stand exposed to the fury of the gale.
An old fisherman stood, with a coil of rope in his hand, close to the
water's edge. Several of the others stood close to him, and four of
them had hold of the other end of the rope. When the boat was within
fifty yards of shore, the sail was lowered; but she still drove
straight on before the wind, with scarce an abatement in her speed. A
man stood in her bow, also with a coil of rope in his hand, and, as he
approached, threw it far ahead. The fisherman rushed waist deep into
the water and caught the end of it, which in a moment was knotted to
the one in his hand.
"Run along with her," he shouted.
For a moment, the boat towered on the top of a wave, which raced in
towards the shore. The next, as it came, took her stern, and she was in
the act of swinging round, when the strain of the rope came upon her,
and brought her straight again. Higher and higher the wave rose, and
then crashed down, and the boat shot forward, like an arrow, in the
foam. The fishermen rushed forward and caught it, those on board leapt
out waist-deep; all were taken off their feet by the backward rush, but
they clung to the sides of the boat, while the men at the head rope,
with their heels dug deeply into the sand, withstood the strain, and
kept her from being swept out again.
A few seconds, and the boat was left dry, and the next wave carried it
high up on the beach, amid a loud cheer from the fishermen and lookers
on; but there was no time to waste, for the next boat was close at
hand. Again, the rope was thrown to the shore, but this time the strain
came a moment too late, the following wave turned the boat round, the
next struck it broadside and rolled it, over and over, towards the
shore. The fishermen, in an instant, joined hands, and rushing down
into the water, strove to grasp the men.
Several times, those in front were knocked down and rolled up on the
beach, but three of the crew were brought in with them. There was one
still missing, and there was a shout as he was seen, clinging to an
oar, just outside the line of breakers. James Walsham had been working
with the fishermen in saving those already brought to shore. He now
fastened the end of a line round his body.
"You can never get through those rollers--they will break you up like
an eggshell," the old fisherman shouted.
"I will dive through them," Jim shouted back. "Give me plenty of slack,
and don't pull, till you see I have got him."
The lad waited for his opportunity, and then, rushing down after the
sheet of white foam, he stood, waist deep, as a great wave, some twelve
feet high, towered up like a wall towards him. It was just going to
break, when James plunged, head foremost, into it. There was a crash
which shook the earth, a mass of wildly rushing foam, and then, some
ten yards beyond the spot where the wave had broken, Jim's head
appeared above the surface. It was but for a moment, for he immediately
dived again, under the next wave, and then came up within a few yards
of the floating oar. A stroke or two, and he was alongside. He seized
the man, and held up one arm as a signal. In a moment the rope
tightened, and they moved towards shore. When they were close to the
edge of the breaking waves, Jim held up his hand, and the strain
stopped.
"Now," he said to the man, "the moment they begin to pull, leave go of
the oar, and throw your arms round me."
He waited until a wave, bigger than ordinary, approached, and, just as
it began to pass under him, gave the signal. Higher and higher they
seemed to rise, then they were dashed down with a tremendous shock.
There was a moment's confusion as they were swept along in the white
water. Jim felt a terrific strain, and it seemed to him that the rope
would cut him in sunder. Then he was seized by a dozen strong arms, and
carried high and dry, before the next wave could reach him.
For a minute or two he was scarce conscious. The breath had been almost
knocked out of his body, with the break of the wave, and the rushing
water seemed still singing in his ears.
"Are you hurt, my boy? Are you hurt, James?" were the first words he
clearly heard.
"No, I think I am all right," he said, trying to sit up. "Is the other
fellow all right?"
"He has broke his arm," one of the fishermen, who had just helped the
man to his feet, replied. "He may be thankful it's no worse."
James was now helped to his feet.
"I am all right," he repeated to Mr. Wilks, "except that I feel as if I
had a hot iron round my body. That rope has taken the skin off all
round me, I fancy, and doesn't it smart, just, with the salt water!"
"Oh, James, how could you do it?" a girl's voice said suddenly.
The fishermen drew aside, and Aggie Linthorne pressed forward.
The squire had gone into her schoolroom and had said:
"Mrs. Walsham, I think you had better give up your lessons for the
morning, and get home. It is blowing a gale now, and we shall probably
have the rain down before long. I will walk down with you. The wind is
dead on the shore, and it will be a grand sight."
Aggie at once set her mind on going, too; but the squire refused, until
Mrs. Walsham suggested that, if it came on wet, Aggie could stop at her
house until it cleared up, or, if necessary, till morning. Whereupon,
the squire had given way, and the three had started together for
Sidmouth, leaving Mrs. Walsham at her house as they passed. The others
had struggled down, against the wind, until they came within sight of
the sea. The first boat had just been run safely on shore when they
arrived, and Aggie gave a cry, and put her hands over her face, as the
second boat was seen to capsize.
"Cling to me, Aggie," the squire said. "See, they are rushing in the
water to save them. They will have them, yet!"
At the cheer which broke out from the spectators, clustering thickly
now, as the first of the shipwrecked crew was brought to shore, Aggie
looked out again. It was a sight she never forgot. With the great waves
crashing down on the shore, and the line of straggling figures, waist
deep in the white foam, in which were scattered, here and there,
portions of the boat, oars, sails, and nets.
"Well done, well done!" the squire exclaimed. "They have dragged up
three of them. I don't know whether there are any more."
"Yes, yes, look!" Aggie cried; "there, out in the waves--there, I can
see a head. That's just about where I was nearly drowned. Oh,
grandpapa, take me away, I can't look at it."
"There's someone going out to save him, Aggie. Listen to the cheer."
Aggie looked again.
"Oh, grandpapa, stop him, stop him!" she cried, "it's James."
But at the same moment the plunge was made, and the figure lost to
sight.
Aggie threw her arms round her grandfather, and hid her face.
"I can't look, I can't look," she cried. "Tell me about it."
"There, he is up; bravo!" the squire exclaimed, almost as excited as
she was. "He has dived again, dear,"--then, after a pause--"there he is
close to him. He has got him, Aggie! Now he is waving his hand; now
they are tightening the rope; now he is waving his hand again, and they
are waiting. There!"
There was a pause, which seemed to the girl to be endless, then the
squire cried:
"They have got them out, both of them;" and a loud cheer broke from all
standing round.
"Come along, grandpapa, let us go down to them."
"Stay a moment, my dear. They may be hurt. It's better you should not
go."
The girl stood, with her hands clasped, gazing at the fishermen grouped
on the shore, stooping over the prostrate figures. Then one of them
stood up and waved his hand, and the spectators knew that all was well.
Then the girl ran down to join them.
"Why, Aggie!" James exclaimed in astonishment, as she pressed forward.
"Why, my dear, what brings you here in this storm? Whatever will the
squire say?"
"The squire has brought her down himself," Mr. Linthorne said,
following closely behind his granddaughter; "and he is glad he did,
James, for she has seen a grand sight.
"You are a fine fellow;" and he wrung the lad's hand.
"A grand fellow, Wilks, isn't he?"
"I always said so, squire," the old soldier said, his face beaming with
satisfaction; "but now, let us get him home, and Aggie, too. The child
will be blown away."
But, for a minute or two, they could not carry James off, so closely
did the men and women press round him, and shake him by the hand. At
last they got him away, and, escorted by a crowd of cheering boys, led
him back to his mother's.
"Your son is a hero, Mrs. Walsham!" the squire exclaimed as they
entered; "but don't talk to him now, but mix him a glass of hot grog.
"Wilks, you get him between the blankets directly. I will tell his
mother all about it, while she is mixing the grog.
"Hallo, Aggie! Why, bless the child, she's fainted."
The girl had borne up till they reached the house, towards which the
wind had blown her along, as she clung to her grandfather's arm; but
the excitement had been too much for her, and, the instant they entered
the room, she had dropped into an armchair, and at once lost
consciousness.
Mrs. Walsham kept her presence of mind, in spite of her bewilderment at
these sudden occurrences. She at once laid the girl on the sofa,
removed her dripping bonnet and cloak, and poured a few drops of brandy
between her lips, while she set the squire to work, to chafe her hands.
Aggie soon opened her eyes, and recovered her consciousness.
"Don't try to get up, Aggie," Mrs. Walsham said. "You are faint and
shaken with all this excitement. Your grandpapa and I were two very
foolish people, to let you come out.
"Now, Mr. Wilks, the best thing you can do, is to find a boy outside,
and send him up to the Hall, with a message that the carriage is to
come down directly.
"I think, Mr. Linthorne, she had better get back home. I should be glad
enough, as you know, to keep her here for the night; but this house is
rocking with the wind, now, and she would not be likely to get any
sleep here. I will run up and see how James is, and if he is all right,
I will come up with her and stop the night. She is very much shaken,
and had better not be alone."
Mrs. Walsham soon came downstairs again, and said that James said he
never felt better in his life, and that, by all means, she was to go up
to the Hall. She then set about and prepared a cup of tea, which
greatly restored Aggie, and, by the time the carriage arrived, the girl
was able to walk to the gate.
Mr. Wilks had offered to remain with James, but the latter would not
hear of it. The lad was, indeed, well pleased to hear that they were
all going up to the Hall, as thereby he escaped hearing any more of his
own praises. Besides, he was most anxious to get down to the beach
again, for no one could say what might take place there before morning.
As soon, therefore, as he heard the door close, he jumped out of bed,
and when, peeping through the blinds, he saw the carriage drive off
with its four occupants, he at once began to dress. He felt bruised and
sore from the blows he had received, and a red wheal round his chest,
beneath the arms, showed where the rope had almost cut into the flesh.
However, he soon dressed himself, and descended the stairs, went into
the kitchen, and told the astonished girl that he was going out; then,
having made a hasty meal of bread and cold meat, he put on his oilskins
again, and started for the shore.
He did not, however, wait long. So heavy was the sea, now, that nothing
whatever could be done should any vessel drive ashore, and, as for the
fisher boats, the sailors shook their heads as they spoke of them.
"They were farther away to the west, so the chaps as got ashore tells
us. They may have got in, somewhere, before it got to the worst. If
not, it must have gone hard with them."
Finding that there was nothing to be done, and that he was much more
stiff and bruised than he had believed, Jim made his way back again,
and turned into bed; where he soon fell asleep, and did not wake until
the following morning.
One of the grooms had come down from the Hall, at six o'clock, to
inquire how he was, and the message given by the girl, that he had been
out, but that he had come back and was now sound asleep, satisfied Mrs.
Walsham, and enabled her to devote her undivided attention to her
charge, who needed her care more than her son. Before night, indeed,
the squire had sent down to Sidmouth for Dr. Walsham's successor, who
said that Aggie was very feverish, and must be kept perfectly quiet for
some days. He sent her up a soothing draught, and Mrs. Walsham sat up
with her all night. She slept but little, and talked almost
incessantly, sometimes rambling a little.
The first thing in the morning, the doctor was again sent for, and on
his recommendation the squire at once sent off a man, on horseback, to
Exeter, for the leading physician of that town. When he arrived, late
in the afternoon, Aggie was somewhat quieter, and his report was more
cheering.
"Her pulse is very high," he said; "but Mr. Langford tells me that it
is not so rapid as it was in the morning, and that he thinks the
symptoms are abating. Undoubtedly, it is a sharp feverish attack,
brought on by excitement and exposure. A very little more, and it would
have been a case of brain fever, but I trust now that it will soon pass
off. The sedatives that have been administered are taking effect, and I
trust she will soon fall asleep.
"As you requested, I have made my arrangements for staying here
tonight, and I trust that, by the morning, we shall have her
convalescent."
Mr. Wilks had gone down, the first thing in the morning, to see James,
and found him up and about as usual. He was very greatly concerned, at
hearing that Aggie had passed a bad night, and came four times up to
the Hall, during the day, to inquire about her; and on his last visit,
late in the evening, he was told that she was sleeping quietly, and
that the doctor had every hope that she would wake, in the morning,
free from fever. This proved to be the case; but she was ordered to
keep her bed for a day or two.
On the morning after the storm, the wind had gone down much, although a
tremendous sea was still breaking on the shore. Messages arrived, in
the course of the day, to say that all the missing boats, with one
exception, had succeeded in gaining the shore before the storm was full
on. The missing boat was never heard of again.
Two days later, James Walsham had strolled up the hill to the east of
the town, and was lying, with a book before him, in a favourite nook of
his looking over the sea. It was one of the lovely days which sometimes
come late in autumn, as if the summer were determined to show itself at
its best, before leaving. It could not be said that James was studying,
for he was watching the vessels passing far out at sea, and inwardly
moaning over the fact that he was destined for a profession for which
he had no real liking, instead of being free to choose one of travel
and adventure.
Presently, he heard voices behind him. The position, in which he was
lying, was a little distance down on the slopes, on the seaward side of
the path, and, as a screen of bushes grew behind it, he could not be
seen by anyone passing along.
"All the men, with their pistols and cutlasses, are to assemble here at
ten o'clock tonight, Johnson. But do not give them orders till late,
and let them come up, one by one, so as not to attract attention.
Lipscombe's men are to assemble at the same hour, and march to meet us.
This time, I think, there is no mistake. The cargo is to be landed
where I told you. It will be high tide at twelve o'clock, and they are
sure to choose that hour, so that the cutter can run close in. I have
sent off a man on horseback to Weymouth, for the revenue cutter to come
round. If she's in time, we shall catch that troublesome lugger, as
well as her cargo. She has been a thorn in our side for the last year.
This time, I do hope we shall have her."
The speakers then moved on out of hearing, but James Walsham recognized
the voice, as that of the revenue officer commanding the force at
Sidmouth.
Smuggling was, at that time, carried on on a large scale along the
coast, and there were frequent collisions between those engaged in it
and the revenue officers. The sympathies of the population were wholly
with the smugglers, and the cheating of the revenue was not at all
considered in the light of a crime.
Many of the fishermen, from time to time, took a hand in smuggling
cruises, and the country people were always ready to lend assistance in
landing and carrying the cargoes.
When out in their boats at night, James had often heard the fishermen
tell stories of their smuggling adventures, and more than once he had
been with them, when they had boarded a lugger laden with contraband,
to warn them that the revenue cutter was on the cruising ground, and it
would not be safe to attempt to run cargo at present. He now
determined, at once, that he would warn the smugglers of their danger.
The question was, where was the cargo to be run? The officer had not
mentioned the spot, but, as the force from the next station to the east
was to cooperate, it must be somewhere between the two.
Waiting till the speakers must have gone well along the cliff, he rose
to his feet, and returned to Sidmouth. He thought, at first, of telling
some of the fishermen what he had heard, but as, in the event of an
affray, it might come out how the smugglers had been warned of the
intention of the revenue officers, he thought there would be less risk
in giving them warning himself. He knew every path down the cliff for
miles, and trusted that he should be able to make his way down, and
give the boats notice of their danger, before the revenue men reached
the shore.
At nine o'clock he dressed himself, in the rough sailor's suit he wore
when he went out with the fishermen, and started along the cliff. For
some distance he kept well inland, as the officer might have placed a
man on the lookout, to stop anyone going towards the scene of action.
The spot he thought the most likely was a mile and a half along the
shore. There was a good landing place, and an easy path up the cliff,
and he knew that cargoes had been more than once run here. Accordingly,
when he reached this spot, he sat down among some bushes on the edge of
the cliff, and waited for some sort of signal. Half an hour later, he
heard the tramp of a number of men, passing along behind him.
"There go the revenue men," he thought to himself. "I suppose they are
going to meet those coming the other way."
An hour passed without further sound, and James began to get uneasy. If
this was the spot fixed for the landing, some of the country people
ought to be arriving, by this time, to help to carry off the cargo.
They might, for aught he knew, be already near, waiting for the signal
before they descended the path. No doubt the revenue men would be lying
in wait, a short distance off, and would allow the friends of the
smugglers to go down to the water, without letting them know of their
presence.
He kept his eyes fixed on the water to the east, watching anxiously for
the appearance of a light. Presently he started. Immediately in front
of him, about a mile at sea, a bright light was shown. In a second, it
disappeared. Three times it flashed out, and then all was dark. The
night was a very dark one. There was no moon, and the stars were
obscured, and although he strained his eyes to the utmost, he could not
make out the vessel from which the light had been shown.
"How foolish to show such a bright light!" he said to himself. "It
would have been almost sure to attract the attention of anyone on the
watch."
He made his way to the path, and descended to the edge of the water,
and waited, expecting momentarily to be joined by people from above.
But no one came. He strained his ears listening for the fall of
approaching oars; but all was silent.
Half an hour passed, and then it flashed across him that the signal
must have been made to deceive the revenue men, and to cause them to
assemble at that spot, and so leave the point really determined upon
free for operations.
With an exclamation of disgust at his own stupidity, in having been
deceived, James ran up the path again at the top of his speed, and then
took the road along the cliff. For two miles, he ran without
interruption, and then saw a dark mass in front of him. He turned off,
instantly, to the left. Doubtless he had been heard approaching, for
two or three men detached themselves from the rest, and started to cut
him off. James ran straight inland, and in the darkness soon lost sight
of his pursuers. Then he turned, and made for the cliff again. Two or
three hundred yards farther along, there was another path to the shore,
and this he had no doubt, now, was the one the smugglers were about to
use. He struck the cliff within a few yards of the spot. In an instant,
two men jumped up and seized him.
"Who are you?"
For an instant, James thought that his assailants were revenue men,
but, even in the darkness, he saw that they were countrymen.
"Quick!" he said. "The revenue men are close at hand. They are
watching, two or three hundred yards along. Listen! Here they come."
A tramping of feet coming rapidly along the cliff was clearly heard,
and the men, with an oath, released their hold and ran off, giving a
loud whistle, and made for their carts, which were stationed a few
hundred yards inland. James dashed down the path, shouting at the top
of his voice. He had not gone many yards before he met a number of men,
coming up with tubs of spirits on their shoulders.
"Throw them down," he cried, "and make along the shore. The revenue men
are close behind."
His advice was taken at once. The tubs were thrown down, and went
leaping and bounding down to the shore, while the men followed James,
at full speed, down the path.
Their pursuers were close behind. There was no longer any use in
concealment. Their officer shouted to them to press forward at full
speed, while, from the beach below, a hubbub of voices suddenly broke
out, and, at the same moment, a blue light was lit on the cliff above.
"Beat them back, my lads," one of the smugglers was shouting, as James
ran down to the little crowd of men standing near two boats. "We are
five to one against them. Come on."
"Surrender in the king's name," the revenue officer shouted, as he
rushed forward, followed by his men.
The answer was a pistol shot, and, in a moment, a furious melee began.
The advantage in numbers was all on the side of the smugglers. Those
who had landed with the kegs were all armed with pistol and cutlass,
and the countrymen had heavy sticks and bludgeons. The ten revenue men
would have been overpowered, but suddenly a shout was heard, and
another party of sailors ran up along the shore, and joined in the
fray. It was the detachment from the other station, which had been
waiting, at some little distance along the shore, for the signal from
above.
"To the boats, lads," the leader of the smugglers shouted. "We are
caught in a trap."
The smugglers rushed to the boats, and James, who was standing by the
water's edge, leaped on board with them. Most of the country people
fled at once along the shore, pursued by some of the revenue men, while
the others made a rush for the boats. These had been kept afloat a few
yards from the shore. Grapnels had been dropped over their sterns, and,
as the men in charge hauled out the moment the fight began, they were
in water shoulder deep when the smugglers scrambled on board.
The revenue men dashed in after them, and strove to hold the boats; but
they were beaten off with oars and cutlasses, and the boats were soon
hauled out into deep water. The grapnels were lifted, and the men, many
of whom were wounded more or less severely in the fray, got out their
oars and pulled to the lugger, amid a dropping fire of pistol shots
from shore.