As soon as Charley was joined by Tom, he commenced a more thorough
examination of the vault; but no outlets could they discover, and they
began to doubt whether their nocturnal visitors could have got through
it into the Tower. Could there be another passage independent
altogether of the vault? They went round and round and could find no
door or trap, or opening of any sort.
"I doubt if we are right, after all," observed Charley; "we must try and
find some other way down--for way there is, of that I am certain."
"We are right; still, though," answered Tom, "that ladder has had other
feet on it of late besides ours; and just let me see how the bolt of the
trap-door could have been fastened from below if there wasn't some one
to do it. It wasn't the ghosteses, I suppose, Mister Charles? and look
here--what's this?" he added, as stooping down he picked up another
small slipper, the fellow to the one which was known to be Margery's.
The sight of it induced Charley to renew his search, and directly
afterwards he discovered in one of the cells a ring, which looked, he
thought, as if it was intended to serve as a handle to a stone door. He
pulled it with all his strength, and slowly turning on a pair of heavy
rusty hinges it opened, and showed a flight of steps cut in the rock,
and leading downwards.
"Come along," he whispered to Tom, "we shall soon solve the mystery."
He led, Tom following, and holding the lantern with a torch ready to
light at the end of his hook arm, while he held a pistol in his other
hand. At first they descended by very steep steps cut in the rock, then
the passage was almost on a level and turned and twisted considerably,
showing that it had been formed in the first place by nature, and had
been simply enlarged by the hand of man.
Charley was, however, thinking all the time far more of little Margery,
and how frightened she must have been when carried along it, than of the
way in which the passage had been formed. He was expecting also every
instant to find himself confronted by a number of fierce smugglers, who
would naturally be exasperated at having their long-concealed haunt at
length discovered. There could be no longer any doubt as to who
represented the ghosts, nor how they had entered the Tower and so
speedily disappeared. The passage was somewhat slippery from the
moisture which here and there trickled through the rock, and was clearly
not often traversed, which it would have been had the vault above been
used as a store-house.
It was pretty evident from the words the smugglers had used that their
object was to get rid of the inhabitants of the Tower that they might
occupy the vaults as a store-house, and have free egress from it for
their goods. They had probably hoped, could they have attained their
object, to have baffled the revenue officers for years to come. They
must have felt that they had been completely defeated, and, either in
revenge or in the hopes of making some terms with Captain Askew, had
carried off Margery. Still, Charley could not believe, that, savage and
lawless as they might be, they would wish to injure the innocent little
girl, and was nearly sure that he was on the right track to recover her.
Charley now proceeded very cautiously, for he thought it possible that
the passage might lead to the edge of a precipice to be descended only
by a ladder, and an incautious step in advance might send him tumbling
headlong down; and he had the sense to know that people even when
engaged in the best of enterprises must guard against accidents and
failure, and that they have no right to expect success unless they do
their best to secure it. Tom wanted to lead, but Charley would not let
him.
"No," he answered, "make fast the rope you've got round my waist, then
if I slip you'll haul me up."
Tom did so, and they once more advanced. They had gone some way further
when Charley again stopped and listened. He heard a low, murmuring
sound--it was that of human voices. He and Tom crept on more cautiously
than ever. A gleam of light shone on them as if through a crevice.
There was evidently either a door or a curtain hung across the passage.
This would enable them perhaps to see what was going on within, before
entering. Shading their lantern and making as little noise as possible,
they got close up to what seemed to be a door or a number of planks
nailed together, and placed so as to lean against the entrance. Charley
was afraid that while searching for a hole to look through he might
knock it over.
At length he found a chink through which he could look into what
appeared to be a cavern of some size, but the hole allowed him the
command only of a very limited range of vision. In front of him were
two men seated on casks at a rough table, made apparently of pieces of
wreck. There was a lantern on the table, and they had account-books and
some piles of money, with a bottle or two and some tin mugs. From the
way in which they were occupied, Charley supposed that they were
principal men among the smugglers, settling their accounts. They were
both strangers to him. He was afraid to ask Tom whether he knew them,
for fear of his voice being heard. The plan he at once formed was to
rush out on them, seize and bind them, and hold them as hostages till
Margery should be given up; for it did not occur to him that a young lad
like himself and a one-armed man were scarcely likely to overpower two
stout, hardy ruffians like those before him. He drew Tom back a little
distance where it was safe to speak, and asked him if he would make the
attempt. The old sailor was ready for anything. It would certainly be
a grand matter to capture the leaders of the gang. He only wished that
the captain was there to lead them, then there would be no doubt about
it.
Charley's chief anxiety was with respect to Margery. If she was in the
cavern, and any of their pistols were discharged, she might be hurt. As
regarded the risk he and Tom ran, he did not reflect a moment. The
outlaws were to be captured, and he had undertaken the task of seizing
them if he could.
"Now, Tom, are you all ready?" he asked; "I will take the man on the
right side, you the man on the left--knock them over and hold our
pistols to their heads, while we march them up the passage into the
Tower."
"Yes, I'm ready, Mr Charles," answered Tom. "But leave the gun where
we are, it will be only in our way, and I'll stick to my cutlass. We
must be sharp about it, though, for they don't look like fellows who'd
stand child's-play; and yet I've known in the war time, two staunch
fellows take a ship out of the hands of a prize crew of ten men: and so
I don't see why we shouldn't be able to clap into bilboes two big
ragamuffins like those there. Come on!"
The hearts of the bravest must beat quick when they are about to engage
in a desperate struggle with their fellow men. Charley Blount felt his
beat a great deal quicker than usual when he and old Tom were about to
rush on the two smugglers in the cavern, and, as they hoped, overpower
them. They got close up to the door, and pressing with all their might
against the upper part, sent it flat down before them on the floor of
the cavern, and rushing over it threw themselves instantly on the
smugglers, who, astonished at the sudden noise, had not time to rise
from their seats when they felt their throats seized, and saw the
muzzles of a brace of pistols presented at their heads.
Nothing could have been better done, and the two smugglers would have
been made prisoners, but at the same moment a dozen stout fellows, who
had been sleeping round the cavern, and had sprang to their feet at the
noise of the falling door, came round them; the muzzles of the pistols
were knocked up, Tom's going off and the bullet flattening against the
roof of the cavern, and they found their arms pinioned, and instead of
capturing others were themselves made captives. Charley felt bitterly
disappointed and crestfallen, but not for a moment forgetting the object
of his expedition, he looked round the cavern for Margery. She was not
to be seen. "Where have you carried the little girl to?" he asked; "we
came to fetch her. You had no business to carry her off. Take her back
to her father and mother, and you may do what you like with us."
"You are von brave young rogue, _mon jolie garcon_!" exclaimed the man
(the captain of a French lugger), whom Charley had seized. "You have no
fear, it seems, for ghosts nor for men; but you give me von terrible
gripe of my neck. Ah, not you tink we do wid you?"
"I don't know, and don't care," answered Charley, recklessly; "only give
me back Miss Margery--that's what I want."
"Ah! is it? She long way from dis, _mon garcon_," said the captain, in
a mocking tone; "Vould you like go see her?"
"Yes, I would," answered Charley; "and let me tell you that if a hair of
her head has been injured, you will all have to pay dearly for it."
"Vary well, vary well," said the Frenchman, still mocking at Charley;
"Ve vill take you wid us, eh?"
"Come, enough of this, mounseer," growled out the other man, who was
only then recovering from the effects of the iron grip Tom had taken of
his throat. "If we don't look out, mates, we shall have a whole gang of
the coastguard down on us while we stay chattering here. Just settle
what's to be done with the old man and the lad, and then the sooner we
are away from here the better."
"Give us up the little girl, and neither coastguard nor police shall
molest you if we can help it," exclaimed Charley.
"Then no one is following you?" asked the man.
"No," answered Charley, without thinking of the consequences of his
reply.
"Then come with me, lads, and we'll stop up the entrance to our burrow
in a way which will give plenty of work to any one to find it!"
exclaimed the man; "but we'll put irons first on the claws of this young
fighting-cock and his companion."
The smugglers were deaf to all Charley's expostulations, and he and Tom
speedily found their hands in heavy manacles, which would effectually
prevent them from making their escape. Tom did not at first deign even
to speak, but now lifting up his manacled hands he exclaimed, "Thank ye,
mates, for these pretty gloves; we had intended to put your hands into
some like them before the night is over, and just let me advise you, or
you'll be caught as it is."
Charles and Tom were left standing by themselves to indulge in
meditation, while one-half of the smugglers hurried off to stop the
entrance to the passage, and the other half packed up the goods which
lay about the cavern, ready to carry them off.
Charley's meditations were not altogether pleasant, but though
grievously disappointed at the failure of his expedition, he kept up his
spirits with the hope that something might still turn up to enable him
either to see Margery, or to learn where she was. He was, however,
greatly concerned with the thought of the additional anxiety Captain and
Mrs Askew would feel when he and Tom did not return. "Of course the
vault will be explored, and if the smugglers stop up the passage as they
intend the entrance to it will not be found, and no one will be able to
guess what has become of us."
The smugglers were not long about the work, and as soon as they returned
they blindfolded Charley's and Tom's eyes, the Captain observing that
though they had found their way into the cavern, they should not be able
to boast that they knew their way out again. Most of the men were
strangers, and by their appearance French; but Charley thought that he
recognised the countenances of a few, though as there was but a dim
light in the cavern, and they kept out of his way, he could not be
certain. As they led him along he heard them muttering in angry tones,
and, as he thought, consulting what they should do with him and Tom.
"He knows too much already," said one.
"Dead men tell no tales," growled another.
"A slip over the cliff--nothing could be proved against us," muttered a
third.
Similar pleasant remarks continued to be made while he was led up and
down passages, and, he was convinced, more than once turned completely
round, till at last a rope was fastened round his waist, and he felt
himself lowered down what he concluded was the side of a cliff, for the
wind blew strongly against him. He was then led along the bench to the
westward; this he knew by hearing the surf beating on his left hand, and
feeling the wind on his left cheek. He heard the footsteps of several
people, but he could not ascertain whether Tom was of the party, and he
began to be afraid that they were separated from each other. The way
was very rough, and he had great difficulty in keeping his feet. The
wind too was getting up, and he heard the men grumbling at having to
lead him along, and at being unable to embark; from which he concluded
that their original intention had been to send him and Tom off to the
coast of France with the French captain.
After going a considerable distance, the wind still increasing, he found
that they turned inland up a steep ravine. He was now in a part of the
country with which he was unacquainted, he supposed, but still he
endeavoured to remember each turn he took, that if necessary he might be
able to retrace his steps. More than once, as he went along, he thought
that he heard Tom's voice, and he was about to shout to him, but the
muzzle of a pistol pressed against his cheek, and a hint from a gruff
voice, that if he hallooed his brains would be blown out, warned him
that it would be wiser to hold his tongue.
Poor Charley had never taken so unpleasant a walk in his life; he had
attacked the smugglers first certainly, and--though he did not know it,
as he had no warrant--in an illegal manner, and they could if they had
chosen have brought an action against him and Tom for an assault and
battery; but, on the other hand, as they were themselves engaged in
illegal transactions, this they could not venture to do, as it would
have brought their own misdeeds to light.
On the party went, now turning rapidly to the right, now to the left,
till Charley felt convinced that they were attempting to mislead him.
At last, strong as he was, he was almost ready to drop with fatigue.
The men who held him were frequently changed, as if they too were
knocked up with their work. Suddenly they stopped, declaring they could
go no further, and that there could not be a more convenient place for
getting rid of their prisoners.
"Heave them over the cliff!" said one, in a low, savage tone. "The
water is deep, and they will be soon washed out to sea."
"Not so certain of that," said another; "better make some stones fast to
their feet to sink them."
"Just to prove that they came to their end by foul means!" observed a
third with a sneer. "No, no, heave 'em over here, they'll never speak
again after they reach the bottom, and no one will be able to tell but
what they fell over of themselves."
This agreeable discussion afforded Charley the first intimation that old
Tom was near him, and directly afterwards he heard his voice saying, "Do
what you like with me, mates, but let that young lad go free. How would
you like to have one of your own boys or young brothers treated as you
threaten to treat him? There's life and work and happiness in him, and
you'd just knock it all to pieces for the sake of a paltry revenge.
What good can killing the boy do to any of you? Why, I'll tell you--
murder will out, and you'll all be hanged, every one of you."
"Hold your jaw!" exclaimed one of the smugglers; "we've made up our
minds, and you'll both go the same way."
Neither Charley nor Tom were of a disposition to beg for their lives;
besides, they believed that if the ruffians had determined to kill them,
no entreaties would make them alter their minds. Charley, not to lose
precious time, tried to prepare himself for death; he thought of the
sins he had committed, and endeavoured to repent of them; he forgave all
his enemies, even those who were about to kill him, and then, claiming
no merit for anything he had ever done, he cast himself at the feet of
One he knew to be full of love, and mighty to save. Such is the way a
true Christian and a brave man would prepare himself for that great
change which must come on all of us.
"Are you going to say your prayers, young man, before we heave you off?"
asked a smuggler, in a gruff voice.
"I have said them, thank you," answered Charley, calmly. "Tom, have you
said yours? Have you made your peace with Heaven in the only way it can
be made?"
"Yes, Mr Charles, I've done that for many a day. When I first came to
live on shore with the captain, `Tom,' says he, `we must all die, and as
we know not the day we should always be ready,' so he showed me the way
to be ready, and I've kept ready ever since."
"Now, friends," said Tom, addressing the smugglers, "what do you intend
to do? I've again to tell you that you'll gain nothing by committing a
cruel murder, and you'll repent of it as long as you live, and longer,
far longer."
"Stop his canting mouth, and over the cliff with him! let him preach to
the lobsters and crabs if he's a mind!" exclaimed one of the smugglers,
and others joined in the vindictive cry.
Charley and Tom on this found themselves dragged along by the shoulders
till their feet were over the cliff.
"Now, over with them, let them drop!" cried one of the men.
"No, no," exclaimed another, "let them grip on to the edge with their
hands. They'll have time to think about that where they're going, and
pleasant thoughts to them!"
This last sally of wit produced a roar of laughter from the savage
smugglers who, passing their lives in systematically outraging the laws
of their country, seemed no longer to be moved by any of the better
feelings of our nature. Still Charley and Tom felt grateful for the few
moments of existence allowed them, and clutched the edge of the cliff
with all the energy of despair. No sooner had they been lowered into
their perilous position than they heard the smugglers, with heartless
indifference to the agony they were suffering, moving off, some actually
laughing, as if enjoying their misery, though none of them apparently
were so utterly inhuman as to wait to see them dashed to pieces by their
fall.
Charley, light and strong, felt that he could hold on for some time, but
at the same time was afraid of struggling and endeavouring to get up on
the cliff lest he should lose his gripe altogether. Tom had stuck his
hook into the earth, but he in the same way knew that in attempting to
climb up on to the top of the cliff, he might slip, and fall to the
bottom. Their hope was that somebody might come by and help them, but
that was very unlikely.
"Hold on, Mr Charles, hold on, my lad!" cried Tom. "If I could but
just get the point of a rock to put my knee on, I would soon be on the
firm ground and have you safe in a moment."
"I'm doing my best to hold on," answered Charles, "but the edge is
terribly crumbling; I would make the attempt to get up, but I am nearly
certain that I should fail."
"Then don't try, Mr Charles," said Tom, "I'll shout, and may be one of
the coastguard men or somebody else will hear us. Help, ahoy! help!
help ahoy!" he shouted in a voice which age had not weakened, and which
might have been heard nearly half a mile off, had any one been near
enough.
Charley then joined him in shouting, but no answer came, and Charley
felt as a person does in a dreadful dream, every instant growing weaker
and weaker.
"Tom, I don't think that I can hold on many seconds longer," he at last
said; "good-bye--I must let go--the earth is crumbling away--I am
going--oh?"
At that instant Tom, feeling that Charley's safety depended on his being
able to get on the ground above, made a desperate effort--his hook
became loosened, in vain he tried to dig his fingers into the earth, and
at the same moment that Charley gave his last despairing cry and lost
his hold he lost his; down he came, but not as he expected, on the hard
rock a hundred feet below him, but into a shallow pool not five feet
from where he had been so long hanging.
"Why, where am I?" exclaimed Charley, who, at the same time, had lodged
safely on a green mound close to the pool, and tearing off the
handkerchief from his eyes he looked about him; "after all, those
smugglers are not so bad as we thought them."
"We are at the bottom of a chalk-pit, Mr Charles," answered Tom, "the
fellows have played us a somewhat scurvy trick, but I cannot but say
that it was better than sending us over the cliff and breaking our
necks; howsomdever, the sooner we get out of it the better as I'm wet to
the skin, and would like to take a brisk walk homeward to get dry."
A bright moon was shining, though obscured occasionally by the fast
driving clouds which came up from the south-west, and by its light they
had no difficulty in clambering out of the pit. They were on the top of
some downs, at some distance from the edge of the cliff. However, they
could see the now foam-covered sea, and distinguish vessels far off
running up the Channel before the gale, and thus could take a tolerably
direct road homeward, though neither of them had before been thus far
from the Tower. They hurried on, being certain that the smugglers could
not leave the coast, and hoping that even if one could be captured he
would give information where Margery was to be found.
"Margery! poor dear little Margery, she to be all this time in the power
of these ruffians!" Charley kept saying to himself as he and Tom
hurried on.