THE SECRET HARBOUR
Ben and Dare found themselves in complete darkness. Their surprise
at their sudden imprisonment robbed them of speech for the moment,
then found expression.
"Here's a mess!" exclaimed Ben.
Dare nodded, then remembered that Ben could not see him in the dark.
"We might have expected something like this," he said.
"Well, there'll be a reckoning, no fear of that," growled Ben angrily.
"So long as it's a reckoning we don't have to pay, I don't mind,"
said Dare, for Pierre's personality had impressed him and he could
not help remembering the summary treatment handed out to his father.
"Never a fear. It won't be us who'll pay. Keep up your pecker, Mr.
Dare."
"Not so loud, Ben," warned Dare in a whisper. "We don't know if
anyone can hear us or not."
"Aye, that's so. A word in season. Well, we won't stay in the dark
anyhow; I've got some matches."
Striking one of them, he looked round for a lamp. One was discovered
hanging over the bed. It took only a moment to light it. By its
glow they were enabled to examine more completely the room in which
they were confined.
It had but one outlet: the door through which they had entered. One
side of the room gave upon the hold; the other three walls were
formed by the side of the ship and two strong partitions. The door
was of mahogany and too strong to be forced. There were perforations
above it, but that was the only way air could get in or out, for
there was no port-hole or fanlight.
"As watertight as a coffin," was Ben's estimate of their quarters.
"We'll get out when he's a mind to let us out, and not before." He
tried the door, just to substantiate his estimate of its solidity.
It did not budge.
"Well, here we are," he declared philosophically, and sat down on the
bed.
Dare followed his example. Their minds went back simultaneously to
the moment of the accident.
"We found the _Mary_ all right," said Ben grimly, "but I never
thought we'd learn where she was like we did."
"I happened to look to the leeward," said Dare, "and I saw her on top
of us, I gave a shout."
"Aye, I heard it just before the crash. I was wellnigh throwed
overboard by the shock. But it so happened that when I flung out me
hand I found the _Mary's_ bob-stay, and hung on to it. Our boat sunk
in two minutes."
"She must have been cut right in half," said Dare.
"Aye."
They both considered their marvellous escape for a few minutes, then
relegated it to the back of their minds as a subject for future
discussion. There were other things to be considered now.
"I don't think there's any suspicion as to who we are," whispered
Dare close to Ben's ear.
"Nary a bit," agreed Ben. "You noticed how quick he was to believe
we was smugglers like hisself?"
"Yes. You did that well. First and last you've had to tell a lot of
whoppers, Ben."
"Ah, sure, they is not black lies, they is just white lies. There's
no one goin' to think the worse of me fer them."
"Not at all. I wonder what's going to happen now."
"There's no sayin'. Dear knows what he wouldn't do if he got an
inklin' of our business."
Dare agreed. "We've got to try and get more in his confidence," he
said.
"That'll take some doin'."
Their conversation was interrupted suddenly by the hurrying of feet
overhead and the distinct roar of breakers.
"Heavens! he's driving her ashore!" exclaimed Dare.
"He's certainly taking her near the land," admitted Ben anxiously.
They listened to the light, running footsteps overhead. Except for
that sound, considerably deadened by the roar of the breakers, no
other noise reached their ears. The _Mary_ was making port with a
minimum of disturbance on board. Dare and Ben tried to visualize the
conditions of the ship's approach to the land, but only succeeded in
being puzzled. They were off a straight and precipitous coast
intersected here and there by coves, but so far as they knew with
nothing in the way of a harbour. Yet here was the _Mary_ practically
among the breakers, and still going ahead! It seemed that there was
a secret harbour of some sort. Otherwise, how account for the
schooner's nearness to the shore?--unless Pierre had overestimated
his distance from the land and had suddenly found his ship among the
breakers. But that event would surely have produced more alarm and
accompanying noise than was evidenced on deck now.
Their puzzled thoughts found expression. "Why did they lower the
masts, Ben? You heard the order. It's strange for a boat this size
to have masts that can be lowered at will, isn't it?"
"Aye. And why wait for low water, when low water means there'll only
be a few inches under her keel?"
"It's as if they had to go under something...."
"Mr. Dare!" exclaimed Ben, "you've hit on the very thing. They're
goin' under somethin'; somethin' that's not very high and therefore
has to be gone under at the lowest tide possible!"
There seemed indeed reason to believe that Dare had discovered the
solution of the puzzle.
"But under what?" asked Dare.
"Aye, that's the question. I can't begin to think of what. It
passes belief or understandin' when you thinks of the coast we're on."
The roar of the breakers suddenly increased. At the same moment
there came a decided bump of the vessel's keel as it touched bottom.
For a wild moment Dare and Ben thought the ship lost and visualized
themselves being drowned like rats in a trap. Then the ship floated
tranquilly again....
And then, with only the previous roar of the breakers for warning,
there broke upon their ears a perfect pandemonium of sound. Even in
their retreat they had to raise their voices to be heard above it.
It was as if immense copper gongs were being beaten with giant
hammers of steel.
It took Dare and Ben several minutes to recover their equanimity.
Then Ben burst into excited speech.
"We're in a cave!" he shouted. "We're in a cave! That's the sea
breakin', that sound we hears. Of all things! Would you believe it!"
Dare willingly believed it. There was no other adequate explanation.
The cave would act as an enormous sound-box with super-acoustic
properties, and the waves breaking against its rocky walls would echo
in its vaulted roof until the sound emanating from them would be
increased a thousandfold, developing into the din of an inferno. But
a cave large enough to harbour a schooner of sixty tons! It did not
seem feasible. If it existed it would surely be too well known to
make a safe base for the smugglers. Yet----
"I believe you're right, Ben," said Dare, "but I can't conceive a
cave like that."
"Aye, it must be a big one. An' to think we passed close to this
coast and didn't see it! Hallo!" he added, "they're takin' off the
hatches. And listen, you can hear shoutin'."
It seemed that with the entering of the secret harbour all caution
was thrown aside, so sure were the smugglers of the safety of their
retreat. There were shouts from many throats echoing in the vault in
which the ship lay, sounding above the terrific clamour as the shrill
cries of the seagulls sound above a great storm. Accompanying the
shouts were the creak of tackle and the noise of the cargo being
dumped on deck. There was great activity in the hold, separated from
them by a single stout partition, and voices speaking French and
English reached their ears.
There seemed to be a score of men; certainly many more than the ship
carried as crew. Dare and Ben's curiosity grew almost beyond bounds.
They would have given anything to be on deck, witnessing what was
going on. If they remained imprisoned while the ship was in the cave
they would be no wiser as to its position on the coast than before
they entered it.
Ben threw his bulk against the locked door once or twice, more as a
result of impatience than in the belief that he could force an exit
through it. Then he desisted.
They sat for some time, half an hour or so, listening to the feverish
activity centring about the ship. Then, so unexpectedly as to
startle them, there came the sound of the key being turned in the
lock. The door opened and Pierre once more stood before them.
Neither Ben nor Dare moved. Pierre entered the room, closed the
door, and placed his back against it, smiling sardonically the while.
"High-handed actions, cap'n," said Ben at last.
"It was necessary," returned Pierre frankly. "I couldn't have you
coming on deck at the moment of making harbour. I'm on private
business, you understand; that's why I've been puzzled what to do
with you. Now I've made up my mind. You'll have to come back to St.
Pierre with me."
"It's as you say, cap'n," Ben agreed, hardly able to hide his relief
and satisfaction. "We're seemin'ly at your mercy. I reckon you'll
pay for the boat?"
"I'll pay as I promised," said Pierre; "seventy-five dollars. You'll
get it when I put you ashore, and I'll expect you to keep your mouth
shut in the bargain."
"You can count on that, cap'n. I'm no tale-bearer. Sure, you could
land your liquor and tobaccy in broad daylight as far as I'm
concerned."
Pierre did not look so startled as this revelation of Ben's knowledge
of his business would have caused one to expect. He seemed to think
temporizing necessary, however.
"Liquor and tobacco!" he said. "What are you talking about?"
The pretence was vain.
"Sure, cap'n, I can smell both a mile away, and this boat stinks of
them," declared Ben boldly.
There certainly was a distinct odour of both in the cabin. The fact
had to be recognized, though not explained, as far as Pierre was
concerned, even if indirectly he acknowledged its existence.
"Well, what about it?"
"Nothin'," said Ben. "We knows what we knows. I've done the same on
a smaller scale in me time."
Pierre said nothing for a moment or two, but eyed them thoughtfully,
as though once more in doubt as to the best way to handle the
situation.
"This makes a difference," he said at last; "but I've no time to talk
to you now. There's work for me on deck."
Then, with the same swift movements which had characterized his
entrance, he let himself out of the room, once more locking the door
behind him.
"Now you've gone and done it!" declared Dare ruefully.
"How so?" asked Ben.
"Why, do you think he's going to be as easy with us now that we've as
good as told him we know he's a smuggler?"
"Why not? He must have known we guessed there was something funny in
the wind or he wouldn't have asked us to keep our mouths shut."
"Nevertheless, I don't see why you wanted to make him certain we
knew."
"I thought it best to be open," explained Ben. "If we'd pretended we
didn't smell somethin' fishy he might have suspected we wasn't on the
square with him. Never a fear, we won't lose by that. One thing,
he'll be open with us now."
Dare looked dubious and paced up and down the confined space at their
disposal. He eyed their quarters moodily, his gaze wandering from
the bed to the charts on the walls, the bare floor, and the one chair
and desk. On top of the desk was an assortment of small articles, a
few screws, a pair of compasses, a file, a tin of tobacco, a pocket
knife, and a key. The latter caught Dare's attention and a surmise
rose to his mind. He took the key, regarded it for an instant; then,
going to the door, thrust it in the lock. He turned it. It
functioned, and the door came open under his grasp.
When this happened Ben, who had been regarding Dare's movements
curiously, rose to his feet with an exclamation. Dare turned to him
with suppressed eagerness.
"It's open!" he said.
"Aye."
They both stared at the open door thoughtfully, then Ben resumed his
sitting posture on the bed.
"You'd better shut it again," he advised.
"Why?"
"What good'll it do us? If we went on deck Pierre would be as mad as
blazes and we'd spoil what we've done. Even if we could get away, we
don't want to go yet awhile. Not until we knows where this here cave
is."
"We could get a look at it now, if we went on deck."
"Too risky. You don't want Pierre to catch you spyin'."
Dare was not to be dissuaded, however. He was fired at the thought
of catching a glimpse of the secret harbour and the activity on deck.
"I'm going, anyhow," he said, and after ascertaining that the cabin
was empty he slipped out of the room, taking care to shut the door
firmly behind him. He stood still in the middle of the cabin for a
full minute, then cautiously mounted the ladder leading to the deck.
He was facing the taffrail as his head emerged. There was no one in
that part of the ship. He summoned sufficient nerve to raise his
head high enough above the shutter to view the whole of the scene
about him.
The ship, as Ben had surmised, was in a cave. An immense cave it
was, vaulted like a cathedral. Huge splinters of rock hung like
icicles from its roof, and its walls gleamed black as ebony in the
light of immense flares which dotted the ship's deck and rose in
tiers high up into the cave, illuminating what Dare guessed to be a
rocky stair leading either to the cliff-top or to some inner chamber.
Yet so intense was the blackness within the cave that the flares only
lit up their immediate vicinity, and deepened the intensity of the
darkness outside their bright circles.
There was grandeur in the scene, a grandeur heightened by the great
volume of sound which echoed through the cave like the emanations of
a gigantic pipe organ with all stops pulled full out. The noise had
been immense even when heard in the seclusion of the cabin, but here
on deck it was deafening.
The mind rocked under its assault and in Dare it caused a confusion
which made the scene partake of the quality of a nightmare. The
flitting figures of the crew, each carrying a case and sometimes two
on his shoulders, had an air of unreality. Their activities seemed
fantastic and their movements queerly mechanical. The cave seemed to
hold itself aloof from the use to which it was being put, gloomily
voicing continual rumblings which might be interpreted as threats to
the invaders, but which served the smugglers as a perfect cloak for
their illicit work.
So far as Dare could see there was no beach here. The water ran deep
right to the cave's limits, and the ship was lying close against the
rock, her side protected by immense rope fenders.
The crew were carrying the cargo up a sloping, winding staircase
whose top was lost sight of in the gloom, a narrow, treacherous
staircase which it seemed that only goats could safely tread, but
which the smugglers mounted with facility.
Dare searched in vain for the entrance to the cave. It was hidden in
the gloom, but from the shape of the immense vaulted roof he could
imagine it as being little more than a hole in the face of the cliff;
a cliff solid in appearance, but hollowed out by some freak of nature.
No wonder the smugglers considered their base as being perfect for
their purpose. It was all that Dare had ever conceived a smugglers'
cave could be, and more. It was like no smugglers' cave he had ever
seen or read of. He was a little awed by it, so strong an impression
did its grandeur make on his sensibility.
He crouched in the companion-way, lost to the danger of detection,
his whole mind given up to consideration and appreciation of the
scene around him. The crew, fortunately, were too occupied to notice
so small an object as his head rising above the cabin shutter, even
if they had been able to see it in the shadows cast by the rigging.
He remained there, safe from disturbance or discovery, until the
sudden emergence of the men from the hold caused him to think that
the cargo had been discharged. He caught sight of Pierre and some of
the crew making their way aft, and swiftly, with a minimum of noise,
he returned to the cabin and Ben's company.