CAPTAIN STANLEY ACTS
Captain Stanley was closeted with the captain of the Revenue cutter
_Drake_, which had anchored off Saltern at eleven o'clock that night.
Despite the lateness of the hour Captain McDonnell had come ashore to
call, some rumours having reached him concerning the attack to which
his colleague and friend had been subjected.
An all-night session had thus been inaugurated, for Captain Stanley
had much to discuss and much to plan, following the opportune visit
of the _Drake_. He gave Captain McDonnell the full story of his
activities since reaching Saltern, including the departure of Ben and
Dare for St. Pierre. Captain McDonnell felt inclined to deprecate
the latter action, but he held his peace, seeing that his friend was
already reaping the consequences. For Captain Stanley had been made
uneasy and finally alarmed by the continued silence of the two
adventurers.
"I'd look upon it as a personal favour," he said to Captain
McDonnell, "if you would call at St. Pierre and set inquiries on
foot. I admit now that I made a mistake in sending those two there.
I should have known that those smuggling fellows were unscrupulous
and that if they ever came to suspect Ben and Dare it would go hard
with them. Of course, there may be some simple reason for their
silence. But I have my fears."
"I'll call there, certainly," said McDonnell. "We'll leave the first
thing at daybreak."
Captain Stanley nodded and continued: "Then, if you don't mind, I'd
like you to come back here and help me clean up this nest. I'll
borrow your crew for a land attack. I'll find that cache or know the
reason why. It's time the high-handed actions of those fellows were
put a stop to."
"We'll back your moves, certainly," said McDonnell vigorously. "I'd
give a good deal to see those fellows put under restraint. They've
made me a joke on the coast for years. Of course, as you know,
except for chasing bait pirates we're not much use here. We're
almost helpless so far as the liquor trade is concerned. We can't
stop every small boat we see on suspicion. That would be only
trouble for nothing, for these fellows, I am convinced, run only on
dark nights and usually when the _Drake_ is on another route. For
they're well informed. I wouldn't be surprised if they didn't know I
was here now; at least, I'm sure they've heard I'm due within
twenty-four hours, for I took care to make it known at St. Mary's
that I should be here then. But I altered my course and got here
about fourteen hours ahead of time. I thought it wouldn't be a bad
idea to get here before I was expected, considering all the
circumstances."
"You did well," Captain Stanley assured him, then broke into a sudden
exclamation. For there had sounded at the door a series of loud,
insistent knocks. Knocks at that time of the night, or morning,
rather! Both men stared at each other; Captain Stanley in a sort of
dread.
"One of my fellows, I expect," said McDonnell, "though why he's come
I don't know. I'd better go down and open the door, hadn't I?"
"Yes, yes, go down," commanded Captain Stanley, and literally pushed
his friend from the room.
A very few minutes later Captain McDonnell returned, his face
transfigured with excitement.
"Stanley, here's news, good news!" he shouted joyously, and dragged
Dare into the room; a Dare naked to the waist, covered with sweat
through which oozed blood from one or two deep scratches, his feet
ragged bundles of cloth, his riotous hair tumbling over eyes ablaze
with excitement.
"Good heavens!" cried Captain Stanley. "Dare, my boy! Are you hurt?"
Dare fervently shook the hand he found in his. "Not a bit!" he
gasped, for he was winded a little. "Fit as a riddle ... I've just
escaped ... listen----"
"Not a word!" broke in his father authoritatively; "not a word! Rub
him down, McDonnell, he's wet and chilled. I'll rouse Martha and get
him a dry shift. There's spirits in the cupboard. Give him a dose."
Dare was forced to submit to these ministrations. Several times he
essayed to tell his story, pleading urgency, but his father would not
hear a word of it till he was once more in dry clothes, with the
warmth of the spirit coursing through his veins.
Then he was permitted to speak. He told his story quickly, beginning
with the hour they had left Saltern and leading up to his dramatic
escape and subsequent adventures. Both auditors failed to conceal
their astonishment and even horror at the risks he had taken. But
they were too much occupied by the dramatic development his
adventures had made possible to censure him at the moment.
"McDonnell, we've got them!" exclaimed Captain Stanley.
"We have, indeed!"
"Now as to plans---- What a bit of luck, your turning up on this
night of all nights! I must have your crew."
"And myself with them, I hope?"
"Of course. Now, Dare, my boy, you're sure of your facts? Near the
Table, I think you said?"
"Yes, sir."
"I've passed it a dozen times. There is a hole in the cliff there.
A good-sized one, when you go near it. But I could never have
believed it is what you say if I hadn't been told. I remember the
first time I saw it the fisherman who was with me explained why it
was known locally as the Oven. He said that there was deep water
inside and no beach, and that the suction and noise of the sea
forcing itself into the chasm made a noise like that of a lot of
copper pans being banged about. So some local wit called it the
Oven. I never dreamed that it was practicable for the smugglers'
purposes, a cave without a beach! Of course, I never imagined a back
exit. Who would, looking at the solid face of the cliff? Why, the
old fisherman even warned me not to enter it, giving as a reason the
fact that there were huge splinters of rock hanging from its roof and
that from time to time there were regular avalanches of these
splinters, so that it was highly dangerous to go into the cave. And
I believed him, for certainly the fishermen never seemed to go near
it. Well, it's a lesson to me not to overlook even the remotest
possibility after this.
"McDonnell, we must attack from both ends. I'll have to nab them at
the sea end because of my leg, which prevents me from walking. I'll
take one of your boats and a good crew. We'll make our way to the
Oven and lie off it, waiting for your signal. For I want you to take
a dozen men and go with Dare to the land entrance. You think you can
find it, Dare?"
"Absolutely, sir! It's on the top of the second ridge near the
cliff-end, and to make sure I could find it again I tied my
handkerchief to a bough."
"Good boy! You say they come out in single file?"
"Yes, sir."
"That gives you a perfect chance to nab them one by one as they come
out, McDonnell. Knock 'em on the head and tie 'em up, and when
you've got the shore gang fast, flash us a signal from the cliff-top
with your flashlight--three long and one short--then we'll close in
by water and nab the schooner and her crew. Agreed?"
"Agreed," said Captain McDonnell.
"Then we ought to be on our way at once. Your boat's crew is on the
quay, I suppose?"
"I expect so. That's where I left them."
"Then if you'll give me an arm and my stick we'll go there right
away. I'm afraid we won't be in time. Come on, Dare."
Stopping only long enough to speak a few reassuring words to Martha
regarding Ben's safety, the party left the house.
On the quay they found the boat's crew waiting, and were soon rowed
on board the _Drake_. Here the crew were roused and divided into two
parties of eight men each. Arms were served out, for it was felt the
smugglers would put up a determined resistance. Then Captain
McDonnell took to one boat with Dare and his crew, and Captain
Stanley took to the other, with the _Drake's_ second officer as his
second-in-command.
"Give us half an hour to get there, Stanley; then row to the cave.
Don't frighten them at your end before we've nabbed the shore crew.
From what Dare says, however, the noise in the cave is such that they
won't hear anything till we're suddenly among them."
"Right you are," said Captain Stanley. "Keep an eye on Dare. He's
taken enough risks for one night."
"Ready? Push off!" ordered McDonnell, and his boat went surging
harbourwards at a great rate.
The crew beached her near the spot where Dare had found a boat a
little while before, then stepped ashore, moving quietly and
efficiently. Captain McDonnell spoke to one of them, and the man
stooped and filled a large pocket handkerchief with sand, knotting
the cloth into the shape of a bag. The result was a silent,
formidable weapon. He then told Dare to take the lead, and the climb
up the incline began. Dare, though a little tired by excitement and
physical effort, showed no outward signs of fatigue. He led the crew
swiftly and well, and they soon approached the ridge near which the
entrance to the cave was situated. They gained the vicinity of the
entrance without having given the slightest cause for an alarm. The
men fell on hands and knees in negotiating the last few yards. At
last Dare discovered his handkerchief and a halt was signalled. The
men were ranged immediately behind the entrance, so that the
smugglers would emerge with their backs to them.
Captain McDonnell drew one of the crew to his side and whispered an
order. "We'll let the first man who comes out go, so that we can
find out where the cache is. Follow him and don't let him get away
or give an alarm."
The man nodded and saluted. Captain McDonnell then turned to the
sailor whom he had bade fashion the sandbag. "Hit every man who
comes out after the first fellow, so that you don't have to hit
twice," he ordered. "Two men will ease them down to the ground to
prevent a noise. The others will tie them up and lay them on one
side. Every man is to be treated in the same way. No unnecessary
noise, if you value your extra pay."
There was silence then. Dare, who was not the least excited of the
crew, felt as though his breath was being emitted in stentorian
snorts, which would surely warn the smugglers of his and his
companions' presence.
The suspense of waiting did not last long, however. There suddenly
sounded a noise as though a foot had slipped on a pebble. It was
followed by a human grunt, and the muffled sound of human speech.
The waiting men stiffened expectantly. Then, when they had begun to
wonder if they had not been deceived, and even to be subjected to the
fear that they had arrived too late, a man's head and shoulders rose
out of the middle of the bushes behind which they were crouching. He
was carrying two or three heavy cases hung sling-fashion from his
shoulders, and went staggering inland. The member of the crew
detailed to follow him slipped quietly in his wake, and both were
soon lost sight of in the darkness.
The watchers sighed with relief. They were in time, and the coup had
begun well. Without warning another man appeared. The sandbag
descended on his head as he set foot in the open. Two of the sailors
caught him as he sagged, and lowered body and plunder to the ground.
Quickly others of the crew dragged both away.
Captain McDonnell counted the seconds as they passed. Dare, his
heart beating at a suffocating rate, did likewise. Three men then
appeared so close behind each other that the last emerged before his
predecessor could be dragged from his path. His suspicions were
aroused, but before he could cry out the sandbag fell once again.
There was a dull report as man and packages crashed to the earth, but
no alarm was taken. Five more men appeared in quick succession.
Each was treated in similar fashion, and the whole proceeding was
carried out so expertly that those in the cave had not the slightest
suspicion of the Nemesis on their track.
"I think that's all the shore crew," whispered Dare, when the tenth
man had been trussed. "I counted ten the other time."
"We'll wait five minutes," said Captain McDonnell. "Then, before
those in the cave can get uneasy about these fellows, we'll signal
your father and he can take them by surprise as we planned."
The five minutes passed without anyone appearing. Captain McDonnell
then took an electric torch from his pocket and made his way to the
edge of the cliff. Holding the torch so that it would be visible
from below, he flashed it on and off--three long and one short. He
waited anxiously for a minute, then saw a single spot of light show
for an instant below. His signal had been received. He hurried back
to the waiting crew.
The latter were in a tremendous state of excitement, for they were
looking forward to a fight. Hitherto, although the adventure had
been of a sporting character, it had not proved exceptionally
thrilling. But if, as they expected, Captain McDonnell gave the
order to descend into the cave, there would certainly be a fight, and
not one of them but, like overgrown schoolboys, was excited by the
prospect.
Captain McDonnell noted the change in their attitude and smiled to
himself in the darkness. "We'll give the boat five minutes to get
into the cave, men," he said cheerfully. But before the five minutes
had expired there came from the sea, in the vicinity of the cave, the
report of a rifle.
"They've begun!" shouted Captain McDonnell, throwing aside all
caution with the disappearance of the need for it. "After me, men!"
He leapt into the bushes and disappeared. With a hearty cheer the
crew precipitately followed his example. They could be heard
tumbling down and shouting warnings to those behind them, warnings
which were totally disregarded, for in that moment not one of the
party had a thought for his own neck, and they would have leapt a
precipice if there was a fight going on at the bottom of it.
Dare, as the youngest and weakest, had been forced to the tail-end of
the procession. His turn soon came, however. He leapt into the
bushes as recklessly as any of his predecessors and fell with a
resounding bump for a distance of ten feet, for at the entrance to
the cave the stair was absolutely perpendicular. He picked himself
up, felt for broken bones, and not finding any made his way as fast
as possible after the rest of the crew. The formation of the passage
was such that the tremendous din of the cave did not penetrate it.
All Dare could hear was the shouts of the crew ahead. Flares such as
he had viewed from the _Mary's_ deck lighted his way. The stair
followed a zigzag course, and suddenly he found himself in full sight
and hearing of the cave. It was about sixty feet below him.
The flares revealed the _Mary_ lying by the side of the rock. On her
deck were struggling demoniac figures, staggering like drunken men
from one rail to the other. And below him, just above the
landing-place, Captain McDonnell and his crew were encountering those
of the smugglers who, seeing the danger from the sea, had attempted
to escape by the stair.
The wildness of the scene, half revealed in the supernatural light of
the flares, held him spellbound. So great was the din given off by
the surging water in the cave that no sound of the furious battle in
progress rose above it. Voices, blows, oaths, and cries of pain and
alarm were drowned by the great voice of the cave, which seemed to
exert itself in an effort to obliterate every human sound in its
vicinity.
Now and then in the light of the flares Dare saw an agonized face, a
lifted weapon; but no sound accompanied either revelation. It was as
if the fight were being carried on in dumb-show.
He hurried down the stairs to join in the affray, throwing aside
caution, which had no place in any of those there that night. As he
neared Captain McDonnell's party, which was gradually forcing the
smugglers back on board the _Mary_, where they were being severely
handled by Captain Stanley and his crew, he saw one of the fellows
escape and make a dart up the stair towards him. He waited for the
man to get within jumping distance, then launched himself
precipitately upon him.
The smuggler gave a grunt as Dare struck him, and collapsed. Both
went rolling over and over down the stairs and, bouncing past the
struggling crew, who were too much occupied to notice them, rolled
off the ledge into the water.
Dare, half-winded, felt the smuggler's hold relax and came above
water blowing noisily. He saw his opponent rise about the same time
and make for the rock, a knife between his teeth. A flare revealed
him climbing up the face of the ledge. Then an arm reached out,
dragged him over, and clubbed him with a rifle before he could raise
a hand in defence.
Dare did not care to risk being treated in similar fashion by his own
party in the dark. He looked about him and for the second time that
night found himself under the bowsprit of the _Mary_. He clambered
into the head rigging and eventually reached the schooner's deck.
The mass of the struggling men were centred aft on the landing side.
The smugglers were between two fires, the land party and the sea
party, and as they were outnumbered nearly two to one it was only a
matter of minutes before they would be overpowered. Nevertheless,
they were putting up a desperate resistance. At such close quarters
the _Drake's_ crew found their rifles worse than useless. Even if
they had desired to fire on the smugglers they could not have done so
without bringing down some of their own men. So the battle
degenerated into a bout of fisticuffs, with here and there a blow
from a stick and the attempted use of a knife.
Dare made a vain effort to force his way between the backs of the sea
crew in order to get a chance for a crack at the enemy. Finding his
attempt hopeless--for the _Drake's_ men were massed shoulder to
shoulder in fighting formation--he ran round the cabin so as to reach
the landing side farther aft.
As he passed the companion-way he stopped to take a glance down into
the cabin. It was deserted. He was about to pass on when he saw the
door of the captain's stateroom tremble as though under an assault.
At the same instant he heard a concerted cry of victory from the
_Drake's_ men. He did not hesitate longer, but jumped down into the
cabin. And as he did so he suddenly remembered Ben. It was Ben, of
course, who was in the room! He had heard Pierre give the order to
lock him up. And he had forgotten the poor old chap completely until
this instant! He ran to the door. The key was in the lock. He
turned it, opened the door, and was confronted by Ben.
The old sailor staggered backwards when he saw Dare before him. "Mr.
Dare!" he exclaimed, and his voice trembled.
He reached out a horny hand and grabbed Dare's arm as though to
convince himself of its solidity. "Mr. Dare!" he exclaimed again,
tears of thankfulness and joy in his eyes. "Then you're not drowned?"
Dare wrung the old fellow's hand excitedly.
"No, no, not at all. Why, I _jumped_ overboard. I wanted to get
word to Saltern, and I didn't tell you for fear you'd prevent me.
And I did it, Ben, I did it! We've captured the lot!"
"Then it was fighting I heard?"
"Yes, yes!"
"On deck!" shouted Ben, the light of battle in his eyes. But before
they could make a move a wild figure suddenly filled the
companion-way, and leaping down into the cabin confronted them
menacingly.
It was Pierre. Blood was running down his face. His eyes were
bloodshot. His shirt was torn from his body, which gleamed darkly.
He had the wild, distracted appearance of one who had suffered
overwhelming, humiliating defeat.
When he saw Dare he cried aloud:
"You! Then you didn't drown? Ah, now I see it all! You swam ashore
and gave us away, eh? Curse you, you'll suffer for that!"
He leapt towards Dare, who stood his ground. But suddenly he was
swept backwards by Ben, who drove in two fists to the charging
Pierre's chest. They rang as on hollow wood.
"All right, you first!" raged Pierre, and swung two heavy blows to
Ben's head. The latter staggered, then shook off the effect of the
blows doggedly. He sprang in and was enfolded by Pierre in a
bear-like hug. Ben managed to trip his opponent. They fell to the
floor, rolling over and over, kicking, gouging, biting. For Pierre
was not in a mood to waste time on finesse; and Ben was forced to
meet him with his own methods in an effort at self-preservation.
Dare, his face strained and white, watched the uneven conflict. He
knew Ben had no chance in a rough-and-tumble with Pierre, and he
sought to aid him before he should be crippled or worse. He hovered
round the two, watching his chance. But it was impossible to
distinguish between the opponents, so swift and tortuous were their
movements.
Then suddenly Pierre managed to drive his knee deep into Ben's
stomach. Ben gave an immense sigh as the air was expelled from his
lungs, then relaxed his hold and lay helpless. Pierre, as quick as a
panther, was on his feet, his face disfigured with hate and rage. He
raised his heavily booted foot, aiming at the prostrate figure on the
floor.
Dare suddenly felt the red tide of hate rise in himself, a hate of
the cowardly and brutal gesture.
"No, you don't!" he shrieked vindictively, and raising the wooden
pump-handle he had seized as a weapon when he came on board, he
brought it down heavily on Pierre's flaming head.
The heavy, poised foot stopped in mid-air. The kick was never
delivered. Pierre was struck suddenly immobile, then his body sagged
like a bag of sawdust and he fell to the floor without a word or a
cry. The last of the smugglers had been taken.