I don't know which of us lads gripped his companion's hand the harder as
we saw the struggle begin.
"They'll half kill him," groaned Bigley; and then he remained panting
there with his eyes starting as we saw the men on the lugger, headed by
old Jonas, make a brave defence of their deck, being armed with
capstan-bars and cudgels, while the revenue cutter's men had cutlasses
which flashed in the evening sunshine as if they had been made of gold.
We could hear the sound of the blows, some sounding sharp, which we knew
to be when the bars struck on the sides of the lugger; some dull, when
they struck upon the men; while others made a peculiarly strange
chopping noise, which was of course when sword encountered cudgel.
"It's all over," groaned Bigley at last, as the sailors seemed for the
moment to have mastered the lugger; but just then I saw old Jonas tumble
one man over the side into the boat, and another over the bulwark into
the water with a great splash, and all the while the sails of the lugger
were full, and the little vessel was beginning to move faster and faster
through the water.
One of the men in the gig was still holding on by the bulwark as the
struggle went on, but I suddenly saw old Jonas bring down a cudgel
smartly upon his head, the blow sounding like a sharp rap, when the man
fell back, and my father caught and saved him from going overboard.
The next moment there seemed to be a gap between the lugger and the gig,
and we could see the heads of three men in the water swimming, and the
next minute or two were occupied in dragging them in, two being sailors,
and the other the lieutenant, who stood up in the stern-sheets and shook
himself.
"Heave to!" he roared after the lugger; "heave to, or we'll sink you!"
"Ha, ha, ha, ha!" came in a mocking laugh, that from its hoarse
harshness was evidently old Jonas's, and the lugger heeled over now and
began to skim through the water.
"Why, they're going to run for it," I cried excitedly.
"But the cutter will sink them," panted Bigley. "Oh, father, father,
why didn't you take me too?"
"Never mind that, Big," I cried. "Look, they're going to row to the
cutter."
For the oars were dipping regularly now as the gig was turned towards
the cutter, aboard which there was an evident change. Her main-sail,
which had been shaking in the breeze, gradually filled; we saw the
stay-sail run up, and the beautiful boat came gliding towards the gig so
as to pick her up with her crew before going in pursuit.
"How quickly she sails!" cried Bigley. "Once they've got their men on
board they'll go like the wind."
"But they haven't got them on board yet," I said, unable in spite of
myself to help feeling a little sympathy for the man who was making such
a bold effort to escape. "Why, they're taking my father prisoner
instead of yours, Bigley. I hope they'll bring him back."
"Look!" cried Bigley; "father's getting up a topsail, and that'll help
them along wonderfully."
"Look!" I cried; "the cutter's close up to the gig now."
"Hurrah!" cried Bigley; "there goes the topsail. Look how tight they've
hauled the sheets, and how the lugger heels over."
"The cutter has the gig alongside," I cried as excitedly, for, though I
did not want old Jonas caught, my father was there.
"Why, they're running out another spar," cried Bigley, "so as to hoist
more sail. Look at the lugger, how she is spinning along!"
"Yes," I said; "but look at the cutter now!"
Bigley drew a long breath as he saw with me that the gig's crew were on
board the cutter, and that the boat was being hoisted up, while, at the
same time, with the speed to be seen on a man-of-war, even if it be so
insignificant a vessel as a revenue cutter, sail was being hoisted, and
she was off full chase.
First we saw the jib-sail run up and fill. Then up went the gaff
topsail, and as it filled the cutter seemed to lie over, so that we
could not see her deck, while the white water foamed away from her bows,
and she left a long streak behind.
She was now well opposite to the Gap, down which the breeze blew
straight. In fact the cutter seemed to have too much sail up, and
rushed through the water at a tremendous rate.
"She'll soon catch the lugger going like that, Big," I said. "Look!
Your father's not going straight away; he's going more off the land."
"Yes, because he knows what he's doing. He wants to get more out so as
to catch the wind. You'll see in a few minutes the cutter won't go half
so fast. Hah! I was afraid of that."
For just then there was a puff of smoke from the cutter, and we could
just make out, by the way it dipped, the round shot that went
ricochetting over the sea.
"That will stop him," I said gloomily.
"No, it will not," said Bigley angrily. "You don't know my father.
He'll keep on as long as the lugger will swim."
I shook my head as I strained my eyes at the exciting chase going on
before me.
Bigley was right, for in place of lowering sails in token of submission,
the lugger ran out another from her bows, and kept on her rapid flight,
altering her course though, so as not to offer so fair a mark to the
cutter, and the cutter seemed to spit out viciously another puff of
white smoke, and then there was a dull thud and an echo among the rocks.
We could not trace the course of the shot, but it evidently did not hit
its mark, the first having probably been aimed ahead.
"They can't hit her," cried Bigley, clapping his hands. "Oh, I wish I
was aboard."
"What, to be shot at?" I said.
"Let them shoot!" he cried. "I should like to be there. Now, then,
what did I tell you? The cutter is not going half so fast now."
He was quite right, for, as the white-sailed vessel got beyond the
entrance to the Gap, she was more and more under the shelter of the huge
headland and the mighty cliffs that ran on for miles, and instead of
lying over so that we half expected to see her keel, she rode more
steadily and upright in the water, and her speed was evidently far less.
Another white puff of smoke, and another shot sent skipping after the
lugger, but with what result we could not see. The firing made no
difference, though, to the lugger, which continued its course towards
the west, and Bigley gave me a triumphant look from time to time.
The firing had now become regular, and had brought down all the miners
from the pit, and Mother Bonnet, to see the exciting chase. One climbed
up the side of the Gap here, another there, and then higher and higher,
and seeing the advantageous position they occupied I turned quickly to
Bigley.
"Run and get the glass, Big," I said, "and then we'll climb right up to
the top of the head."
Big shook his head.
"Father has it in the lugger," he said; "but let's climb up all the
same."
We knew the ways of the great headland better than the people, and were
about to start upon our climb when Mother Bonnet came up and caught
Bigley's arm.
"Think they'll get away, Master Big?" she whispered with her face
mottled with white blotches.
"I'm sure of it," he cried triumphantly. "It will soon be dark, too,
and father will run in and out among the rocks where the cutter daren't
follow."
"To be sure he will," said the old woman with a nod and a smile. "They
will get away if--if--Oh! There goes that horrible gun again!"
The poor creature turned white and hurried away from us to get a better
view of the chase, while Bigley and I climbed right up by degrees to the
very highest point of the headland and sat upon the rocks watching the
long chase, with the cutter, in spite of her superior rig and sailing
powers, seeming to get no nearer to her prey, while the evening shadows
were descending, and the two vessels kept growing more distant from the
Gap.
The cutter continued firing at regular intervals, and once we thought
that the lugger was hit. But if she was the shot made no difference to
her attempts at escape; and though we stayed up there in our windy
look-out, fully expecting to see her lying like a wounded bird upon the
water with broken wing, no spar came down, and at last the fugitive and
the pursuer had become specks in the distance, fading completely from
our sight.
"It's no use to stay any longer," I said. "Let's go down now."
Bigley strained his eyes westward and seemed unwilling to stir.
"It will be so dark directly we shall have a job to get down," I said.
"Your father's sure to get away."
"Yes," said Bigley; "they'll never catch him now. He'll get right away
in the darkness."
Just then there was a familiar hail from below.
"Chowne, ahoy!" I responded; and as we reached to about half-way down
we encountered Bob coming up panting and excited.
"You are a nice couple!" he began to grumble. "I do call it mean."
"What is mean?" I said.
"Why, to have all the fun to yourselves and never send for a fellow. If
it hadn't been for the firing I shouldn't have known anything about it.
I wouldn't have been so shabby to you."
"Why, I didn't think about you, Bob," I said.
"That's just like you, Sep Duncan. But I say, what a game!"
"I don't see much game in it," I said sadly. "Big's father is in the
lugger, and mine--"
"In the cutter trying to catch him," cried Bob. "Oh, I say, what a
game!"
"Look here!" said Bigley in a deep husky voice, "come down along with
me, Sep, and take hold of my arm. I feel as if I wanted to fight."
I did as he asked me and we went down, with Bob very silent coming
behind, evidently feeling that he had said too much.
Bigley went straight to the cottage, where Mother Bonnet was waiting for
him and ready to catch him by the shoulder.
"There now, my dear! It's of no use for you to hang away," said the old
woman. "I've got a nice supper ready, and you must eat or else you
won't be able to help your poor father if he should come back."
"But he won't come back," said Bigley. "He will not dare."
"I don't know what he may not do when it's quite dark," said the old
woman. "There! You come and sit down, and you too, my dears, for you
must be famished."
Bigley yielded, and Bob and I were going away, but Bigley jumped up and
stopped us.
"I'm not bad friends, Bob," he said, holding out his hand. "You didn't
mean what you said, only when a fellow speaks against my father it hurts
me, and--"
"I'm so sorry, Big," exclaimed Bob eagerly, and they shook hands.