Like all bits of excitement the coming of the cutter was followed by a
time of calm. Bigley seemed to have settled down to a regular life at
the cottage, spending part of his days looking out to sea, and the other
part up at the mine, where my father seemed now to give him always a
very warm welcome.
We saw the revenue cutter off the Gap now and then, and we had reason to
believe that the crew had landed and thoroughly examined the caves
again, but we saw nothing of them; it was only from knowing that one
evening the little vessel lay off the shore about a mile to the west of
the Gap, and Bigley went along the shore at next low tide, and said
afterwards that he thought he could make out footprints, but the tide
had washed over everything so much that he was not sure.
He heard no news of his father as week after week rolled by, till all at
once came a letter from Dunquerque, inclosing some money, and telling
him that he had got away safely, and was quite well.
"He said," Bigley told me in confidence, for he did not show me the
letter; "he said that if your father behaved badly to me I was to go
away at once with Mother Bonnet and take lodgings at Ripplemouth, just
as he told me; but I don't think I shall have to do that."
I laughed as he told me this, and then asked him if he was going to
write back to his father.
"No," said Bigley; "he says I am not to write, because it might give
people a clue to where he is. I don't care, now I know that he is quite
well."
Then the time glided on, with everybody at the mine leading the busiest
of busy lives. I was there every day, and the men won the lead, others
smelted it and cast it into pigs, then the pigs were remelted and the
silver extracted and ingots cast, which were stored up, after being
stamped and numbered, down in the strong cellar beneath the
counting-house floor.
I did a great deal: sometimes I was down in the mine, whose passages
began to grow longer; sometimes I was entering the number of pigs of
lead that were taken over to Ripplemouth, and shipped at the little quay
for Bristol; sometimes I was watching the careful process by which the
silver was obtained from the lead, and learning a good deal about the
art, while Bigley seemed to be growing more and more one of us, and
worked with the greatest of earnestness over the various tasks I had to
undertake.
"No news of old Jonas, father?" I said one day as we were walking along
the cliff path to the mine, a lugger in the offing having brought him to
my mind.
"No, Sep," said my father; "but I'm afraid that we shall have a visit
from him some day, and a very unpleasant one."
"Why?" I asked.
"Because he will never forgive me about that cave business. I saw the
look he gave me, my boy. He does not seem to have any very great ideas
of the meaning of the word honour, and he evidently could not see then
that I was bound to state what I had seen."
"But do you think he will owe you a grudge for that, father?"
"I am sure of it, my boy. He never forgave me for buying the Gap, and
now I'm afraid this exposure of his smuggling tricks has made matters
ten times worse."
"Oh, I hope not, father," I said eagerly.
"So do I, my boy; but I have very little faith in him, and I always
dwell in expectation that some day or other, or some night or another,
he will land with a strong party, and come up here to work all the
mischief he can--perhaps carry off all our silver."
"But, father," I exclaimed, "that would be acting like a pirate."
"Well, Sep, there is not much difference between a pirate and a
smuggler. They are both outlaws, and not very particular about what
they do."
"Oh, but I hope we shall have no trouble of that sort, for Bigley's
sake."
"So do I, Sep, but I feel this, that we are not safe, for we have made a
dangerous enemy--one who can descend upon us at any time, and then get
away by sea. What can we do if he makes such an attack?"
"Fight," I said bluntly. "We have plenty of arms, and the men will do
just what they are bid."
"Yes," said my father; "but I should be deeply grieved for there to be
any bloodshed. I've known what it is in my early days, Sep, and in
spite of all that has been said about honour and glory there is always
an unpleasant feeling afterwards, when in cool blood you think about
having destroyed your fellow-creatures' lives."
"Yes, father," I said; "there must be, and we don't want to do it; but
if anyone comes breaking into the mine premises to steal, they must take
the consequences."
"Yes, Sep," said my father sternly, "they must, for I have enough of the
old fighting-man left in me to make me say that I should not give up
quietly if I was put to the proof."
I thought a good deal about my father's words, but though I regularly
made Bigley my confidant, and told him pretty well everything, I did not
tell him that, for I knew it would make him very uncomfortable, and
besides it seemed such a horrible idea for us to have to be fighting
against his father--our men against his.
The time went on, and we kept on hearing about the French war, but we
seemed to be, away there in our quiet Devon combe, far from all the
noise and turmoil, and very little of the news excited us.
We knew when there was a big fight, and when one side got the better of
the other; but to read the papers we always appeared to get the victory.
But, as I say, it did not seem to concern us much, only when the
country traffic was a bit disturbed, and our lead began to accumulate
for want of the means of sending it away.
"I don't so much mind the lead, Sep," my father used to say; "what I
mind is the silver."
This was when the store beneath the counting-house became charged with
too valuable a collection of ingots; and the second time this happened
my father suddenly altered his arrangements.
"I can't rest satisfied that all is safe," he said, "when I am away at
the Bay, and this place is only depending upon locks and keys."
"What shall you do then, father?" I asked. "Have a watchman!"
He nodded.
"Who? Old Sam?"
"No," he said; "ourselves, Sep, my lad. It will not be so comfortable,
but while the country is so disturbed we will come and live over here."
No time was lost, and in two days the upper rooms of the counting-house
and store had been filled with furniture, and Kicksey came over for the
day, and went back at night, after cooking and cleaning for us.
As my father said, it was not so comfortable as being at home, but we
were ready enough to adapt ourselves to circumstances; and any change
was agreeable in those days.
Bigley was delighted, for it robbed his rather lonely life of its
dulness, and he never for a moment realised why the change had been
made.
But though we were always on the spot, my father relaxed none of his old
preparations. Every other day there was an hour's drill or sword
practice. Sometimes an evening was taken for the use of the pistols;
and, by degrees, under my father's careful instructions, the little band
of about twelve men had grown into a substantial trustworthy guard of
sturdy fellows, any one of whom was ready to give a good account of
himself should he be put to the test.
At first my father had been averse to Bigley drilling with us, but he
raised no obstacle, for he said to me, "We can let him learn how to use
the weapons, Sep, but it does not follow that he need fight for us."
"And I'm sure he would not fight against us, father," I said laughing.
So Bigley grew to be as handy with the cutlass as any of the men, and no
mean shot with the pistol.
As for Bob Chowne, he came over and drilled sometimes, and he was
considered to be our surgeon--that is, by Bigley and me--but he was not
with us very often, for his father kept him at work studying medicine,
meaning him to be a doctor later on; but, as Bob expressed it, he was
always washing bottles or making pills, though as a fact neither of
these tasks ever came to his share.
Four months--five months--six months had gone by since the adventure
with the cutter, and Bigley had only had two or three letters sending
him money, and saying that his father was quite well, but there was not
a word of returning; and it struck me old Jonas must have had means of
knowing that his son was still in the old cottage, or he would not have
gone on sending money without having an answer back.
The rumours about the war seemed to affect us less than ever, and I was
growing so accustomed to my busy life that I thought little of my old
amusements, save when now and then I went out for an evening's fishing
with Bigley, the old boat having been brought over from Ripplemouth,
none the worse for its trip.
The mine went on growing more productive, and, in spite of the great
expenses, it seemed as if my father would become a wealthy man. Lead
was sent one way, silver another, and when the latter accumulated, as we
were on the spot, my father dismissed his anxiety, and we were gradually
becoming lulled into a feeling of repose, save when Bigley talked about
his father, and then once more a little feeling of doubt and insecurity
would slip in, as might have been the case in the olden times when the
people near shore learned that some Saxon or Danish ship was hovering
about the coast.