EXAMINATIONS--ADRIFT ON THE DEEP
Examinations were coming on apace. The end of the half was near. Prizes
had been established by gentlemen of the neighbourhood, and the diligent
ones were striving for them with assiduous application to study. The
sports of the students had little attraction for Ande now. Even had he
not been sent to Coventry, he would have avoided them for the extra
chance it gave him for work. He was determined to win the prize for
general scholarship in the fifth. There were others working for the same
goal, among them, Tenny, the former head. Tenny's ambition was of a
double nature. Not only must he win the general prize, but also the
silver medal for the best essay. The days sped rapidly by, and soon came
the day of examination. The essays had been handed in to a special
committee, some time previous, under various nom-de-plumes.
Most of the examinations were oral, and occupied some time. Generally,
the master would put the questions, but at times one of the visiting
gentlemen would throw in a question bearing on the special subject under
consideration.
The contest of general scholarship in the fifth was manifestly between
two students,--the old and the new head, and even after it was over,
none could prophesy how the judges would decide. The decision came,
after a brief pause and consultation.
The Reverend Mr. Trewan arose, and after clearing his throat several
times began by complimenting the students.
"I am pleased to find the excellent form in which most of our scholars
have passed this examination. The marks are far above the average of the
half. I am glad to state that the whole form will enter the sixth at the
next half without a single exception."
There was a little cheer from the mass of students.
"In reference to the prize for the general scholarship, there are two
between which there has been a close contest. For quite a time one was
in the forerank and the other close behind. Then the marks were even.
Then the second forged ahead. Master Tenny," and the head paused to
clear his throat, while Tenny flushed with gratification, "your marks
have been admirable; they were far ahead of your average during the
year. For quite a time you were ahead, then even with another, Master
Trembath, then Master Trembath gained first place. The prize goes to
him, however, who has the highest average of the whole examination, and
I, therefore, declare Master Trembath the winner by four points; and the
committee has given Master Tenny the highest honourable mention."
The master paused and extended twenty pounds to Ande, the prize for
general scholarship. Dick was the first to congratulate him, and was
followed by one or two others, notwithstanding the decree of Coventry.
Tenny maintained his silence in bitter chagrin. He had hopes of the
essay prize, however, the chairman of which committee now arose to
report.
"We find," he said, after a little preliminary speech, "that six of the
essays were most laudable, but out of them two were selected for their
excellence--one on account of the beauty of the language, the other on
account of its vivid realism and striking, rhetorical figures. The one
written by Hector is admirable in wording and has many fine points, but
lacks the realism and subject matter and thought of the other. We have
decided that the silver medal goes to him who has adopted the certainly
inappropriate and inapplicable nom-de-plume of Asinus Cornubiensus."
There was a pause, and the students at length, realising the meaning of
the Latin nom-de-plume, which was the "Ass, or Donkey of Cornwall,"
burst into a roar of laughter.
"Certainly," resumed the gentleman, "this Asinus Cornubiensus has
demonstrated a grasp of thought, power of language, and vivid
description that belies his humble name, and renders him worthy of the
prize. Stand up, Asinus Cornubiensus, and receive the silver medal."
Dick stood up, much confused, and received the prize. There was a cheer.
Even Ande was astonished, and greeted his old friend with more respect.
It is needless to say that Hector was Tenny, who was bubbling over with
rage and mortification, to think that he was not only beaten in the
general prize but also in the essay, and in the latter case by one whom
he had always considered a stupid dunce, the worst scholar in the form.
The rest of the day was dedicated to the examinations of the sixth and
the distribution of prizes in that form. Our two prize winners of the
fifth wended their way out from the school and hied away from the town
to one of their accustomed haunts, near the coast, high up on the
cliffs. Here, throwing themselves down on the long grass, they watched,
for the time, the active sea-birds and the flitting sails far out on the
channel. At length, turning from the contemplation of these, Ande
addressed his friend.
"Dick, what led you to choose such a queer nom-de-plume?" and he smiled.
"Well, I was always considered a dull'ead and never thinking I'd get the
medal, I put down the name in a little disgust, thinking it to be the
most appropriate one."
"What was the subject?"
"You can't guess?"
"No."
"Well, it was on that hurling game between Breage and our fellows, and I
just played the game over again in imagination when I was writing."
"That accounts for its realism, no doubt."
"Did 'ee notice Tenny after the general prize was given?"
"No."
"His face was as wisht[7] as a herring."
[7] Wisht--sickly.
"No doubt. I noticed him after the silver medal was given and he was
green around the eyes."
"Serves him right," said Dick, "for sending us to Coventry on account of
that tale of Creakle about your father and grandfather."
There was silence for a moment, unbroken save by the breaking of the
waves on the beach beneath.
"Dick, you asked me once out of curiosity concerning that tale and I am
now going to tell you and get your ideas. You have a better head than we
gave you credit for."
"Fudge, Ande, your head would make two of mine, but fire away. I've been
anxious for a long time to know."
Ande related the history of his family and the treasonable stain, while
his companion listened attentively, and sympathetically. The tale was
related to the finish.
"And the papers?"
"They were all confiscated except two, that are now in my possession."
"And your father?"
"He left a letter. You see the last letter that my mother received
before father's disappearance contained one sealed, directed to me,
which should be given to me when I came to mature years. It was given me
when I came first to the Grammar School. Here it is," said Ande, as he
pulled out of his inside pocket a long envelope that had been sealed
with red wax.
"I have long since made myself familiar with its contents, but I am now
going to read it to you," and opening it he read the following:
"FORT MALDEN, Canada, Sept. 10th, 1813."
"MY DEAR SON ANDREW.--This letter is enclosed and sent in one to
your mother, and is to be given to you when you are old enough to
understand its contents. Whether I shall accomplish that for which I
started to this blood-stained region or not yet remains to be seen.
If not, and I should fall either in battle or a captive, you must
faithfully carry out my request. Proctor has let hell loose upon the
Americans and it has come back upon our own heads. I have no taste
for this fighting side by side with savage Indians, and certainly
Proctor is abusing his authority and position. He ruthlessly permits
the savages to perform the most fiendish things imaginable, and has
no respect for his word to a fallen foe.
"All Michigan was taken by his predecessor, General Brock, but he
was unfortunately killed and now this unscrupulous man is over us.
It makes me blush at the name Englishmen must bear through him, and
disgusts me with the present service. At the battle of Frenchtown,
last January, the American general, Winchester, and his men were
captured. They surrendered on Proctor's word that their lives and
property should be safe, but Proctor returned to Malden and left the
wounded and prisoners to be scalped and burned alive by the
blood-thirsty devils, our red allies, who even dragged some through
the streets of Detroit for sale. Detroit people remonstrated with
Proctor, but he only shrugged his shoulders.
"The same proceedings were repeated after the attack on Harrison at
Fort Meigs. The battle was as good as a victory for us. Our men were
on both sides of the river Maumee. Our left was repulsed with a
small loss, but our right was victorious, taking prisoners nearly
six hundred men. Then the same savage atrocities began. Even
Tecumseh, the great chief, was more merciful than our general. With
an appalling yell he rescued an American prisoner from two of his
followers and then insulted Proctor to his face.
"'Why do you allow such things when I am not here?' he said.
"'Your Indians can't be controlled,' said Proctor.
"'Go, put on petticoats; you are not fit to command men,' said
Tecumseh, and with that he stalked proudly away. But those who heard
it agreed with the bold chief. He's a good soldier, but no general,
and his cruelty and indifference to his word of honour has made the
soldiers sick of such service. On account of this, and Admiral
Barclay's defeat to-day, Michigan is lost to us and even Canada may
be taken away from the home government. The splendid opportunities
that Brock placed in our hands are of no value on account of
incapable Proctor and pusillanimous Barclay. The naval battle was
won before it was fought. Barclay had six vessels and Perry nine,
but what of that? Englishmen have conquered before against odds. But
there was Barclay, keeping under the guns of Malden, casting down
the spirits of his men with the thought of certain defeat, while the
American ships were out in the open inviting him to the attack. The
sailors and gunners begged him to attack, and even wept in
humiliation at his cowardice. Tecumseh, with several thousand
Indians, were on an island waiting to witness the encounter.
Tecumseh rowed over and sought Proctor.
"'You said you were master of the waters. Why don't you go out and
fight? The Americans are daring you to come out and fight.'
"The result of that battle is known, or will be known soon. Oh, for
men like Nelson, and Marlborough, and Wellington!
"But to the point of my request. My father has a dishonourable stain
on his name, though unworthy of it, I believe. I have travelled
among the Shawnese, our allies, who were father's foes at Braddock's
defeat. I was sent by Brock as an agent to the Ohio, and witnessed
their dances and the Prophet's agitation a year ago. Ah, they were
blood-curdling scenes. While there I talked with an old Shawnee
about King Shingas and Captain Jacobs, father's captors. He said he
was a sub-chief under Shingas and was in the ambush at the defeat,
and from what I could glean from his description, father was among
the batch of prisoners consigned to his charge. He knew not what I
had in mind at first. He was so old that his hair had turned white
or grey, an unusual thing among the Indians. He spoke to me of the
greatness of Shingas and the suffering of the prisoners until I felt
like shooting him on the spot, the hoary old sinner. All were not
burned, for after running the gauntlet one escaped, snatching a club
from an Indian in his flight. The Shawnee called him the Long Red
Wolf, at least such is the meaning of the Shawnee name in English.
From the red hair, length of limb, and swiftness of foot, it must
have been my father, who was accounted the swiftest foot in old
Cornwall when young.
"Now hark ye, son Andrew, among the papers of your grandfather,
found on his person, was one overlooked by the King's officers. It
was a rude map of the Kittanning region and the rough vale of the
Lycamahoning. I send a copy with the same directions in Shawnese and
English. The vale leads down from the Allegheny Mountains, and the
river empties into the Ohio some distance above the old Indian town
of Kittanning, as you can readily see from the accompanying sketch.
I have learned from long association with the Indians that this
region is rich in silver and lead, possibly gold. At least there are
legends to that effect. The ability of the natives to obtain lead
for their weapons and their silver ornaments testify to an eldorado
somewhere in the region. Now father was much interested in mining
and metals, as what Cornishman is not. I asked the old warrior of
Shingas concerning the Indian legend of this eldorado and quoted the
old directions in Shawnese, for I speak their language: 'On one side
a plain, on the other a steep that a smart Indian can climb.' He
gazed at my red hair and became silently suspicious. A bullet that
passed through my hat on my way back to Malden told me my knowledge
had made me a mark of vengeance.
"This is all I know. Connect this Indian eldorado with the map found
on father's body; explain how the French commission as captain was
filled in with his own name, and how he happened to be in French
uniform, and the problem is solved. If these could be explained I
believe our family could raise its head once more among the loyal
families of the delectable duchy,--Cornwall. I'll find this Indian
eldorado and your grandfather's exoneration at the same time. They
are both connected, I believe. If I fail you must take up the
cause."
"Your affectionate father,
"THOMAS TREMBATH,
"_Major---- 6th Royal Infantry._
"FORT MALDEN, Canada."
"That's what we were studying about the other day," said Dick, as Ande
ceased reading. "De 'ee remember, Ande, about Proctor and Tecumseh?"
"Aye," said Ande, musingly.
"Are you going to take up the search?"
"Some time,--when, I don't know. What do you advise?"
"I should say after you get through with the sixth," said Dick promptly;
"but, Ande, you haven't told me of Sir James Lanyan and Master Richard
and----"
Ande gave a gesture of impatience and his countenance clouded over with
anger.
"Dick," he said passionately, "parson says it's wrong, but I hate that
family and I can never forgive them the wrong they did me and mine. When
the time comes I will be terribly revenged upon them for the cruel
slander and injustice that they, for the sake of capital, brought upon
us."
Dick was silenced; he had never seen the pleasant face of his friend
become so angry. A look like that of a demon had passed over his
features at the very mentioning of Lanyan's name.
"Hist!" said Ande, and his countenance resumed its old expression.
Both youths listened, in their sequestered position.
"Remember, Penner, to 'ave the men 'ere within a half an 'our. See that
each is well armed with pistols and cutlass. The cutter 'as been
notified and is a-beating down the coast, and the paths be all guarded.
This time we'll catch the hold Prussian fox or my name beant Penhall."
Gazing out cautiously, the youths saw, on the beach below, two men in
seaman's garb.
"That's Captain Penhall of the coastguard, and his lieutenant, and they
mean to surprise the King of Prussia Cove. We must give our old friend
warning, Dick, lad."
"Les up and away."
"Hold on. Didn't 'ee hear the paths are all guarded."
"That's so," said Dick rubbing his head, doubtfully.
"Come, I have a plan at last," said Ande after a moment's thought, and
he led the way cautiously at first and then rapidly inland. For a mile
or more they kept up a smart pace, Dick following with some difficulty.
After a wide detour inland, they rapidly approached Prussia Cove. His
plan was nothing less than to enter the cove by the perilous path from
which he had fallen in the hurling game between Breage and the school.
It was now twilight, and darkness was rapidly setting in.
"Halt!" said a quick, sharp voice ahead.
"On," whispered Ande, "there's only two of them. I'll take the right,
and you take the left."
Dick grappled with his man and there was a moment of struggle. But the
sudden impetus of Dick's rush decided the battle, for the coastguard
tripped and, aided by his antagonist's bulk, fell. Ande was more
fortunate, not suffering the other to lay hands on him. With a blow of
his fist and a quick Cornish side kick he toppled him over.
"On!" shouted Ande and down the narrow pathway they rushed at breakneck
speed. There was now no concealment. Shots flew after the two and Ande
felt a sharp, quick pain in the left arm, but he gave it no attention.
In a moment or two they emerged on the sands below, and their arrival
was none too soon. The smugglers had already secreted half the cargo.
"The coastguard! They're coming!" shouted Ande as he rushed among the
crowd.
Down the path was heard the approach of charging feet. From other paths
the same ominous sounds were heard, all converging on the cove, and soon
the head of the cove was dotted with black figures of guardsmen.
Now did Captain Carter show his courage. His men grasped desperately
their pikes and cutlasses, and not even awaiting the attack of the
guard, charged at the command of their king. Then followed a sanguinary
battle. Shots, oaths, dull resounding blows, and groans made the silent
cove a veritable pandemonium. In the midst of it a sail was seen
gradually nearing the harbour entrance. The quick eye of Carter saw it.
Flourishing his cutlass on high he roared:
"To the lugger, men, the hawk's at the entrance!"
The two youths, not knowing where to go, clambered on board, followed
speedily by the captain and his men. The struggle continued to the very
lugger's bulwarks, for the attacking guard were more numerous than their
foes and felt loathe to leave them go. The appearance of the revenue
cutter near the entrance also gave them renewed courage. They strove to
follow after the captain and his men. A select guard of the smugglers
was speedily appointed by the captain to repel boarders, and these did
their work well, wielding boathooks and cutlasses with telling effect.
In the meantime sweeps were gotten ready by the others and the lugger
was under headway, slowly leaving the frenzied guardsmen of the
government on shore.
A gun sounded from the entrance and a ball tore through the limp
mainsail.
"Between two fires," muttered the captain with a smothered oath, and it
was true, for the revenue cutter had stationed herself midway in the
narrow entrance.
"Pull, my hearties, pull," shouted the captain, "we'll run 'er down, for
we be heavier!"
The lusty fellows at the sweeps did pull, and with a will. The cutter's
captain, seeing the intention of the smugglers, tried to frustrate it,
and partly succeeded, but--crash!--the next instant the lugger's heavy
prow ran athwart the cutter's bow.
"She's done for," gleefully said the smuggler captain, as the next
moment the lugger glided into the bay. But Carter was mistaken, for the
cutter though badly damaged, was not disabled. The blow was above the
water-line and pursuit was kept up out into the channel. There was a
light breeze blowing, the sails were set, and the sweeps were taken in.
The cutter was steadily gaining.
"Can she catch us?" asked Ande of the smuggler captain.
"No," said the captain, pleasantly, "I think not. We are obliged to 'ee,
lads, for your timely warning."
Ande wondered at his good humour and at his denial that there was any
danger of being overtaken, when it was plain that the cutter was
gaining. Evidently the captain had some plan, he thought; and he had.
"Port your helm!" shouted the skipper, and then at another command, more
sheets were spread to the wind as if by magic, and away went the lugger
staggering under a cloud of canvas, like a winged bird of the sea.
"Jack," said the captain to our old acquaintance of the cliff battle,
"Jack, do 'ee think 'ee could wing that chap?"
"I'll try," said Jack, and away he rushed to the stern where a long
brass cannon called "Long Tom" was stationed. The gunner sighted for an
instant, then changed the sights and sighted again; then as if
satisfied, he quickly applied the lighted linstock. There was a flash
and a roar and the ball sped on its mission.
"A good shot, Master Jack, you've brought down 'er mainmast," said the
skipper, who was examining the effects with a night glass.
He had hardly spoken when there was a puff of smoke from the cutter,
then crash! the sound of rending plank, and a ball passed straight
through the lugger at the water line. The next instant there was another
puff of smoke and another ball crashed through close to the second. The
cutter was avenged.
Captain Carter, with a pale set face, hastened below to ascertain the
injuries, but returned in a moment. The lugger was rapidly filling and
settling.
"Jack and I will give them a shot to pay for that while the rest of ye
get ready the long boat," said the captain, sternly. But it was a fatal
delay, for scarcely had Long Tom been sighted e'er in a mad swirl of
waters the lugger plunged to her watery grave--down, down, down,
dragging, in her deadly, downgoing eddy, captain and crew. Ande had the
sound of many waters in his ears, and kicked desperately to free himself
of its deadly influence. Then, after an interminable time, to his joy he
felt himself going upward, upward and upward. His lungs felt like
bursting under the terrible strain. Could he hold out until he reached
the surface? He made another desperate downward kick and joy,--his head
shot above the surface--but--nothing visible but the dark, tossing
waters and the pale stars o'erhead. Stay! There was a dark mass but a
yard or so away and a form. He drifted nearer. He shouted and a hand
grasped him and drew him up on a floating piece of deck timber.
"Dick."
"Ande."
Two simultaneous shouts, but that was all, as these two friends of
school day life floated together on the loosened spar.
Then after a time:
"Didst see the captain or any of the crew?"
"All drowned, no doubt," said Dick.
Then there was more silence. Dick was a famous swimmer, but clung to the
spar reserving his strength for the future; Ande was less expert in the
swimming art and his wound and exposure was gradually weakening his
grasp. It was now past midnight.
"Dick, do'ee think the cutter will pick us up?"
"Hardly; you see, she can't do much with her mainmast gone, and then the
tide is ebbing."
Hours passed and the sickening sense of weakness became stronger and
stronger, and that weary, pallid expression, the presage of
unconsciousness, swept o'er Ande's countenance and remained there. It
was Dick who realised it first, and he flung his own great arms o'er
those of Ande, binding him to the spar with his own strength.
"Hold on. Don't give in."
"Dick, I was shot in the arm coming down the cliff, and I think that's
what's making me weak."
"Weather it out until daylight and we shall be picked up. Some one is
bound to see us."
"Dick, do 'ee think we did right in warning the smugglers?" asked Ande,
weakly.
"Aye," said Dick, stoutly; "they were honest men trying to earn a
living."
"Because,--you see--you'll get through all right, but I--I'm getting
weaker every minute, and I can't hold out much longer--and a fellow
thinks of these things when he hasn't long to live."
"Nonsense, we'll both pull through all right. Pluck up courage." Then as
he noticed a piece of rope attached to the spar, "I do believe I'm still
a dull'ead. Here we 'ave been floating in danger of falling off through
weakness every moment and there is the means of our salvation."
He plucked out a knife from his pocket and severed the rope at the end
from the spar and passing it around Ande and himself securely lashed
themselves to the float.
"There, if we can't hold out much longer, we'll at least be on top of
the water as long as this spar floats."
There was silence for another half an hour and then Ande said wearily.
"Dick, if you get back to land--and I don't,--you--remember me to mother
and tell her I--died a Christian."
"Aye, aye, old fellow, but cheer up!" But the tears in his own eyes
indicated that he needed his own advice.
"We must trust in God, Dick."
"Aye," said the other, as he reached over and shook hands earnestly.
"And Dick, remember me to her."
"Aye," said Dick once more. He knew for quite a time Ande's interest in
the squire's daughter, and that "her" could mean no one else.
On they drifted, now on a swelling surge, then in a dark valley of
water. Dawning light appeared in the east, but no land was visible.
"Cheer up," said Dick, "day is coming," but there was no answer. Grim
unconsciousness had come at last. Dick, for another hour, battled with
the terrible faintness, then the sea seemed to fade from his vision
and--the sun arose beaming brilliantly on the world of tossing waters.
Nothing was visible but the circling gulls and a stick of timber, and
two unconscious, half-drowned lads.