"Hole in her bottom?" said the friendly fisherman who had presented the
brill, in answer to Aleck's application, "and want her brought ashore?
Sewerly, my lad, sewerly."
His application to the big fisherman who had taken his part over the
fight met with a precisely similar reply, when the lad found the men
collected with a number of their fellows outside one of the
public-houses, where something mysterious in the way of a discussion was
going on, and Aleck noted that their conversation ceased as soon as he
appeared, several of the men nudging each other and indulging in sundry
nods and winks.
But the lad was too full of his boat trouble to dwell upon the business
that seemed to have attracted the men together, and he led the way down
to the harbour with his two fishermen acquaintances, finding that all
the rest of the party followed them.
Had he wanted fifty helpers instead of three he could have had willing
aid at once. As it was, his friends selected four more to help put off
their boats, and the rest trudged slowly down the pier to form an
audience and look on, while under Tom Bodger's direction the damaged
boat was lashed by its thwarts to the fresh corners, and then set free
and thrust off the step.
The rest was easy. In a very short time she was rowed ashore, cast
loose again, and half a dozen men waded in knee-deep to run her up a few
feet at a time, the water escaping through the broken-out hole, till at
last she was high and--not dry, but free from water.
Then the mast was unstepped and with the other fittings laid aside,
while Tom Bodger had procured a basket of tools and the wood necessary
for the repairs, and the little crowd of fishermen formed themselves
into a smoking party, sitting upon upturned boats, fish boxes and
buckets, to discuss the damage and compare it with that sustained by
other boats as far back as they could remember. For Tom required no
further help then, save such as was given by Aleck, preferring to work
his own way, the idea being to make a temporary patchwork sufficient for
safety in getting the boat home.
To this end he measured and cut off, almost as skilfully as a ship's
carpenter--consequent upon old experience at home with boats and at sea
with the mechanic of a man-o'-war--a piece of board to form a fresh
thwart, which was soon nailed tightly on the remains of the old.
Then the hole in the bottom was covered with this boarding, laid
crosswise, the necessary fitting taking a great deal of time, so that
the afternoon was spent before help was needed, and plenty of willing
hands assisted in turning the boat right over, keel uppermost, ready for
the laying on of plenty of well-tarred oakum to cover the fresh inside
lining, Tom having a kettle of pitch over a wood fire, and paying his
work and the caulking liberally as he went on, whistling and chatting
away to Aleck the while, only pausing now and then to have a big sniff
and to inhale much of the smoke cloud his friends were making.
"I should like to stop and have a pipe mysen, Master Aleck," said Tom,
once.
"Well, have one; only don't be long, Tom."
"Nay, sir; I'll have it as we sails over, bime by. I won't stop now.
It's a long job, and it'll be quite dark afore I've done."
He fetched the pitch kettle from the little fire a fisherman had been
feeding with chips of wreck-wood and adze cuttings from a lugger on the
stacks.
"Now then," he said, after carefully stuffing the damaged hole with
oakum, "this ought to keep the inside dry, on'y the worst on it is that
the pitch won't stick well to where the wood's wet."
"But you're not going to pour all that in?"
"I just am," said Tom, with a chuckle. "I arn't going to spyle a ship
for the sake of a ha'porth o' tar. There we are," he continued,
spreading the melted pitch all over the patch with a thin piece of wood
till, as it cooled, it formed a fairly level surface ready for the
pieces of planking intended to form the outside skin.
Tom was a very slow worker, but very sure, and a couple more hours
glided by and the sun had long set with the boat still not finished. So
slow had the repairing been that at last Aleck expressed his
dissatisfaction; but Tom only grinned.
"I know what water is, sir, and how it'll get through holes. I don't
want for us to go to the bottom, no more'n I want us both to be allus
baling. Didn't I say as it would take me till dark?"
"You did, Tom, but you needn't drive in quite so many nails. This is
only temporary work."
"Tempry or not tempry, I want it to last till we gets home."
"Of course," said Aleck, and to calm his impatience he turned to look at
the group of fishermen, who sat and stood about, smoking away, and for
the first time the lad noticed that the men had ceased to watch Tom
Bodger but had their eyes fixed intently upon the sloop-of-war and the
cutter, which lay at anchor a couple of miles from the harbour, and were
now showing their riding lights.
"'Bout done, arn't yer, Tommy?" said the man who was mending the fire.
"Nay, keep the pitch hot, messmet," said Tom. "I'll just pay her over
inside as soon as we've got her turned right again."
"Then that's going to be now, arn't it, matey?" said the big fisherman.
"Yes," said Tom, to Aleck's great satisfaction. "Lend a hand, some on
yer."
The words seemed to galvanise the group into action, twice as many men
offering to help as were needed, and in another few minutes, to the
owner's delight, the boat was turned over, with the iron-plated keel
settling down in the fine shingle and the rough inner workmanship
showing in the dim twilight.
"Now," cried Tom, "just that drop o' pitch. Power it in, messmet.
That's your sort. It'll soon cool. Now, then, I'll just stick a bit or
two of board acrorst there, Master Aleck, to protect that pitch; and
then we'll say done."
"And time it was done, Tom," said Aleck, impatiently. "Look, you've
tired everybody out!"
Tom looked round, and laughed softly.
"Yes," he said, as he noted how to a man the fisher folk had begun to
saunter away. "I see. They've been all on the fidget to go for the
last half-hour."
"And no wonder; but they might have waited a bit longer, to launch her."
"She arn't ready to launch yet, my lad, and she'll be all the better for
waiting till that pitch is well cooled. Besides, in less than an hour
the tide'll be up all round her, and we can shove her off oursens."
"Oh, yes, of course; and as we have to go in the dark I suppose it
doesn't matter to an hour."
"That's what I've been a-thinking of, Master Aleck. But, I say, do you
know why they wanted to be off?"
"Hungry, I suppose."
"Nay! Not them. They're suspicious."
"What of?"
"Why, didn't you see how they kep' one eye on the man-o'-war out
yonder?"
"Yes, of course."
"Well, what does that mean? They've made up their minds as boats'll
come in from the sloop arter dark just to see in a friendly way if they
can't pick up a few likely lads to sarve the King."
"From the smugglers who are hanging about?" said Aleck, eagerly, as he
recalled what had passed between him and Eben Megg that afternoon.
"Smugglers, or fishermen, or anyone else. All's fish that comes into a
press-gang's net--'cept us, Master Aleck. They wouldn't take a young
gent like you, and I should be no good to 'em now, sir," continued the
poor fellow, with a ring of sadness in his voice, which gave place to a
chuckle as he added, "unless they kep' me aboard the man-o'-war to poke
my pins down the scupper holes to keep 'em from being choked. These
here two bits o' thin board I'll nail in close together, and then we'll
let the water come up all round and harden the pitch. Just you rake
them ashes together, Master Aleck, so as not to let the fire go quite
out. I shan't be above half an hour now, and then I shall want a light
for my pipe, and by the time I've done that you'll be back again."
"Back again? I'm not going away."
"Oh, yes, you are, Master Aleck; you're going up to the little shop
yonder to get a noo crusty loaf and a quarter of a pound o' cheese."
"Oh, I can't eat now, Tom," said the lad, impatiently.
"Can't yer, sir?" said Tom, with a grin. "Well, I can--like fun--and if
you'll buy what I says I'll teach you how."
"Oh, of course, Tom. How thoughtless of me! I've been so anxious; but,
of course, you must be very hungry! I'll go and get some bread and
cheese. And you'd like a mug of beer, wouldn't you?"
"Well, Master Aleck, I wouldn't say no to a drop if it was here."
"I'll go at once, Tom, without you want me to hold the boards while you
nail them."
"All right, sir. Nay, nay, don't make a blaze. Just rake the ashes
together; any little ember will do to light my pipe. I say, Master
Aleck, we haven't had a single boy nigh us."
"No, not one. How strange!"
"Not it, sir. Just shows as they all know about the boat, and whose
game it was."
Aleck hurried off and obtained the simple provisions needed, and
returned to find the last nails being driven triumphantly into the boat.
"There you are, Master Aleck," cried Tom, "and I warrant she won't leak
a spoonful. There's the tide just beginning to lap up round the stern,
so we'll get the rudder on again, step the mast, and put all ship-shape
ready for a start, and if it's all the same to you I'll just light up my
pipe at once, and smoke it as we get the tackle back in its place."
"Go on, then," said Aleck, and, after filling the bowl of his pipe, the
sailor went to the glowing embers of the fire, one of which he picked up
with his hardened thumb and finger, lit the tobacco, and began smoking
away.
His first act was to scoop up a little water in the boat's baler and
extinguish the fire.
"Too hot as it is, Master Aleck. We can feel the way to our mouths, and
I'm allus mortal feared of sparks blowing about among boats and sheds."
The shipping of the rudder, the stepping of the mast, and fastening of
the boat's grapnel to the ring-bolt followed. Then oars, boat-hook, and
ropes were laid in, and the pair seated themselves in the darkness, to
begin discussing their much-needed meal, listening the while to the
whispering and lapping of the water, Aleck thinking anxiously of how
uneasy his uncle would be.
"How soon shall we be able to start, Tom?" he said.
There was a strange sound which made Aleck start.
"What?" he cried. "What's the matter?"
"Beg pardon, Master Aleck; couldn't say it no better. Mouth was full o'
hard crust."
"How long before we start?"
"Good hour, sir. There's a lot o' shallow yonder."
"Oh!" cried Aleck, impatiently. "Let's get some of the fishermen to
come and launch us."
"I don't think you'd find anyone as would come, sir. They're all lying
low somewhere for fear o' the press-gang."
"Nonsense! Here they come, a lot of them, to get us off."
"Why, so they be," grumbled Tom, in a disappointed way. "Can't see no
faces, but--Master Aleck," he whispered, sharply, "it's them!"
"Well, I said so," began Aleck, impatiently; but he got no farther, the
words being checked by a feeling of astonishment. For a voice suddenly
exclaimed:
"Quick, lads; surround!" and a hand was laid sharply upon the lad's
collar, while two men grappled Tom.
"Now, then," he growled, "what is it?"
"Hold your noise, or you'll have a fist in your mouth," said a sharp
voice. "Who are you?"
"Name Bodger. AB, King's Navee. Pensioner for wounds. See?"
It was dark, but the shooting out of Tom's wooden legs at right angles
to his body from where he sat was plain enough to all of the group of
well-armed sailors who surrounded the boat.
"What are you doing here?"
"Eating my supper; been mending our boat."
"Then who is this?" said the same sharp voice.
"My young master. We got a hole in the boat's bottom and had to put in
for repairs."
"That's right enough, sir; here's the oakum and tools. Been a fire.
Here's the little pitch kettle."
"O' course it's right, messmets. What's yer game--press-gang?"
"Hush!" whispered the commanding voice. "You're an old sailor?"
"Nay, not old, your honour," said Tom. "Thirty-two, all but the legs I
lost. They warn't so old by some years."
"A joker, eh? Well, look here, my lad. We're on duty, and it's yours
as an ex-Navy man to help. Where are the fishermen? There seem to be
none hanging about the cliff."
"I d'know, your honour; up at the publics, p'raps, in the town."
"There's a party of smugglers here to-night?"
"Is there, sir? Running a cargo?"
"You know they are."
"That I don't, your honour. I haven't seen one."
Just at that moment there was the sound of yelling, and a couple of
shots were fired. Then more shouts arose, and a shrill whistle was
heard.
"Answer that, bo'sun," cried the officer in command of the party, and a
shrill chirping sound seemed to cut the night air. "Now, my lads,
forward!"
"One minute," cried Aleck. "We want to get afloat. Tell your men to
give my boat a shove off."
"Hang your boat!" cried the officer, angrily. "Keep together, my lads.
Yes, all right; we're coming."
The party went off after their leader at a run, for another sharp
whistle rang out at a distance.
"Well, he might have been civil," said Aleck.
"Haw! haw! haw! Fancy your asking a luff-tenant on duty that, Master
Aleck!" said Tom, laughing, and talking with his mouth full, for he had
recommenced his unfinished meal.
"It wouldn't have hurt him," said Aleck. "Here, leave off eating, Tom,
and let's get away from here. I don't want to be mixed up with this
horrid business."
"'Tis horrid, sir, to you, but I got used to it," said the man, rolling
off the side to begin swaying the boat, Aleck leaping out on the other
side.
"No good, sir. She's fast for another half-hour. Tide rises very
slowly round here."
"Then we shall have to stop here and listen. Hark, that's glass
breaking. People struggling too. I say, Tom, try again; push hard."
"Hard as you tells me, sir; but it's no good--her deep keel's right down
in this here fine shingle. We must wait till the tide lifts her."
The sailor stopped short to listen, for the noise which came to them on
the still night air increased. Hoarse voices ringing out defiance,
savage yells and curses, mingled with the shrieks and appeals of angry
women, smote upon the listeners' ears, and Aleck stamped one foot with
impatient rage.
"Oh, Tom," he cried, "I can't bear it. I never heard anything of this
kind before."
"And don't want to hear it again, sir, o' course. Well, it arn't nice.
I didn't like it till I got used to it, and then I didn't seem to mind."
"How brutal!" said Aleck, angrily. "Hark at that!"
"I hear, sir. That's some o' the fishermen's wives letting go."
"Yes; and you speak in that cool way. Aren't you sorry for them?"
"Nay, sir; not me. I'm sorry for the poor sailor boys."
"What!" cried Aleck, angrily. "Tom, I didn't think you could be so
brutal."
"You don't understand, sir. That's the women shouting and screaming as
they give it to the press-gang. It's the sailors gets hits and
scratches and called all sorts o' names, and they're 'bliged to take it
all. But, my word, there's getting to be a shindy to-night and no
mistake. Let's try again to get the boat off!"
They tried; but she was immovable, save that they could rock her from
side to side.
"We'll do it in another ten minutes, Master Aleck, and then we'd better
row till we're outside the harbour. Hark at 'em now! That's not the
women now; that's the men. I say, I b'lieve there's a good dozen o' the
smuggling lot about the town, Master Aleck, but I hadn't seen one. Did
you catch sight o' any on 'em?"
"I saw Eben Megg," said the lad.
"And he's about the worst on 'em, Master Aleck. Well, it strikes me his
games are up for a bit. He's a wunner to fight, and he'll stick to his
mates; but they won't beat the press-gang off, for when they want men
and it comes to a fight it's the sailors who win. Well, it'd do young
Megg good. He's too much of a bully and rough 'un for me. Fine-looking
chap, but thinks too much of hisself. Make a noo man of him to be
aboard a man-o'-war for a few years."
"Pst, Tom! Listen! They're fighting up at the back there."
"And no mistake, my lad."
For fresh shouts, orders, and another whistle rang out, followed by what
was evidently a fierce struggle, accompanied by blows, the sounds as
they came out of the darkness being singularly weird and strange.
"Let's get away, Tom," said Aleck, huskily; "it's horrible to listen to
it."
"Yes, sir. Heave away, both together. Now, then, she moves. No, she's
as fast as ever."
"Oh!" groaned Aleck, striking both hands down with a loud smack upon the
boat's gunwale and then stopping short as if paralysed, for there were
quick steps, then a rush, evidently up the nearest narrow way among the
sheds.
Then all was silence, and a sharp voice cried:
"Halt there! Surrender, or I fire."
A rush followed the command, and then a pistol shot rang out, Aleck
seeing the flash; but the shot did not stop the man who received the
command. As far as Aleck in his excitement could make out he rushed at
and closed with him who tried to stop him, when a desperate struggle
ensued as of two men wrestling upon the cobble stones, their hoarse
panting coming strangely to the listeners' ears.
All thought of launching the boat was swept away by the excitement of
listening to the struggle, which grew more painful as the voice that had
uttered the command rose again in half-stifled tones:
"This way, lads; help!"
A dull thud followed, as of a heavy blow being delivered, followed by a
fall and the rush of footsteps again, but this time over the loose
shingle, and the next minute a dimly-seen figure approached, running
straight for the water.
But instead of the man running into the harbour, he turned sharp to his
left on catching sight of the boat and staggered up to it.
"Who's that?" he said, hoarsely. "You, Tom Bodger--Master Aleck? Here,
quick, sir; for the love of heaven save a poor fellow! It's the
press-gang. Got five on us. Help, sir! Shove off with me. I'm too
dead beat to swim."
"I can't help you, Eben. I dare not," cried Aleck. "What could I do?"
"Oh! but, Master Aleck--hark! there's more coming!"
"I tell you I can't. I dare not. They're the King's men, and--"
"Where are you, your honour?" came out of the darkness, to be answered
by a groan and a feeble attempt at a whistle.
"This way, lads," rang out, and there was the rush of feet and a deeper
groan.
"Eben, you've killed the officer," whispered Aleck, in his horror.
"I was on'y fighting for my liberty, master," whispered the man,
hoarsely. "Master Aleck, you don't like me, I know. I'm a bad 'un, I
s'pose; but there's my young wife and the little weans yonder waiting
for me, and when they know--"
The great rough fellow could say no more, but choked.
"Run for it, then," said Aleck; "wrong or right, we'll try and cover
you."
"It's no good, sir," whispered the man; "there's no end of 'em
surrounding us, and I'm as weak now as a rat."
He caught Aleck's hand, as the lad thought, to cling to it imploringly,
but the next moment he held it to his forehead, and it was snatched away
in horror, for the man had evidently been cut down and was bleeding
profusely.
"He's wounded badly, Tom," whispered Aleck, excitedly. "We must help
him now."
"Ay, ay, sir," said Tom, gruffly.
"Ah, the boat! The boat!" panted the smuggler.
"In with you then," said Aleck.
"Nay, nay," whispered Tom. "She arn't afloat, Eben Megg. Here, lay yer
weight on to her if yer can't shove."
"Hi! hallo there!" cried a voice from the direction where the struggle
had taken place.
In response there was the sound of the boat's keel grating on the
water-covered shingle, and the smuggler pressed close up to Aleck's
side.
"Do you hear there?" came from the same quarter. "In the King's name,
stand!"
"Lay yer backs into it," grunted Tom. "Shove, my lads, shove!"
"Come on, my lads! We must have them, whoever they are," came from
apparently close at hand.
"Ah, look sharp! There's a boat."
"Now for it," whispered Tom, and as he grunted hard the boat began to
glide from shingle and water into water alone, while as Aleck thrust
with all his might, knee-deep now, he felt the boat give way, and then
it seemed to him that the smuggler sank down beside him, making a feeble
clutch at his clothes and uttering a low groan.
Aleck's left hand acted as it were upon its own responsibility, closing
in the darkness upon Eben's shirt and holding fast, while the lad's
right hand held up the boat's gunwale.
The next moment he felt himself drawn off his feet and being dragged
through the water, in which the boat was jerking and dancing as if to
shake itself free.
It was too dark to see, but this is what was taking place. As the party
of three were trying their best to get the little yawl afloat the
shingle clung fast to its keel and very little progress was made,
although Tom Bodger thrust and jerked at it with all his might, more
like a dwarf than ever, for his wooden legs went down in the wet shingle
at every movement, right to the socket stumps; but at last, when their
efforts began to appear to be in vain, a little soft swell rolled in,
just as a rush was being made by the press-gang, the boat lifted astern,
and as the water passed under it, literally leaped up forward, shaking
itself free of the clinging sand and stones, and, yielding to the three
launchers, glided right away.
It was none too soon. Aleck was holding on upon one side nearly
amidships, while Tom on the other side let the gunwale glide through his
hands till they were close to the bow, and then holding on fast with
both hands he made one of his jumps or hops, to add impetus to the
boat's way and get his breast over the bow and scramble in.
His bound--if it could be so-called--was very successful, for the next
moment he was balanced upon his chest across the gunwale, gripping at
the edge of the fore-locker, with his legs sticking out behind, and
exulting over the sensation of the boat dancing under him, when he felt
himself seized by one of the press-gang party, who had dashed in after
the boat and made a grab at the first thing that offered in the dark.
The sailor was unlucky in his hold, but no wonder, for the darkness gave
him no opportunity of making any choice, and as it happened he gripped
one of Tom's pegs with his right and followed it up by clapping his left
hand alongside, trying hard to drag his prisoner out or to stop the
boat.
As aforesaid he was unlucky, for he was to suffer an entirely new
experience. Had he grasped an ordinary human leg in the black darkness
he would only have had a jerking kick or two, and most probably he would
have held on, but here it was something very different.
"Got 'em!" he cried, loudly. "Come on!" and then he was smitten with a
strange surprise, and also with something else.
For Tom Bodger, as he lay balanced upon the lower part of his chest,
half in and half out of the boat, had got his fingers well under the
side of the locker and was holding on with all the strength of his horny
fingers.
"Ah, would yer!" he roared, as he felt himself seized, and, unable to
kick for want of yielding joints, he began to work his stumps, to his
holder's horror, like a pair of gigantic shears gone mad. The one that
was free struck the sailor a sounding rap on the ear and made him
release his hold of the prisoned piece of timber for the moment, and
when he splashed after the boat, after recovering from his surprise, and
made another grab, the second free peg caught him on the arm like a blow
from a constable's truncheon. The sailor uttered a yell for help, but
it was cut short by a blow on each side of his neck as Tom's legs
snapped together, and then he fell forward with a splash and was helped
out by a couple of his mates, who stood, waist-deep, gazing into the
darkness after the boat.
"Where are yer, my lads?" panted Tom, as he progressed over the side
like a huge toad.
"Help! Help!" came from his right, and with the boat rocking from side
to side he felt about along the gunwale till his hand came in contact
with Aleck's fingers, clinging desperately to the edge of the boat.
"Got yer," said Tom, gripping the lad's wrist and hanging over the side
to speak. "Can't yer hold on while I get an oar out and move her a bit
furder away?"
"No. Help me in," said Aleck, huskily.
"Right, sir. Here, let me get my hands under yer arms, and I'll heave
yer in. I say, wheer's Eben Megg?"
"Out here. I've got hold of him."
Tom Bodger whistled softly in his astonishment.
"Hold tight on him, my lad," he growled; and then putting forth his
great strength of arm and back, he raised Aleck right over the boat's
side, and as Eben was drawn close in, loosened the former and got tight
hold of the latter.
"Can yer shift for yourself now, Master Aleck?" he whispered.
"Yes; but have you got Eben?"
"Ay, ay! Got him fast. Out o' my way."
The next minute the smuggler lay perfectly inert at the bottom of the
boat and Aleck was passing an oar over the stern and beginning to scull.
"Get another oar out, Tom," he whispered, "or they'll have us yet."
"Ay, ay!" was growled, softly.
But it was too loud, for a voice close at hand shouted:
"Now, then, you in the boat, it's of no use. Surrender, in the King's
name!"
The splashing made by the oars ceased, and Tom put his lips close to
Aleck's ear.
"You arn't going to surrender, are yer, Master Aleck?"
"No; use your oar as a pole, and get us farther away."
"Do you hear there?" cried another voice. "Heave-to, or I'll fire."
"All gammon, Master Aleck; I know. Don't believe they've got any
pistols."
"There was a shot fired," said Aleck.
"Orficer's, p'raps, sir. Here, I can't do no good a-poling; it's
getting deeper here."
"Scull then," said Aleck; "and be careful. They've got boats
somewhere."
Just then there was a flapping noise, which gave them a turn.
"What's that?" said Aleck, sharply.
"Wind got the sail loose," said Tom. "There's a nice breeze coming on.
Shall I shake out a reef or two of the sail, sir?"
"Yes, if you think we can see to steer?"
"Dunno about that, sir. We must go gently, and feel."
The next few minutes were devoted to preparations for spreading a
portion of the canvas to the light breeze, as they listened to hail
after hail from the shore; and then, as they began to glide softly
along, one of the hails from the shore bidding them heave-to was
answered from round to their right.
"Ay, ay, sir!"
"Keep a sharp look out for a boat somewhere off here. Three prisoners
in her escaping."
"My hye!" muttered Tom Bodger. "That's nice. Resisting the law too.
Strikes me as we're going to be in a mess."