The threatening storm was giving abundant promise that it would soon
visit Carnac; and warned by its harbingers, the various red-sailed
luggers were making fast for the little port. Several had made the
shelter behind the arm of masonry which curved out from the shore, and
one of the last to run in was the boat owned by Tom Jennen and three
more.
They had just lowered the last sail, and, empty and disappointed, they
were about to make a line fast to one of the posts, when John Tregenna
ran quickly down to where Tom Jennen stood upon the stone pier, rope in
hand.
"Stop," he cried.
"What's the matter?" growled Jennen.
"I want you to take me across to--"
He whispered the rest.
"Storm coming. There'll be a gashly sea on directly, master. Pay out
more o' that line, will you?" he bellowed. "Don't you see she's foul o'
the anchor?"
"Ten pounds if you'll put off directly, and take me," said Tregenna,
glancing uneasily back.
"Wouldn't go for twenty," growled Jennen.
"Thirty, then, if you'll put off at once."
"Hear this, mates?" growled Jennen.
"No--er."
"Here's Master Tregenna says he'll give us thirty poun' if we'll take
him across to--"
"Hush!" cried Tregenna. "Yes, I'll give you thirty pounds, my men."
"There'll be quite a big storm directly," said another of the men.
"Thirty poun's a lot o' money, but life's more."
"Fifty, then. Here, fifty!" cried Tregenna, desperately. "Fifty
pounds, if you start at once."
He took the crisp, rustling bank-notes from his pocket-book, and held
them out, and it was too much for the men. They glanced at one another,
and then their decision was made.
"Here, hand it over, and jump in," cried Tom Jennen; and, thrusting the
notes into his pocket, he pointed to the boat, and no sooner had
Tregenna leaped in than, shortening his hold of the line, he began to
pull, while his mates handled their hitchers to set the lugger free.
Another minute, and Tom Jennen had leaped aboard, and they were hauling
up one of the sails, which began to flap and fill. Then one of them ran
to the tiller, the lugger gathered way, and rode round to the end of the
pier, rising to the summit of a good-sized wave, and gliding down the
other side, as a little mob of people came running down the pier,
shouting to them to stop.
"Take no notice. Go on," cried Tregenna, excitedly.
"Why, what's the matter?" said Tom Jennen, who, like his companions, was
in profound ignorance of the events that had taken place while they were
away.
"Keep on, and get out to sea," cried Tregenna, fiercely. "I have paid
you to take me, and you have the money."
"Stop that boat," roared old Prawle, who was now shouting and raving at
the end of the pier. "Come back--come back."
"Don't listen to the old madman," cried Tregenna. "Haul up the other
sail."
"We know how to manage our boat," said Jennen, sulkily; but he seized
the rope, one of the others followed his example, and the second sail
rose, caught the wind, and the lugger lay over and began to surge
through the wares.
"Stop that boat! Murder!" shouted old Prawle, gesticulating furiously,
while those who were with him waved their hands and shouted as well.
"Why, there's old Master Vorlea, the constable," said one of the men;
"and he seems to have gone off his head, too. What's the matter ashore,
Master Tregenna?"
"Matter? I don't know," cried Tregenna, hoarsely. "Keep on, and get me
to Plymouth as quickly as you can."
"We'll try," said Tom Jennen; "but with this gashly storm a-coming on
we'll never get out of the bay to-day."
"But you must," cried Tregenna, excitedly. "A man does not pay fifty
pounds unless his business is urgent."
"Or he wants to get away," said Tom Jennen, surlily, as he looked back
at the pier, now getting indistinct in the haze formed by the spray.
For the sea was rising fast, and as the fishers, who had made fast their
boats within the harbour, joined the crowd staring after the lugger that
had just put off, they shook their heads, and wondered what could have
tempted Tom Jennen and his mates to go.
They were not long in learning that old Prawle had been after John
Tregenna, charging him with the murder of the child, and the attempt to
kill her he supposed to be its mother; but Tregenna seemed to have been
seized by a horror of encountering Prawle, and he had fled as if for his
life, while, with all the pertinacity of a bloodhound, the old man had
tried to hunt him down, following him from place to place, where he
sought for refuge, till, with the dread increasing in force, the guilty
man had fled to the harbour, and, as the coach would not leave again
till the next day, he had bribed the crew of the lugger to take him
within reach of the railway.
As Prawle saw the boat get beyond his reach, he looked round for one to
go in pursuit; and he turned to hurry back home, with the intent of
putting off in his own, but as he did so his eyes swept the horizon, his
life of experience told him what would follow, and he sat down upon one
of the mooring posts with a low, hoarse laugh.
"Does Tom Jennen think he's going to get out of the bay to-day?" he
said.
"He'll have hard work," shouted the man nearest to him.
"Hard work? He'll be running for home ere two hours are gone, if his
boat don't sink, for they've got Jonah on board yonder, and the sea's
a-rising fast."