In which Smallbones changes from a king's man into a smuggler, and also
changes his sex.
If we adhered to the usual plans of historical novel writers, we should,
in this instance, leave Smallbones to what must appear to have been his
inevitable fate, and then bring him on the stage again with a _coup de
théâtre_, when least expected by the reader. But that is not our
intention; we consider that the interest of this our narration of bygone
events is quite sufficient, without condescending to what is called
claptrap; and there are so many people in our narrative continually
labouring under deception of one kind or another, that we need not add
to it by attempting to mystify our readers; who, on the contrary, we
shall take with us familiarly by the hand, and, like a faithful
historian, lead them through the events in the order in which they
occurred, and point out to them how they all lead to one common end.
With this intention in view, we shall now follow the fortunes of
Smallbones, whom we left floundering in about seven fathoms water.
The weather was warm, even sultry, as we said before; but
notwithstanding which, and notwithstanding he was a very tolerable
swimmer, considering that he was so thin, Smallbones did not like it. To
be awoke out of a profound sleep, and all of a sudden to find yourself
floundering out of your depth about half a mile from the nearest land,
is anything but agreeable; the transition is too rapid. Smallbones
descended a few feet before he could divest himself of the folds of the
Flustering coat which he had wrapped himself up in. It belonged to
Coble, he had purchased it at a sale-shop on the Point for seventeen
shillings and sixpence, and, moreover, it was as good as new. In
consequence of this delay below water-mark, Smallbones had very little
breath left in his body when he rose to the surface, and he could not
inflate his lungs so as to call loud until the cutter had walked away
from him at least one hundred yards, for she was slipping fast through
the water, and another minute plainly proved to Smallbones that he was
left to his own resources.
At first, the lad had imagined that it was an accident, and that the
rope had given way with his weight; but when he found that no attention
was paid to his cries, he then was convinced that it was the work of Mr
Vanslyperken.
"By _gum_, he's a done for me at last. Well, I don't care, I can die but
once, that's sartin sure; and he'll go to the devil, that's
sartin sure."
And Smallbones, with this comfortable assurance, continued to strike out
for the land, which, indeed, he had but little prospect of ever making.
"A shame for to come for to go to murder a poor lad three or four times
over," sputtered Smallbones, after a time, feeling his strength fail
him. He then turned on his back, to ease his arms.
"I can't do it no how, I sees that," said Smallbones, "so I may just as
well go down like a dipsey lead."
But, as he muttered this, and was making up his mind to discontinue
further exertions,--not a very easy thing to do, when you are about to
go into another world, still floating on his back, with his eyes fixed
on the starry heavens, thinking, as Smallbones afterwards narrated
himself, that there wa'n't much to live for in this here world, and
considering what there could be in that 'ere, his head struck against
something hard. Smallbones immediately turned round in the water to see
what it was, and found that it was one of the large corks which
supported a heavy net laid out across the tide for the taking of
shoal-fish. The cork was barely sufficient to support his weight, but it
gave him a certain relief, and time to look about him, as the saying is.
The lad ran under the net and cork with his hands until he arrived at
the nearest shoal, for it was three or four hundred yards long. When he
arrived there, he contrived to bring some of the corks together, until
he had quite sufficient for his support, and then Smallbones voted
himself pretty comfortable after all, for the water was very warm, and
now quite smooth.
Smallbones, as the reader may have observed during the narration, was a
lad of most indisputable courage and of good principles. Had it been his
fortune to have been born among the higher classes, and to have had all
the advantages of education, he might have turned out a hero; as it was,
he did his duty well in that state of life to which he had been called,
and as he said in his speech to the men on the forecastle, he feared
God, honoured the king, and was the natural enemy to the devil.
The Chevalier Bayard was nothing more, only he had a wider field for his
exertions and his talents; but the armed and accoutred Bayard did not
show more courage and conduct when leading armies to victory, than did
the unarmed Smallbones against Vanslyperken and his dog. We consider
that _in his way_, Smallbones was quite as great a hero as the
Chevalier, for no man can do more than his best; indeed, it is
unreasonable to expect it.
While Smallbones hung on to the corks, he was calculating his chances of
being saved.
"If so be as how they comes to take up the nets in the morning, why then
I think I may hold on; but if so be they waits, why they'll then find me
dead as a fish," said Smallbones, who seldom ventured above a
monosyllable, and whose language if not considered as pure English, was
certainly amazingly Saxon; and then Smallbones began to reflect, whether
it was not necessary that he should forgive Mr Vanslyperken before he
died, and his pros and cons ended with his thinking he could, for it was
his duty; however he would not be in a hurry about it, he thought that
was the last thing that he need do; but as for the dog, he wa'n't
obliged to forgive him that was certain--as certain as that his tail was
off; and Smallbones, up to his chin in the water, grinned so at the
remembrance, that he took in more salt water than was pleasant.
He spit it out again, and then looked up to the stars, which were
twinkling above him.
I wonder what o'clock it is, thought Smallbones, when he thought he
heard a distant sound. Smallbones pricked up his ears and
listened;--yes, it was in regular cadence, and became louder and louder.
It was a boat pulling.
"Well, I am sure," thought Smallbones, "they'll think they have caught a
queer fish anyhow:" and he waited very patiently for the fisherman to
come up. At last he perceived the boat, which was very long and pulled
many oars. "They be the smuglars," thought Smallbones.
"I wonder whether they'll pick up a poor lad? Boat ahoy!"
The boat continued to pass towards the coast, impelled at the speed of
seven or eight miles an hour, and was now nearly abreast of Smallbones,
and not fifty yards from him.
"I say, boat ahoy!" screamed Smallbones, to the extent of his voice.
He was heard this time, and there was a pause in the pulling, the boat
still driving through the water with the impulse which had been given
her, as if she required no propelling power.
"I say you arn't a going for to come for to leave a poor lad here to be
drowned, are you?"
"That's Smallbones, I'll swear," cried Jemmy Ducks, who was steering the
boat, and who immediately shifted the helm.
But Sir Robert Barclay paused; there was too much at stake to run any
risk, even to save the life of a fellow-creature.
"You takes time for to think on it anyhow," cried Smallbones--"you are
going for to leave a fellow-christian stuck like a herring in a fishing
net, are you? you would not like it yourself, anyhow."
"It is Smallbones, sir," repeated Jemmy Ducks, "and I'll vouch for him
as a lad that's good and true."
Sir Barclay no longer hesitated: "Give way, my lads, and pick him up."
In a few minutes, Smallbones was hauled in over the gunnel, and was
seated on the stern-sheets opposite to Sir Robert.
"It's a great deal colder out of the water than in, that's sartain,"
observed Smallbones, shivering.
"Give way, my lads, we've no time to stay," cried Sir Robert.
"Take this, Smallbones," said Jemmy.
"Why, so it is, Jemmy Ducks!" replied Smallbones, with
astonishment--"why, how did you come here?"
"Sarcumstances," replied Jemmy; "how did you come there?"
"Sarcumstances too, Jemmy," replied Smallbones.
"Keep silence," said Sir Robert, and nothing more was said until the
lugger dashed into the cave.
The cargo was landed, and Smallbones who was very cold was not sorry to
assist. He carried up his load with the rest, and as usual the women
came half-way down to receive it.
"Why, who have we here?" said one of the women to whom Smallbones was
delivering his load, "why, it's Smallbones."
"Yes," replied Smallbones, it is me; "but how came you here, Nancy?"
"That's tellings, but how came you, my lad?" replied Nancy.
"I came by water anyhow."
"Well, you are one of us now, you know there's no going back."
"I'm sure I don't want to go back, Nancy; but what is to be done?
nothing unchristianlike I hope."
"We're all good Christians here, Smallbones; we don't bow down to idols
and pay duty to them as other people do."
"Do you fear God, and honour the king?"
"We do; the first as much as the other people, and as for the king, we
love him and serve him faithfully."
"Well, then I suppose that's all right," replied Smallbones; "but where
do you live?"
"Come with me, take your load up, and I will show you, for the sooner
you are there the better; the boat will be off again in half-an-hour, if
I mistake not."
"Off, where?"
"To France, with a message to the king."
"Why, the king's in Holland! we left him there when we sailed."
"Pooh! nonsense! come along."
When Sir Robert arrived at the cave, he found an old friend anxiously
awaiting his arrival; it was Graham, who had been despatched by the
Jacobites to the court of St Germains, with intelligence of great
importance, which was the death of the young Duke of Gloucester, the
only surviving son of King William. He had, it was said, died of a
malignant fever; but if the reader will call to mind the address of one
of the Jesuits on the meeting at Cherbourg, he may have some surmises as
to the cause of the duke's decease. As this event rendered the
succession uncertain, the hopes of the Jacobites were raised to the
highest pitch: the more so as the country was in a state of anxiety and
confusion, and King William was absent at the Hague. Graham had,
therefore, been despatched to the exiled James, with the propositions
from his friends in England, and to press the necessity of an invasion
of the country. As Nancy had supposed, Sir Robert decided upon
immediately crossing over to Cherbourg, the crew were allowed a short
time to repose and refresh themselves, and once more returned to their
laborious employment; Jemmy Ducks satisfied Sir Robert that Smallbones
might be trusted and be useful, and Nancy corroborated his assertions.
He was, therefore, allowed to remain in the cave with the women, and Sir
Robert and his crew, long before Smallbones' garments were dry, were
again crossing the English Channel.
Now, it must be observed, that Smallbones was never well off for
clothes, and, on this occasion, when he fell overboard, he had nothing
on but an old pair of thin linen trousers and a shirt which, from dint
of long washing, from check had turned to a light cerulean blue: what
with his struggles at the net and the force used to pull him into the
boat, the shirt had more than one-half disappeared--that is to say, one
sleeve and the back were wholly gone, and the other sleeve was well
prepared to follow its fellow, on the first capful of wind. His trousers
also were in almost as bad a state. In hauling him in, when his head was
over the gunnel, one of the men had seized him by the seat of his
trousers to lift him into the boat, and the consequence was, that the
seat of his trousers having been too long set upon, was also left in his
muscular gripe. All these items put together, the reader may infer,
that, although Smallbones might appear merely ragged in front, that in
his rear he could not be considered as decent, especially as he was the
only one of the masculine sex among a body of females. No notice was
taken of this by others, nor did Smallbones observe it himself, during
the confusion and bustle previous to the departure of the smugglers; but
now they were gone, Smallbones perceived his deficiencies, and was very
much at a loss what to do, as he was aware that daylight would discover
them to others as well as to himself: so he fixed his back up against
one of the rocks, and remained idle while the women were busily employed
storing away the cargo in the various compartments of the cave.
Nancy, who had not forgotten that he was with them, came up to him.
"Why do you stay there, Smallbones? you must be hungry and cold, come in
with me, and I will find you something to eat."
"I can't, Mistress Nancy, I want your advice first. Has any of the men
left any of their duds in this here cavern?"
"Duds, men! No, they keep them all on the other side. We have nothing
but petticoats here and shimmeys."
"Then what must I do?" exclaimed Smallbones.
"Oh, I see, your shirt is torn off your back. Well, never mind, I'll
lend you a shimmey."
"Yes, Mistress Nancy, but it be more worse than that, I an't got no
behind to my trousers, they pulled it out when they pulled me into the
boat. I sticks to this here rock for decency's sake. What must I do?"
Nancy burst into a laugh. "Do, why if you can't have men's clothes, you
must put on the women's, and then you'll be in the regular uniform of
the cave."
"I do suppose that I must, but I can't say that I like the idea much,
anyhow," replied Smallbones.
"Why, you don't mean to stick to that rock like a limpit all your life,
do you? there's plenty of work for you."
"If so be, I must, I must," replied Smallbones.
"You can't appear before Mistress Alice in that state," replied Nancy.
"She's a lady bred and born, and very particular too, and then there's
Miss Lilly, you will turn her as red as a rose, if she sees you."
"Well then, I suppose I must, Mistress Nancy, for I shall catch my death
of cold here, I'm all wet and shivery, from being so long in the water,
and my back against the rock, feels just as ice."
"No wonder, I'll run and fetch you something," replied Nancy, who was
delighted at the idea of dressing up Smallbones as a woman.
Nancy soon returned with a chemise, a short flannel petticoat, and a
shawl, which she gave to Smallbones, desiring him to take off his wet
clothes, and substitute them. She would return to him as soon as he had
put them on, and see that they were put tidy and right.
Smallbones retired behind one of the rocks, and soon shifted his
clothes, he put everything on the hind part before, and Nancy had to
alter them when she came. She adjusted the shawl, and then led him into
the cave where he found Mistress Alice, and some of the women who were
not busy with the cargo.
"Here's the poor lad who was thrown overboard, madam," said Nancy,
retaining her gravity. "All his clothes were torn off his back, and I
have been obliged to give him these to put on."
Lady Barclay could hardly repress a smile. Smallbones' appearance was
that of a tall gaunt creature, pale enough, and smooth enough to be a
woman certainly, but cutting a most ridiculous figure. His long thin
arms were bare, his neck was like a crane's, and the petticoats were so
short as to reach almost above his knees. Shoes and stockings he had
none. His long hair was platted and matted with the salt water, and one
side of his head was shaved, and exhibited a monstrous half-healed scar.
Lady Barclay asked him a few questions, and then desired Nancy to give
him some refreshment, and find him something to lie down upon in the
division of the cave which was used as a kitchen.
But we must now leave Smallbones to entertain the inhabitants of the
cave with the history of his adventures, which he did at intervals,
during his stay there. He retained his women's clothes, for Nancy would
not let him wear any other, and was a source of great amusement not only
to the smugglers' wives, but also to little Lilly, who would listen to
his conversation and remarks which were almost as naive and
unsophisticated as her own.