Under the guidance of Lewis, who acted as pilot, we must have turned down a lane before reaching Tod's Corner, and on leaving the main road our two large lamps were promptly extinguished. The wonder was that the cumbrous vehicle was not overturned twenty times in the first mile. Any ordinary driver might have refused to make the attempt in broad daylight, and on a dark night it needed skill as well as courage, both of which, however, Rodwood seemed to possess in a marked degree. I heard afterwards that in his palmy days he had owned and driven a coach of his own, which no doubt accounted for the masterly way in which he handled the ribbons.
The hour would now have been considered late by country people. There was little chance of any one being about; the chief risk, and that a remote one, lay in the possibility of encountering and being challenged by a "riding officer," a branch of the preventive service whose duty it was during the night to patrol and examine lanes and byroads near the coast, and thus hamper the movements of the smugglers on shore. Though I did not know it till later, this chance of being stopped had been discussed by Lewis and the leader of the gang, who, in the event of such a thing taking place, was fully prepared to resort to desperate measures, and drove with a pistol ready cocked lying on the seat by his side.
On and on we went, jolting and lurching like a fishing-smack in a choppy sea. There was no singing now; the men, as might have been expected, were watchful, and intent on making good their escape. The coach's disappearance from the highroad might not be discovered for some hours yet; on the other hand, any belated farm-labourer, hearing or seeing us as we lumbered past in the darkness, would surely guess that something unusual was happening, and might raise an alarm.
It is difficult for me to recall my own personal feelings at this stage of the adventure. I think I had too much confidence in the good will shown by Lewis and the other men whom we had in a small way befriended to feel really afraid. I was chiefly curious to know where the hiding-place existed in which we should be so securely stowed. Perhaps it was some secret loft or cellar, many of which Miles had declared existed at Rockymouth. Here we should no doubt lie till the following evening, when the convicts would continue their escape by land or water, and George Woodley and I would be set free.
How long we continued jogging onward at a walking pace I cannot say; we should certainly have been overturned had we attempted to go faster, and even at that slow rate it seemed to me that we must have gone miles beyond our destination, and possibly have travelled far along some byroad running parallel with the coast. Then suddenly the coach stopped; there was a murmur of conversation, and we heard the men clambering down from the roof.
A moment later the door was opened, and a voice ordered us to dismount—a feat which it was not altogether easy for Woodley and me to accomplish, still fettered as we were, wrist to wrist. The moment I was outside the vehicle the fresh salt breath of the sea saluted my cheeks and nostrils. We stood on the high ground above Rockymouth, and the narrow lane along which we had come now emerged from between high hedges and cultivated ground, and crossed a stretch of open common or moorland. A mile distant, and far beneath us, the little haven snuggled down in the sheltering valley, the only sign of its existence being one tiny point of light from some cottage window where perhaps watchers sat beside a sickbed.
The last of the outside passengers was helped down from the roof as though he had suffered some injury and was partially disabled. I could not see clearly enough to distinguish what was really the matter with him, but I noticed that in all his subsequent movements he seemed to be led or supported by one of his companions.
By mutual consent the men gathered round us in a group, while the tired horses shook their heads and champed their bits. There we stood, a strange company, and in the silence, broken only by their heavy breathing, a feeling of apprehension began to take hold of me, and I wondered what would happen next.
"What's the time?" demanded Rodwood abruptly. "The guard's got a watch; just have a look, some of you."
The "flink" of a flint and steel was sufficient to show the position of the hands on the broad face of the old-fashioned timepiece, and a voice murmured, "Close on ten."
"Well, boys," began Rodwood, "the first question is, What's to be done with the coach? We can't go to sea in her; and if we leave her here, it's as good as giving the whole countryside information as to our whereabouts."
For a moment there was a silence. A coach and four is not a thing that can be hidden away in the nearest hedgerow, and hitherto the convicts had regarded it merely as a means of escape. At length the man named Nat, who had ridden inside as our guard, spoke up. He had struck me all along as a reckless rascal, and his suggestion certainly confirmed the opinion I had formed.
"Why not send her over the cliffs?" he asked. "No chance of her being found then. I know this coast—a sheer drop into the water in most places. The horses can be turned loose on the common, and I don't suppose they'll be noticed for a day or so. Even when they are found, no one can say very well where they come from."
This outrageous proposal seemed to appeal to the leader of the gang.
"Bravo!" he exclaimed. "Come on, my lads! Where's the 'free trader'? He'll show the way."
The idea of the old True Blue being wantonly hurled over the cliffs into the sea was too much for poor George Woodley. He burst out into a torrent of angry expostulations, but was promptly silenced by Rodwood, who flourished a pistol in his face, at the same time bidding him hold his tongue unless he wished to follow the coach on its last journey.
With Lewis and Rodwood in front, two men leading the horses, and the rest of the party, George and myself included, following behind in a sort of funeral procession, we went stumbling across the common. Once I thought I heard Lewis expressing some dislike to the business in hand, but his objections, if such they were, were speedily overridden. Rodwood was beginning to feel his feet more as leader of the party, and enforced obedience to his commands with a swagger and bluster which was well calculated to win respect from his jail-bird following. The murmur of the sea grew more and more distinct as we neared the dark line of headlands; then, at length, the swaying coach came to a standstill.
"Now, then, get their clothes off them!" ordered Rodwood.
The command had reference to the horses, from which the harness was speedily stripped and flung inside the coach. With a cut of the whip they were then driven off into the darkness. As the common extended some distance down the coast, it was probable that before daylight the animals would have strayed far from the spot where they had been liberated.
"Save the lamps," was the next command, "and see if there's anything in the fore or hind boot."
Owing to the peculiar character of its passengers, the coach was found to be carrying practically nothing in the way of luggage, except my own trunk and the one large hamper already mentioned, which had been pushed into the boot for conveyance to Castlefield, probably to relieve the mail, which was sure to be heavily laden at this time of the year. From the gruff remarks of the would-be plunderers, it was evident that they were disappointed. It was probably within the knowledge of most of them that a stage coach sometimes carried a valuable cargo; in fact, not more than two years after the date of my story a bank parcel containing notes and gold to the value of £5,700 was stolen from a coach running between Glasgow and Edinburgh—the thieves in this instance travelling as inside passengers, and cutting a hole with brace-bit and saw through the body of the coach into the boot, from which the plunder was then extracted.
However, a basket of provisions was, in a way, a valuable find; for the question of food was likely to become a serious problem before the members of the gang regained their full freedom. Rodwood therefore told off two of his followers to carry the basket, refused to allow the men to drink the other bottle of wine, and bade one of the party unhang the game from the lamp-iron and carry it slung over his shoulder.
My box was forced open and speedily overhauled; but as it contained little besides spare clothing, it was flung back into the coach. It would have been useless for me to expostulate and claim my property—the rascals were not likely to leave such a piece of evidence lying about on the grass—and I held my tongue.
"It's half-tide," I heard Lewis mutter. "There's a ledge of rock she'll land on, but the flood will carry off the wreckage."
The last moments of the True Blue had come.
"Turn her round and back her over," ordered Rodwood.
Awed by the thought of such wanton destruction, I stood with my eyes fixed upon the dark body of the coach, as for half a minute or so it rocked and swayed against the sky-line; then, with a subdued shout from the men, it suddenly disappeared. A moment later, from far beneath came a mighty crash of woodwork and the sharp tinkle of shivered glass.
George Woodley groaned, and ground his teeth with rage. But for the fact that we were still chained together and I held him back, I believe he would have rushed upon the gang and fought them with his bare hands.
"The murderous villains!" he muttered. "Fancy throwing a stage-coach into the sea, as if it were nothing more than an old fish-basket!"
"Steady, George," I whispered. "Keep your mouth shut. We're in the hands of these men, and they'll stop at nothing now to get their liberty. Be thankful they didn't knock us on the head at the first, or leave us tied to a tree to perish with the cold."
Once more the men instinctively formed a group round their leader, to learn what should be done next.
"I expect they're all abed in the village by this time," said Lewis; "still, there's nothing like making sure. There's a little place hereabouts where the rest of you can lie snug while I go down and put the oars in the boat, and see that all's quiet."
At the mention of the boat I pricked up my ears. Was it possible that some smuggling lugger was then off the coast, and that the gang were going straight on board? If so, what was to become of Woodley and myself? Surely they would not want to carry us with them across to France! In another hour, perhaps, we should regain our liberty.
A short distance away was a cavity in the ground—a sort of dried pit surrounded and overhung by gorse bushes. Into this, by Lewis's direction, we all crept, and lay or squatted in a huddled mass upon the ground. It was bitterly cold; my teeth chattered, and I was glad enough to creep close to George Woodley for the extra warmth. If Rodwood had been allowed to carry out his intention of binding us to a couple of trees in the lonely copse, the pair of us must certainly have been frozen stiff by morning. I could only hope that the shelter of the cottage and the warmth of the straw would preserve the warders and Tom from a similar fate.
It still wanted more than an hour to midnight, yet it seemed as if the darkness must have lasted a week, and I could hardly bring myself to believe that it was but a few hours since I had left the shelter of the Sportsman.
The convicts began to talk to each other in low tones, the chief topic of conversation being the likelihood of pursuit. Would the disappearance of the coach from the highroad have been discovered by now? This might or might not be the case. Breakdowns sometimes occurred which caused delay, and in case of anything serious the guard sometimes rode forward on one of the horses to obtain assistance.
"They must have been expecting of us at the stage beyond Tod's Corner," said one fellow; "and most likely after a time they'll send a man back as far as the last stopping-place. He'll hear we passed there all right, and then the question'll be what's become of us." The speaker chuckled, as though picturing to himself the astonishment of the stableman when it dawned on him that a coach and four, with guard, driver, and passengers, had apparently vanished into thin air, at some spot on the ten or twelve miles of dark, lonely road over which he had just ridden.
"It's bound to come out some time," answered a voice which I recognized as Rodwood's; "but it'll take time. Granted that the man has ridden back by now and found out that we're gone—well, what's he going to do? He and the rest will waste another hour talking; or perhaps they'll wait for the mail to come along, and tell the folks on that what's happened. Then it's ten to one they'll take it for granted that we've made off further inland. No; we're safe enough at present. With anything like luck we ought to have a fair start till morning."
Hardly had the words been uttered when there came a warning "Hist!" from some member of the gang whose sense of hearing must have been particularly acute. Men who go in constant peril of losing their liberty need no second hint of the presence of danger, and at once a deathlike silence prevailed. So infectious was the suppressed excitement that I felt the strain as much as if I myself had been an escaping prisoner. My heart thumped, and I held my breath, eager to ascertain the cause of the alarm.
For some moments I heard nothing; then, distinct and not far distant, there was a metallic tinkle as of a light chain. A pause followed, and then the sound was repeated, this time nearer to the pit, while at the same instant an exactly similar noise came from some little distance away in the opposite direction. On that wild spot, at such an hour, any sound not attributable to the wild animals or the forces of nature might have awakened the listener's curiosity; but in the present instance it was calculated to arouse something more than idle speculation. Not a man moved—they sat or crouched like figures of stone; and once again came that ominous jingle, exactly like the sound that might be caused by the movements of a man whose limbs were fettered.
"It's the 'screws'!" exclaimed one fellow in a horrified whisper, with that morbid superstition which is sometimes found in criminals. "This frost has done for them, and now they're following us with their ghosts!"
"Shut your mouth, you fool!" replied his companion fiercely. "If that's living men after us with the 'ruffles,' they won't put 'em on me! I'll make a few more ghosts before that happens!"
It was evident that the whole party had arrived at the same conclusion—that, by some means or other, they had already been tracked down by pursuers and their whereabouts discovered. How this could have happened it was impossible to imagine; but there was no mistaking that sound—more than one person was moving towards us on the common, incautiously allowing their approach to be heralded by the jingling of chains. For the moment I think even Rodwood forgot the presence of George Woodley and myself; but even if the thought had occurred to either of us to do such a thing, it would have been madness for us to shout or give any signal betraying our whereabouts, as we should certainly have paid the penalty of our lives for such an act.
The sharp tinkle sounded first on one side of the pit, and then on the other. Noiselessly Rodwood thrust his head forward into the centre of his followers.
"They're coming up on both sides," he whispered. "It's that man Lewis has done it," added the speaker, with an imprecation. "He's informed, to get his own liberty. This is a trap; but they won't take me out of it alive! Now, lads, no backing out. There are ten of us, and if we all strike together we'll prove a match for them yet!"
The words were followed by a click indicating the cocking of a pistol, and I noticed that the man nearest to me was working at a fragment of rock, endeavouring to dislodge it for use as a weapon.
At any other time I think I should have openly contradicted this charge of treachery against the absent man. Comparatively little as I knew of Lewis, I felt sure that whatever his faults might have been, he was never untrue to his own code of honour. I was, however, wise enough to hold my tongue, for a word uttered just then had like to have been the last I had ever spoken.
The clinking noise came nearer. There were long pauses between each repetition of the noise, as though the bearers were advancing cautiously, intending, when they got within easy distance of the pit, to carry the position with a final rush. Now on either side of us they appeared to be close at hand; the fateful moment had surely arrived, and my heart seemed to stop beating. The rascal at my side had loosened his jagged stone, and was clutching it with murderous intent; while the rest of the gang crouched, ready to spring to action at a signal from their leader.
Then suddenly the man named Nat broke out into a roar of hoarse laughter. The noise was, I think, more of a shock to the overstrained nerves of his comrades than a dozen pistol-shots. They sprang to their feet with a perfect howl of pent-up excitement. The next instant I fully expected their pursuers would leap down upon us, and the pit become the scene of a fierce conflict. Instinctively I shrank back under the overhanging bushes; but, to my surprise, nothing happened.
"Ho, ho!" burst out the voice of Nat above the confusion; "it's not the 'screws,' it's only some of those sheep! They chain them together out here on the coast, to prevent them straying."
"Keep quiet, you fool!" cried Rodwood. "D'you want to wake up every man in Rockymouth with your bull's roaring? Silence, you noisy hound, or I'll crack your skull with the butt of this pistol!"
However much inclined other members of the gang might have been to relieve their overstrung nerves with a laugh, Rodwood's threat was enough to force them into silence. One man sprung out of the hollow, and returned a moment later confirming Nat's statement regarding the sheep; and then, for the first time, I remembered having seen the animals on the cliffs, during my summer rambles with Miles, grazing in couples fastened together with collars and a chain, to hamper their movements and prevent their wandering.
It was certainly a ludicrous ending to what had seemed a tragic situation, but for my own part I was little inclined to laugh; and as the man beside me flung down his piece of rock, I could but feel thankful that the disturbance had proved a false alarm.
Once more the gang settled down to await the return of Lewis, who at length appeared with the intelligence that all was quiet in the village. With Rodwood and the old smuggler leading, and the rest of the party following in a straggling line, we made our way across the common and down a steep slope on the seaward side of the village. As George Woodley and I stumbled along over the uneven ground the handcuffs jerked, and chafed our fettered wrists; but the chance of our giving them the slip in the darkness and rousing up a pursuit was too serious a risk for the convicts to make it likely that they would liberate us at that important moment of their escape. On we went in perfect silence, skirting the village; and now almost immediately beneath us lay the harbour, sheltered from the beat of the open sea by the curved stone jetty, which always reminded me of a defending arm, crooked at the elbow, shielding the small craft which sought its protection. They had no need of it on this particular night, for the sea could not have been calmer if the month had been June instead of December.
Close behind me came the man whom I had seen helped down from the roof of the coach; and now, from a muttered word uttered now and again, I gathered that he was blind. Assisted, however, as before, by a comrade, he kept pace with the rest, and gave less trouble than might have been expected. We were half-way down the precipitous hillside when the leaders came to an abrupt halt—an example followed immediately by the rest of the party—and as we steadied ourselves, digging our heels into the ground, a voice cried,—
"Listen!"
It was the blind man who spoke. He had already uttered the word once before in a lower key, and I knew now that it was he who had given the first warning of the tinkling chains as we crouched in the pit.
As I have already said, the sea was very calm; there was no surf beating on the rocks, and in addition to this it was one of those still, frosty nights when the slightest sound can be heard with great distinctness. Sharp and clear, as though not more than a hundred yards distant, came the rhythmic clatter of a galloping horse. It was probably still the better part of a mile distant, descending the long, steep hill to the village; but the sides of the valley threw back and intensified the sound, so that an impression was given of the rider being close at hand. It was not likely that any one would gallop at headlong speed into Rockymouth at close on midnight on a winter's night unless his business was urgent; and it did not take the escaped prisoners long to find a reason for the messenger's hot haste.
"The murder's out!" cried Rodwood. "They've guessed the direction we've gone in from the wheel-tracks. Now we shall have every dog in the county set at our heels!"
"It's one of the riding officers has got the news, I'll warrant!" answered Lewis.—"Come on, lads! only a nimble pair of feet will save you."
"Forward!" cried the man who now acted as our guard, at the same time giving George and myself a shove which nearly sent us headlong down the slope, while the whole party went plunging recklessly from ridge to ridge after the fleet-footed smuggler. Once, as Woodley made a false step, I thought my right wrist was broken, but we were too well aware of the mood of our companions to show any signs of hesitation. Gaining the level ground, we rushed on past the few cottages which straggled out towards the sea; the men, careless now of the noise their heavy boots made on the rocky ground, tore along, thinking only of speed, and for the most part believing that the horseman was close at their heels. Another moment, and we were stumbling breathlessly into the boat which Lewis had already drawn alongside the jetty. Down she sank under the unaccustomed load, until it seemed to me the gunnels were almost level with the water; then the damp stone wall began to recede—Lewis had pushed off—and the next instant the oars were grinding in the rowlocks.
Slowly we gathered way, and cleared the end of the pier; a gentle heave betokened the open sea, and as we felt it a shouting was heard in the village.
"We've got a start, anyway," muttered Lewis, who was bending his back to a long, steady stroke.
"Hullo!" exclaimed one of the men, "there's a dog crouching under this seat. How did he get in the boat, I wonder?"
"Let him be," answered the smuggler. "He won't do no harm. He's mine, and met me in the village. He'd only sit and howl if we left him ashore."
Hardly had the words been uttered when the boat gave a sudden violent lurch, which brought the water rushing in over the side. Had not George and I flung ourselves promptly to starboard, and thus brought all our weight to bear in the opposite direction, the overloaded craft would certainly have capsized, and flung all its occupants into the sea. In his excitement the convict who had taken the second oar had "caught a crab," and thus narrowly escaped bringing the adventures of the whole party to an untimely termination.
"You lubber!" growled Lewis.—"Isn't there a man among you who can pull an oar?"
"I can row if you'll free my hand," I exclaimed, not relishing the prospect of a watery grave, which was inevitable if this boatload of landsmen were once overturned.
"Yes, Master Eden, you'll do; I've seen you in a boat before," was the reply.—"For any sake cast off the boy's irons, some of you, and let him come forward."
Feeling rather proud, I fancy, as a boy might in proving himself superior to a number of grown men, I changed seats, and bent with a will to the oar, keeping time with the swing of Lewis's figure, which was dimly visible in the gloom. Thus the boat crept out to sea, and turning moved in a westerly direction down the coast.
There was no sign or sound of pursuit; our departure from the harbour had evidently not been discovered. I was too much occupied with my oar to notice where we were going; but at last, when my arms were beginning to ache, and I feared I should have to ask to be relieved, Lewis ceased rowing, bidding me do the same; then turning, to my surprise I found we were close to shore, while above us towered the face of a mighty cliff.
Flinging his oar over the stern, with a skilful twisting of his wrist the old sailor sculled the boat carefully towards the towering mass of rock. In another moment I thought we should strike, and prepared involuntarily for the expected shock; then a half-circle of blackness resolved itself into the narrow, tunnel-like mouth of a cave.
Gently we drifted through the opening, a man in the bows guiding us with his hand, until the darkness became absolutely impenetrable, and the intense stillness was broken only by the lapping of water against the sides of the cavern.
This, then, was Lewis's promised hiding-place, and his assertion that there would be no danger of the men being found seemed no idle boast.
"Hi there! one of you men forrard, light the lamp!" said Lewis, ceasing in the motion of sculling. "Let's see where we're going."
His voice sounded strange and hollow, like that of a person speaking under an archway; and a rumbling echo of his words came back from the distance, showing that the cave was of considerable extent.
Rodwood had plundered a tinder-box from one of the warders, and the next moment the oarsman's request was responded to with the click, click of flint and steel. Even the strong glare of the big coach lamp did little more than reveal the surrounding darkness; the black water flashed and sparkled, and as the beam of light was directed from side to side the walls of the cavern loomed up out of the gloom. As yet there was no sign of the end of the cave, which was of a size altogether out of proportion to its narrow opening. It was lofty as well as long, and from the manner in which the walls went down perpendicularly into the sea, I imagined that there was a good depth of water beneath our keel.
"Turn the light ahead!" ordered Lewis, and once more the sculling oar was set in motion.
Slowly we penetrated farther and farther into the mighty foundation of the great cliff; then suddenly there was a bump, which shook us on our seats. I thought at first that the boat had grounded on a rock; but she gathered way again, though with something grating against her side.
"Hullo!" came from the man who was acting the part of lookout in the bow; "there's something floating in the water."
The lamp was brought to bear, and a number of dark objects were discovered alongside.
"It's wreck-wood," said Nat, leaning over the gunwale and grasping the end of a broken spar. "There's quite a lot of it, and cargo too. That over there looks like the top of a barrel."
Lewis bent down and examined the floating debris with a critical eye.
"The set of the current brings a good bit of driftwood in here," he mumbled, "specially after a south-easterly gale. Hum! that's bad," he continued, as something seemed to catch his eye. "Looks uncommon as if one of the boats had gone ashore, or maybe been driven on Sawback Reef. It was blowing hard a week back; I could tell that even in the jail at Welmington."
Once more the boat moved on, a slight jar every now and then bespeaking the presence of more wreckage; then a shout from the lookout warned us that we had reached the end of our journey.
The cavern terminated in a platform of rock raised some six or eight feet above high-water level, and having a surface which might in all have afforded as much space as the floor of a fairly large sized room; some niches and ledges in the side of the cavern formed a sort of rude natural staircase from the water's edge, while a rusty iron ring seemed to show that boats had been moored there before.
"Now then, up with you!" said Lewis. "But mind what you're about. There's water running down from the roof which makes the rock uncommon slippery."
There being no longer any chance of our giving them the slip, and perhaps mindful of the service I had rendered in manning the second oar, the convicts seemed once more fairly well disposed towards George and myself. One of them lent me a hand as I clambered up the rock; another performed a similar service for Woodley. The hamper, the dead game, and the two lamps were transferred to the platform from the boat, and Lewis made fast the painter. The dog had scrambled up the rocks almost as soon as the boat touched. He had evidently been there before.
"Well, I'm hungry," cried one man; "I could chaw a leather strap! Just open that basket."
"Can't we start a fire?" inquired another fellow, whose teeth were chattering loudly. "I'm perished with the cold. There's wood enough in the water to burn for a week; and though it is wet, if we use the dry straw and the hamper for kindling, we shall be able to make a start, and once having done that, it'll be easy enough with a little care to keep going."
Numbed and chilled to the bone, the prospect of warmth seemed to appeal to the majority of the gang even more strongly than the necessity for food, and under Rodwood's direction they set to work to prepare fuel for a fire. In order that the hamper itself might be broken up for kindlings, it had first to be emptied of its contents, which were found to consist of a good-sized turkey, some mince-pies, a small cheese, some sausages, and a quantity of apples; also the bottle of wine which had not yet been opened. So utterly incongruous and out of place did this Christmas fare appear when exposed to view in that sea cavern, under circumstances so extraordinary, that the group of onlookers gave vent to their feelings with a burst of laughter.
"I take it wery kind of the folks as packed the 'amper for this 'ere picnic," said one of the convicts. "They evidently remembered my weakness for sarsengers!"
A long fissure in the rock, which was henceforth known as the "cupboard," afforded a suitable place for stowing away the provisions; and a tarred plank having in the meantime been fished out of the water, one burly fellow proceeded to split it into small pieces with the aid of a large clasp-knife belonging to George. A fire was soon kindled in the centre of the platform, more wreckage was collected by Lewis in the boat, and either heaped on the blaze or piled around it to dry. The sight of the crackling flames seemed to have an immediate cheering effect on the men, who gathered round, warming their numbed hands and exchanging jokes on the subject of their escape.
"Now then," exclaimed their leader, as the fire began to burn clear on one side, "make a spit, some of you, and bring along that turkey. You don't expect a party of gentlemen to eat it raw like a pack of starving dogs, I suppose?"
Some of these jail-birds seemed to have a wonderful knack of making the most of any material which might come to hand. Utilizing some pieces of wreck-wood, shaped roughly with the clasp-knife, they rigged up a kind of spit, which promised at least to prevent the necessity of our devouring the turkey raw. At the same time Lewis took the dipper from the boat, and placed it in such a position that it caught the thin trickle of fresh water which, as has already been mentioned, ran down one side of the rock.
I thought then, and have done so many a time since, how little the unknown person who packed that hamper imagined how and by whom the provisions which it contained would be consumed! Possibly it was the gift of the wife of some gentleman farmer, intended as Christmas cheer for some relative in the town. Now, instead of reaching its destination in the ordinary manner, it was supplying the needs of a band of outlaws in the fastness of a sea cavern.
There was nothing particularly appetizing about the half-cooked meat divided up with the big blade of a pocket-knife, and subsequently conveyed to the mouth with the fingers; but I myself felt ravenous, after the riding, tramping, and rowing in the cold night air. I was glad enough to receive my portion of the bird, and to eat it without the accompaniment of bread or even salt. The water in the dipper was heated over the fire, and wine added from the remaining bottle. The negus had, to be sure, a brackish flavour, but it sent a glow of warmth through our chilled bodies, and when the bowl was emptied a second brew was demanded.
At length the strange meal ended, and Rodwood ordered the lamp to be extinguished.
"It won't burn for ever," he said, "and we may want the light before we've finished."
With their faces illumined only with the flicker of the fire, the convicts gathered round to get as much warmth as possible, Woodley and I being forced to join the circle for the same reason; while old Joey retired to a corner, and there crunched up the bones and fragments which had been flung to him by the men.
Being but a boy, I think I was to a certain extent fascinated by the strangeness of the adventure. It seemed as if I personally were sharing the excitements as well as the hazards of the escape, though in my case there was no sense of guilt to lie heavy on my conscience. I might have been a prisoner wrongfully convicted making a dash for liberty. The delusion was perhaps strengthened by the fact that up to the present the personal risk and danger I had run had not been very great. Of Rodwood I certainly felt afraid, regarding him as an unscrupulous ruffian; but the remainder of the gang, perhaps with the exception of Nat, I believed certainly bore us more good will than ill, and would set us at liberty again as soon as they could do so without endangering the success of their own plans.
So, in a comparatively tranquil frame of mind, I stretched my tired limbs on the rock beside Woodley, and listened to the conversation.
"Well, and how long do you reckon we're going to stay here?" demanded Nat.
"We can't stir to-morrow—that is, not in daylight," answered Rodwood; "and I'm not sure if it'll be safe to do so at night either. There'll be too sharp a lookout kept for some days to make it over safe for us to take our walks abroad."
"Why can't we stay here for a week," said one fellow, "until the chase has been abandoned? If the food runs short, we could get more some night from the village; at least," he added with a laugh, "I reckon I could find some if any one will put me ashore!"
"It's risky to stay too long," muttered Lewis.
"What d'you mean?" asked Rodwood sharply. "I thought you offered to find us a safe hiding-place where there'd be no danger."
"I said where there'd be no danger of being found."
"Then what other risk is there?"
"The chance of getting in without being able to get out," was the reply. There was a certain ominous sound in the speaker's voice which attracted every man's attention, and I noticed that George Woodley turned his head to listen.
"What's the good of beating about the bush?" growled one man. "Speak out plain, you fool!"
"Why," returned the smuggler, "what I mean is, you can't get in or out of this place with anything of a rough sea running. It's calm now, but there's no knowing how long the weather's going to hold this time of year. You can't expect to walk out of jail and get off without running risks; if you steer clear of one, you must take your chance of running into another. Here's a place where there's precious little chance of your being found, except by them who, at a word from me, would take care not to see you; but there's equal chance, if you stay here till a gale should happen to spring up, that you'll be missing till the day of judgment."
The truth of this assertion seemed to shock the group of listeners into a momentary silence. To myself the danger of our present position became at once evident, and a sense of fear chilled my heart as I listened to the lapping of the water and thought of what must be our fate if the slumbering sea awoke in fury, and the huge billows thundered through the mouth of the cave. There was little doubt but that in a storm the ledge on which we rested would be swept clean with the surges, and any living being seeking refuge there would soon be drawn into the surf and dashed to pieces against the sides of the cavern.
"What d'you propose to do, then?" inquired Rodwood.
"It's no use to stir abroad in daylight," answered Lewis; "we must wait here till to-morrow night. Then I thought I'd go alone into Rockymouth, and try and get a word with them as will help us. They'll say how soon there's a chance of our getting across the water. I'll bring back some more food; and if I see any sign of bad weather, why, we must get out of this, and find some snug hole among the bushes on the cliffs. Maybe during to-morrow all that ground will be searched, and folks won't trouble to look there again."
For a few seconds the leader of the gang remained thinking, with his chin resting on his hand; then I saw him raise his head and dart a quick glance at Lewis.
"See here!" he exclaimed; "how are we to know that when you once get among your friends you'll ever come back again? I don't suppose there's a man among us who can swim; and if the fact of our being left behind should happen to slip your memory, here we should remain, like rats in a drain-pipe, to either starve or drown."
"When my word's given I don't go back on it," replied Lewis. "If you doubt me, you can send a man along with me in the boat."
"There, there, my friend! don't get angry," replied Rodwood with a laugh. "You've served us well in the past, and there's no reason to doubt you in the future; but when a man has knocked about the world as much as I have; he gets to look at a thing from more than one point of view."
Overcome at length by the fatigues and excitements of the day, and rendered still more drowsy by the grateful warmth of the fire, I
A vague sense of pain and discomfort at length began to enter into my dreams, and soon I awoke to find that, from having lain so long in one position on the hard rock, I was aching in every limb as though I had been beaten. For a moment or so my head swam with bewilderment as I stared about me and wondered where I was. It was like the recovering of consciousness after a fall. But presently the full recollection of the previous day's adventure flooded my memory. I struggled into a sitting posture, and gazed around. The sun had risen, but the mouth of the cavern being so small and far distant, the surrounding objects were visible in a sort of gray twilight, such as might have illumined some underground dungeon with but a single small barred window high up in the wall. The other members of the party were already astir—one man mending the fire, another plucking one of the pheasants we had brought with us, and a group of two or three hauling up more of the wreck-wood out of the water on to the platform.
Looking towards the mouth of the cave from where I sat was much like surveying the interior of a modern railway tunnel which by some means had become flooded, except that the cavern was more lofty. The roof itself was lost in darkness; but as far as I could make out, exactly over our ledge was a wide hole in the rock, like the perpendicular shaft of an old-fashioned chimney. This, however, was only discernible by the space of denser black amid the general gloom.
Shivering with the cold, I was glad enough to get some warmth by assisting in building up the fire. The broken spars which had been recovered the previous night were dry by this time, and made good fuel, of which there seemed a sufficient supply to more than last out our needs. There being no beach for nearly a mile on either side of us, a quantity of flotsam, as Lewis explained, was often to be found in the cavern, carried there by the current.
Our breakfast was a frugal one—a sausage and a small hunk of cheese served out to each man—Rodwood having determined to husband the food supply. Then the gang settled down to endure as best they could the long hours of waiting till it would be safe for Lewis to venture forth and bring back such information as would enable them to decide on their further movements.
From the time I awoke, the unpleasant conviction began gradually to force itself on my mind that the attitude and disposition of the escaped prisoners towards George and myself was undergoing a change. In the first glow of their gratitude for the small kindnesses and services which we had shown them, they had gone to an extreme in their expression of good will, but now a reaction became evident. Any obligation to us which they might have felt on the previous evening was now forgotten. They began to resent our presence among them, and appeared to regret that they had not taken their leader's advice, and not hampered their escape by bringing us with them to the coast. As far as was possible in such a limited space, they excluded us from their society, allowing us to have no share in their conversation, which, for the most part, seemed to turn on the various misdeeds for which they had suffered.
"What's to be done with 'em when we get out of here?" I heard one man remark.
"That'll be seen when the time comes," answered another. "I don't suppose they'd thank us to take 'em with us over to France."
On comparing notes with George, I found he had already remarked the same thing, but had refrained from mentioning it for fear of causing me unnecessary alarm.
"Laugh every now and again as if we were talking about something comic," he whispered as we sat together, a little apart from the rest. "It won't do to let 'em think we suspect them or notice any change."
So with many feigned grins and chuckles we continued our talk, though Heaven knows I never in my life felt less in a laughing mood.
"What d'you think they'll do with us?" I asked.
"How can I tell?" he answered. "But any one could see that there's rocks ahead for you and me. Put yourself in their place, and leave everything out of the question but your own safety, and think what's to be done. Once give us our freedom, and how are they to know that we shan't loose the dogs on their heels the very next minute? Another thing: if they take us with them, we shall be able to identify the men who help them in their escape—the crew of some smuggling craft, I expect—and it's not likely, with that knowledge in our heads, we shall be left to walk straight off to the nearest justice of the peace."
"Then what will they do with us? They can't leave us here; that would be worse than downright murder."
"There's no knowing what they'll do," answered George evasively.
"Old Lewis will remain our friend," I replied. "I'm sure he'll not stand by and allow us to come to harm."
"But what's he to do by himself, one to nine?" was the reply. "These are desperate men, and prepared for desperate measures. We're about as safe here, Master Eden, as if we were in a den of tigers."
"But Lewis can say, as he did before, that he won't help them if harm comes to us," I persisted, unwilling to abandon this sheet anchor of hope.
"He may say that once too often," muttered George. "You must remember, too, that the man's walking the greasy pole himself, so to speak, and one slip sends him down into transportation for life; for I don't doubt but what they'd all get that after this attempted escape and making away with the coach."
As one or two of the convicts seemed to be eyeing us, we ceased our conversation with a forced laugh; and rising, I strolled over towards Lewis, who stood at the edge of the platform with arms folded, gazing towards the mouth of the cave. If not then low water, the tide could not long have turned, and the ledge seemed considerably higher above the sea than it had done when we had first landed from the boat.
"What's the matter?" I asked, seeing how the old sailor's heavy brows were contracted in thought.
"There's a good bit may be the matter, Master Eden, before this gang of lubbers steps ashore in France," he answered. "I've been as far as the mouth of the cave this morning in the boat, and I don't altogether like the look of the sea: there's a swell getting up which may mean wind behind it. If so, these blokes may find this cave as difficult a place to get out of as Welmington Jail."
Now that he called my attention to it, I noticed that there was certainly a constant ripple whispering down the length of the cave. The boat rocked gently at her mooring, and at the sight of her a sudden foreboding of evil entered my mind.
"You don't think it's going to be rough enough to wash us off this rock?" I asked anxiously.
"I doubt if that would happen unless it came on to blow a regular gale," he answered. "You see, the mouth of the cave is only a narrow opening, and, especially at high water, the seas would spend most of their force outside; still, as I've warned these men here, if once a big storm did get up, not a mother's son of them is ever likely to be heard of again. No," continued the speaker, "it's not being drowned I'm so much afraid of now as there being just enough sea running to prevent us getting out. These fools don't realize what a ticklish job it is except in still water. Let them try it in a stiff sou'-easterly breeze, and see how far they get! I'll wager my neck not one of them would ever set foot on shore again."
I stood gazing anxiously at that distant semicircle of light beyond which the sea was sparkling in the wintry sunshine. As I did so a fresh salt breeze swept through the cavern, and a miniature wave rolled up and spent itself against the mass of rock on which we stood. I was on the point of making some further remark to Lewis, when, in a sharp, peremptory manner, a voice behind us exclaimed,—
"Hark!"
The hum of conversation going on round the fire instantly ceased, while Lewis and I involuntarily turned sharp round to see who had spoken.
"Hist! D'ye hear anything?"
It was the blind man who spoke. His name was Mogger, and he sat a little apart from his companions, with his back against the rock wall of the cavern. From chance remarks let drop by the others, I gathered that he had been accustomed to beg for his bread with a dog, leading-string, and tin can. Associating with a set of rogues and vagabonds, he had at length become concerned in a robbery, and had been found guilty of receiving and concealing stolen goods. His loss of sight appeared to have been in a measure made up to him by an abnormally keen sense of hearing; in fact, the fellow's ears were as sensitive to sound as a dog's. Walking down the middle of a road, he declared that he could tell whenever he passed a house, or when he emerged from between two rows of buildings into the open country, and this simply by the change in the sound of his own footsteps. I mention this as giving additional interest to the incident which I am about to describe.
There was a moment of dead silence. The picture of that scene rises in my mind now as I write—the blind man sitting bolt upright against the rock with closed eyes, and his pale, expressionless face raised at an unusual angle, as though an unseen hand had gripped him beneath the chin; the group round the fire, for the instant rigid and alert, with heads half turned and mouths opened in the attitude of listening; while Rodwood's hand closed instinctively on a pistol which he had been cleaning, and had laid beside him on the rock. Thus, in the gloomy twilight of the cave we all remained motionless as the rock itself, until one of the men broke the spell with speech.
"What's the matter now?—more sheep?" he demanded gruffly, referring to the false alarm of the previous evening, at which several of his companions laughed.
The blind man made no reply, but remained in exactly the same attitude, like a person in a trance. On any occasion his conduct would have been disquieting and uncanny, but for hunted men there was something in it especially disturbing.
"Can't you answer, you dumb post?" cried Rodwood angrily. "If you hear anything, tell us what it is."
"It was a voice," answered Mogger. "I heard it, I'll swear; my ears never play me false."
"You heard a good many voices, I suppose, seeing that we was most of us talking," retorted one of his companions, with an uneasy catch in the blustering tone which he tried to assume.
"I know all your voices," was the reply. "This was strange, and seemed to come from a distance. Hark!"
The man held up a warning hand. In the death-like stillness which followed I strained my ears to catch the faintest whisper; but no sound reached them save the plash of the water and the heavy breathing of Lewis, who stood close at my side.
"Be hanged to you!" burst out Rodwood. "You'll cry 'wolf' so often that we shall pay no heed to real danger when it comes. What you heard was the seagulls crying.—Confound the man, he's enough to send a nervous old woman into a fit with his prick ears and bladder face!"
The blind man seemed too intent in listening for a repetition of the sounds which he believed he had heard to take much notice of this speech. The convicts joined in a rough jeer, but it was evident that they had not recovered from the shock of the alarm.
"The dog's given no sign," said Lewis presently, looking hard at his four-footed companion. "He'd be uneasy if there was strangers about.—Eh, Joey? Is the coast clear?"
The animal merely wagged its tail, and before the subject could be discussed any further the attention of the party was diverted to another matter.
"Here's something in the water!" exclaimed one of the convicts, who had wandered to the edge of the platform. "Looks like a cask of some sort. Come on, and help to fish it out."
"If I were you I'd leave it where it is," interposed Lewis; "it'll bring you no luck."
"Why?" demanded the fellow, who was already clambering down the ledges of rock to get to the boat.
"Because it's dead men's property," answered Lewis. "It belongs to the crew of this boat that's been wrecked. They'll be coming to claim it if you don't leave it alone."
"Rubbish!" retorted the man. "Keep your sailor yarns for a ship's fo'castle!—Hurray, boys! See here! Call me a Dutchman if it isn't a keg of smugglers' brandy; and there's another bobbing about just over yonder!"
The group by the fire scrambled hastily to their feet, and I heard Lewis mutter a curse. He must have known all along what the kegs which we had seen floating in the water as we entered the cave really contained, and have foreseen the consequences of their coming into the possession of his companions. As it was, he stepped quickly from my side, and I saw him talking in quick, eager tones to Rodwood.
It would have been as easy to wrest a carcass from a pack of starving wolves as to rob this band of criminals of their newly-found store of liquor.
"Steady, lads, steady!" was all their leader could say. "One sup all round, and then let it rest; we shall need clear heads until we're safe out of the wood."
The words might as well have been spoken to the winds. The two ankers were quickly dragged up on to the platform, and one of them was broached with the aid of George's knife. The metal cup from the coachman's flask and a small mug found in the locker of the boat afforded the means of conveying the fiery spirit to eager lips. From hand to hand it passed. Rodwood himself, after some protestation, took his share with the rest, and even Lewis could not for long withstand the temptation of the liquor which was almost forced upon him. Woodley, however, was naturally a sober fellow, and kept his senses. He took one sip at the mug when it was handed to him, to avoid rousing the convicts to a still further feeling of hostility, after which he and I edged away from the rest, and sat down at the farther end of the platform.
What followed during the course of the next few hours it would be difficult to describe. The rousing of the appetite which they had for so long been unable to gratify was like applying a light to a heap of straw. Forgetful of food or of their perilous position, the men tossed the ardent spirit down their throats, and passed the cup for more. In a very short time the effect of the drink began to make itself evident, the more so that for some time past the members of the band had been forced abstainers. Their faces flushed, their eyes brightened with a feverish light, while with loosened tongues they began to jabber like monkeys, laughing long and uproariously at their own coarse jokes, and raising their voices to a shout when the din made it no longer possible for them to be heard.
There was no talk now of limiting the allowance; even Rodwood himself was far too intoxicated to care, while Lewis seemed robbed of that instinct of caution which had been bred in him by the risks of his calling.
How long this orgy lasted I don't know, but it must have continued far into the afternoon. The tide rose, and with it the sea; the broken waves seemed to come jostling and elbowing each other through the entrance to the cave, and splashed heavily against the foot of our platform, sprinkling the unheeding revellers every now and again with a dash of salt water. If the revenue cutter or any small craft had passed close in to shore, the noise made by the fugitives must have betrayed their whereabouts, as in their drunken frenzy they danced and yelled like raving lunatics.
At length, quite suddenly it seemed to us, they were all fighting. How the quarrel first started it was impossible to discern; but it had not been in progress more than a few seconds when all the band were engaged in the conflict. In terror I crouched in the corner of the rock farthest removed from this scene of strife, expecting momentarily to receive some injury from this outburst of unreasoning fury. With clenched fists, and with logs of wood snatched from the ground, the maniacs struck at each other, or grappling fell, and were trodden on and stumbled over by the other combatants. Rodwood, fighting like an enraged lion, and striking out indiscriminately right and left, felled several antagonists, and was ultimately the means of putting an end to the mêlée, but not before one man had received some severe injury from a kick in the stomach, and another had been horribly burned about the face from falling, half stunned, into the fire. The groans of these wretches now mingled with the maudlin peacemaking of the other members of the band, as they rubbed their bruises and gathered once more round the brandy keg.
The fading light of the short winter day was deepening into darkness as the horrid scene continued.
"Hark'ee!" cried Rodwood, suddenly dashing the pewter cup to the ground: "I've no mind to spend another night in this foxes' burrow. Let us go back to the little port yonder and say we're what's left of a shipwrecked crew. I'll be bound good beds enough would be offered to such jolly mariners!"
A babel of voices followed this proposal. Some men were in favour, while others, perhaps a trifle more sober, were against the move.
"I'd like to see you pass yourselves off as sailor men," shouted Lewis with a wild laugh. "Besides, who's going to get the boat out with this swell on? She'll be bottom up before she's ten yards beyond the opening."
A fresh outburst of drunken argument drowned his further remarks, and it soon became evident that the more reckless spirits had carried the day. The remaining keg of brandy was handed down into the boat, and the men prepared to follow, the first to move falling under the thwarts, where he lay yelling that his arm was broken, while his comrades staggered over his prostrate form.
George Woodley and I rushed forward. Whatever the risk of the voyage might be, it was preferable to being left behind. But as we approached the group of men who were gathered at the head of the flight of rough steps, Rodwood waved us back.
"No room for you!" he cried with an oath. "No strangers or informers come with us now; we've got enough to do to save our own necks."
"Quite right, captain!" added another drunken scoundrel. "Why did they come with us at all? Let them bide there till they're fetched."
"For mercy's sake don't leave us here!" cried George. But a blow in the face, which sent him staggering backwards, was the only response. The blind man and the fellows who had been injured in the fight were handed down into the boat. One groaned heavily as he was moved, his complaints rising at last to a shriek which made my blood curdle.
"Lewis! Lewis!" I shouted in despair, "tell them to make room! We won't betray you!"
The smuggler heard my cry, and paused with his foot already on the first step of the descent.
"It's no good, Master Eden," he said, in a low, thick utterance. "If I put you in the boat they'll throw you out. You're all right—I'll tell Master Miles; or if not, you'll find it yourself if you look about. I'm the only one as knows—"
The words, which I regarded merely as the rambling nonsense spoken by a drunkard, were cut short by the speaker being forcibly dragged down into the boat, which an instant later shoved off from the platform.