Author: George Manville Fenn
Category: Nonfiction
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CHAPTER TWELVE.
Left alone in the boat, Tom Bodger sat down on one of the thwarts withhis wooden pegs stuck straight out before him. Then he brought themclose together with a sharp rap and began to rub one over the othergently; but these movements had nothing to do with the thinking, thoughhe more than once told himself that he thought better when he wasrubbing his legs together.
As he sat there he naturally enough began to watch the man-o'-war boatwith her smart young officer and neat, trim-looking crew, while,continuing his inspection, he ran his eyes over the boat and admired itsbeautiful lines.
This brought up memories of the time when career and body had both beencut short by that unlucky cannon ball, leaving him a cripple and apensioner.
"But I dunno," he said to himself, in a way he had of making the best ofthings, "if I hadn't been hit I might ha' lived on and been drowned, andthen there'd ha' been no pension to enj'y as I enj'ys mine; and I don'tnever have to buy no boots nor shoes, so there arn't much to grumbleabout, arter all."
So Tom sat rubbing his wooden legs together, watching the sailors in theboat, thinking of how he'd been coxswain of just such a boat as that,and then beginning to feel an intense longing to compare notes with themen left with the middy in charge; but the young officer kept his men inorder, and twice over had them busily at work stowing away thevegetables, fresh meat, bacon, and butter that were brought down fromtime to time and packed well out of the way fore and aft.
Consequently there was no opportunity allowed for him to get up agossip, the young officer looking fiercely important, and the men makingno advance.
"Beautifully clean and smart," said Tom. "Wonder how long MasterAleck'll be."
Then he swept the edge of the pier ten feet above his head in search ofinimical boys, letting one hand down by his side to finger his cudgel,and indulging in a chuckle at the skilful way in which he had broughtdown the young offender a short time before.
"Pretty well scared him away," said Tom to himself; "he won't showhimself here again to-day."
But as it happened Tom was wrong, for the boy, after landing in safety,with the water streaming down inside his ragged breeches and escaping atthe bottom of the legs when it did not slip out of the holes itencountered on its way, had made his way up the steep cliff and round tothe back of the town so as to get up on the moorland, where the sun camedown hotly, when he began to drip and dry rapidly.
He could sweep the pier and harbour now easily, looking over thefishing-boats and watching those belonging to the man-o'-war and AleckDonne, with Tom Bodger sitting with his legs sticking straight out.
And then he called Tom Bodger a very seaside salt and wicked name, inaddition to making a vow of what he would do to "sarve him out."
The boy gave another glance round as if in search of coadjutors, but allhis comrades had disappeared; so he stood thinking and drying as heturned his thoughts inland, with the result that he had a happy thought,under whose inspiration he set off at a trot round by the back of thelittle town till he came within view of a group of patches of sandy landroughly fenced in and divided by posts of wreck-wood and rails coveredwith pitch--rough fragments that had once been boat planks.
He ran a little faster now, and externally did not seem wet, for hishair was cropped so short that no water could find a lodgment, and hisworn-old, knitted blue shirt and cloth breeches had ceased to show themoisture they had soaked up.
Once within hearing of the rough fenced-in gardens he put both hands tohis mouth and uttered a frightful yell, with the result that a headsuddenly shot up from behind one of the fences, and its owner was seendown to the waist, looking as if he were leaning upon an old musket.
But this was only the handle of a hoe, and the holder proved to be BigJem, occupied in his father's garden, where he had been hoeing andearthing up potatoes in lazy-boy fashion with a chip-chop and a longthink, supplemented by a rest at the end of each row to chew tobacco.
A minute later and the boys were lying down side by side, resting upontheir elbows and kicking up their heels over their backs, what time thenewcomer related what had passed down on the pier, and also what heshould like to do.
The narrative seemed to afford Big Jem intense satisfaction, for heuttered a hoarse crowing laugh from time to time and blinked his eyes,squeezing the lids very close and then opening them wide, when sundrysigns of black, green and blue bruises became visible.
When the newcomer had finished his narration, Big Jem crowed morehoarsely than ever, and indulged in what looked like an imitation of anexpiring fish, for he stretched himself out flat and threw himself overfrom his face on to his back, beat the ground with his closed legs, andthen flopped back again, over and over again, putting ten times thevigour and exertion into his acts that he had bestowed upon the hoeing,and ending by springing up, stooping to secure his hoe, and then tossingit right away to fall and lie hidden in one of the newly-hoed furrowsbetween the potatoes.
"Do, won't it?" cried the new arrival.
"Yes," cried Big Jem, hoarsely. "Sarve 'em both out. Come on!"
No time was lost, the two boys going off at a trot round by the back ofthe town and aiming for the shore, where by descending a very steep bitof ivy-draped and ragwort-dotted cliff they could get down to a row ofblack sheds used for fish-drying and the storage of nets, which laysnugly upon a shelf of the cliff.
The place was quite deserted as the boys let themselves slide down awater-formed gully, peered about a bit, and then made for one of severalboats moored some fifty yards from the sandy shore.
More or less salt water was nothing to the Rockabie boys, and after aglance along the shore, followed by a sweeping of the pier, which ranout between them and the harbour, they waded a little way out till thewater reached their chests, and then began to swim for the outermostboat, into which Big Jem climbed, to hold out a hand, and the nextmoment his comrade had followed and leaned over, dripping away, to castloose the rope attached to the buoy, while Big Jem put an oar out overthe stern and began to scull.
"Ibney allus leaves one oar in his boat," said Jem, sculling away.
"But we mustn't go yet."
"You hold your mouth," said Big Jem. "I'll show you. You shall seewhat you shall see. Here, lay hold of the rope and make a hitch roundthat killick. See?"
The other boy evidently did see, for he knelt down and began to edge abig oval boulder stone from where it lay in company with three more forballast amidship, worked it right forward into the bows, and then liftedit on to the locker, when he took hold of the boat's painter at the endfurthest from the ring-bolt, to which it was secured, and fastened thehempen cord round the boulder with a nautical knot.
By the time this was done and the boy looked round for orders he caughtsight of something moving at the shore end of the pier.
"Here comes the sailors back to their boat," he said. "They'll see us."
"Over with the killick, then--easy. Don't splash."
Big Jem drew in his oar, with which he had been making the boat progressby means of a fishtail movement, laid it along the thwarts, and then, asthe other boy lifted the stone over the bows into the water, which itkissed without disturbance, it was let go and sank with a wavy movement,sending up a long train of glittering bubbles, running the rope out fasttill bottom was reached and the boat swung from its stone anchor.
"Now, then, down with you," said Big Jem, and the next minute the twoboys lay in the bottom, each with a great boulder for pillow, quite outof sight, unless their presence had been suspected, when a bit of coarseblue-covered body might have been seen, but then only to be taken forsome idle fisher making up for last night's fishing with a nap.
Hence it was that when Tom Bodger swept the pier from where he sat inAleck's boat lying by the steps in the harbour, he saw nothing but thetop of the pier, and his eyes fell again upon the sloop's beautifullyclean boat, which he again compared with the one he occupied, with suchunfavourable effect to the latter that he muttered to himself a little,took
off his jacket, rolled up his sleeves over his tattooed arms, andwent in for a general clean up.
Tom was as busy as a bee and, to judge from the latter's usuallycontented hum, just as much satisfied, for his efforts certainly vastlyimproved the aspect of Aleck's boat; and he was still hard at workswabbing and drying and laying ropes in coils, when a remark from one ofthe sailors in the adjacent boat made the midshipman spring up out of adoze in the hot sunshine and give the order to "Be smart!"
In other words, to be ready to help their messmates returning with theirofficer, well laden with fresh stores, which soon after were handed downinto the boat and stowed. Then the men took their places again, whilethe officers took theirs, the order was given to cast off, there was athrust or two given by the coxswain, and the boat glided from the steps,leaving Tom Bodger watching the movements, smiling, and thinking of thepast.
He smiled again as the oars were poised for a minute and then at a worddropped to starboard and larboard with a splash before beginning to dipwith rhythmic regularity, the midshipman seizing the lines and steeringher for her run outward to the sloop.
"Well," said the midshipman, in a low voice, "what luck?"
"Pretty good," was the reply. "Not all I should like, but I've seenenough to say that we ought to get a dozen smart fellows easily.There's some game or another on I hear from a man I know--a sort ofmeeting of fellows from along the coast--and Brown picked up a hint ortwo."
"A meeting, sir?"
"Well, call it what you like. Brown thinks there's a cargo to be runsomewhere and that the men are here to make arrangements for getting itinland."
"What, right under our noses?" said the midshipman.
"Of course; that's a far better way than right under our eyes, my lad.Give way, lads. I want to get aboard, Mr Wrighton, to hear what thecaptain and the lieutenant of the cutter have to say."
The sloop's boat passed out between the two arms of the little harbourbefore Tom Bodger recommenced his polishing up in Aleck's boat.
"A pretty cutter," he said. "There arn't anything better worth lookingat afloat than a man-o'-war's launch or cutter well manned by a smartcrew. Makes me wish I'd got my understandings again and was an AB oncemore. Not as I grumbles--not me. Rockabie arn't amiss, and things hasto be as they is. Here, let's get all ship-shape afore Master Aleckcomes. Wish I'd got a bit o' sand here to give them ring-bolts a rub ortwo. I like to see his boat look a bit smart.
"Wonder what them two's come in for--they arn't lying off here fornothing! Some 'un's been sending 'em word there's a cargo going to berun along the shore, and so they've come in for soft tack andwegetables. Haw! haw! haw!" he laughed, as he bent over his work."It's well I know that game. Fresh wegetables for the cook, a lookround to find out what's what, and as soon as it's dark a couple o'well-armed boats to beat up the quarters and a dozen or so o' menpressed. I know. Well, I s'pose it's right; the King must have men tofight his battles. They ought to volunteer; but some on 'em won't.They don't like going until they're obliged, and then they do, andwouldn't come back on no account. Strikes me there's going to be alanding to-night. Some un must ha' let 'em know. Wonder who could doit, for there's a bit o' fun coming off to-night, I lay my legs. EbenMegg wouldn't be here for nothing, and there's half a dozen more hangingabout.
"Well," he added, after a pause. "I'm not going to tell tales abouteither side. Don't know much, and what I do know I'm going to keep tomyself. Smuggling arn't right; no more arn't playing spy and informer--so I stands upon my wooden pegs and looks on. They won't take me.Wouldn't mind, though, if they did. There, that looks quite decent andtidy, that does, and if Master Aleck don't say a word o' praise, why Isay it's a shame. Well done; just finished in time. Here you are,then, my lad. Got a load? Why didn't yer let me come and carry it?Hold hard a minute, and I'll fetch it aboard."
For Tom Bodger had heard a step on the pier right above him as hestooped and saw the shadow of him who had made the sound cast right downupon the thwart and flooring of the boat, the maker of the shadow beingevidently the bearer of some oblong object, which he carried at arm'slength above his head.
Tom was balancing himself upon his wooden legs, and in the attitude ofrising from his bent-down position, when he was conscious of a faintsound and an alteration in the shadow cast down, while the next instantthere was a tremendous crash.