Washed Ashore Part 3

"So should I," said Margery, and she sighed. She would like to have told him all about Jack, but he was as yet too great a stranger to her to allow her to speak to him on a subject which was to her almost sacred, so she said nothing; she did not even tell him that she had had a brother Jack, who had gone to sea and been lost.

Charley Blount soon became a great favourite of the inmates of the Tower, as also with most of the neighbours. His history seemed a sad one, and yet he was as merry and happy a fellow as ever lived. He had but few friends on whom he had any claim, and they were in India; the only one he had had in England, an aunt, was dead. She was the sister of his father--a maiden lady of true piety, who had indeed instructed him in the way he should go, and Charley Blount had not departed from it. This was the reason he was so merry and happy. His happiness was within himself. Captain Askew delighted in him. He seemed to him what his own boy would have been, and it was with inward satisfaction he heard that he had no friends in England to whom he could go.

"Then, Charley, you must make this old Tower your home, as long as you can keep off the salt water," he answered. "We are grave, old-fas.h.i.+oned people, but we'll do our best to make your stay with us pleasant."

Charley a.s.sured his friends that he knew when he was in good quarters, and that he should be in no hurry to go away. It naturally occurred to the captain that his young guest would like a companion occasionally, so he sent a note inviting Stephen Ludlow to come over and spend a day at the tower, hoping also that Mr Ludlow would invite Charley in return.

Margery was very anxious to see Stephen to thank him for his book, and to tell him how much she liked it. An idea had also occurred to her which she proposed broaching to him on the first opportunity.

Blind Peter was the general messenger as well as the purveyor of small wares in the neighbourhood, and as he happened to call that day, Becky took the captain's note down to him to carry.

"It's just to ask the young master at Ludlow to come over for a day,"

she observed, as she gave it to him.

"Then just, Becky, do you give him a hint not to wander away from the Tower while he is here, and tell him to go back by the way he went the last time, mind that," said Peter.

"I'll do as you tell me, Master Peter," answered Becky. "But what's in the wind that makes you say that? You know I am not a woman to go and prattle about other people's affairs, but I should just like to know, that I should, Master Peter."

Blind Peter turned his sightless...o...b.. towards Becky, while a smile played round his lips.

"I'll tell you what, Becky," he answered, "there's an old saying, that a secret is no longer a secret if it's in the keeping of more than one person; so, do ye see, I think as I've got it I'd better keep it. Not but what I own that you are a right sensible woman, Mistress Becky, and it's for your good as much as for my own that I don't tell it to you."

Becky was not satisfied, but she knew Peter of old, and that, as she said of him, "he was as close as wax, and if he was determined not to do a thing no mortal power could make him do it." She made up her mind to abide her time, in the hope that after all she might discover the secret. Blind Peter having received the note, set off on his journey, promising to deliver it either that night or the following morning.

Peter's reception at the hall was always very different to that at the tower, yet he did not refuse the crust of bread and mug of water offered to him at the former, but meekly took it, and went on his way with a thankful heart. On this occasion, having delivered the note at the hall, and finding that both Mr Ludlow and his son were out, he continued his journey. It was towards evening, as he was within a mile or so of the little public-house, near the coast, at which he intended to sleep, that he was overtaken by a man in a cart.

"Ah, Peter! is that you?" said the driver. "Just get in, and I'll put you and your dog and your wares down wherever you may wish to stop."

"Thank you for your offer, d.i.c.k Herring--for I know you by your voice,-- but my legs are well accustomed to carry me; and they'll do so as long as I need their services, I hope."

"Oh, nonsense, man; there's a storm brewing, and you'll be wet to the skin, if you keep to your legs; but just do you get in, and I'll whisk you along to your journey's end in no time," answered d.i.c.k Herring.

"That's kind of you, d.i.c.k, anyhow," said Peter; "but as to the storm, I don't feel as if one was coming, and I'm not often deceived."

"Just now you are, though, depend on't, mate. Come, step in, I want to do you a service, and it isn't the like of me that would do you a harm,"

said Herring, in a persuasive tone.

Peter, who was in reality very tired from his long walk, was glad to have a lift, and his doubts as to Herring's intentions, which from certain circ.u.mstances known to him he entertained, having been quieted, he stepped up to the cart to get in. In an instant he felt himself lifted up by strong arms, and placed on a seat next to another man who had not before spoken, and the cart drove on at a rapid rate.

In vain he begged that poor old Trusty might be lifted in with him.

"The dog has four legs, and can run as fast as the horse; we can't stop for him," said the man, in a gruff and feigned voice, though Peter thought that he recognised it as that of a notorious smuggler living not far off.

"I told you, Peter, that I'd whisk you along pretty quickly over the road, and I am doing so, you'll allow," observed Herring, in a tone which the blind man did not like, but he said nothing. He was, however, after some time, convinced that they had gone much farther than the two miles which he calculated would take him to the inn where he had proposed sleeping. He became aware, too, that the cart had altered its direction, by the feeling of the wind on his face. On they went at a rapid rate for some time, when Peter inquired why they were conveying him from the place to which he wished to go.

"We've a good reason, Master Peter," answered d.i.c.k Herring, in a still more disagreeable tone than before; "you know a thing or two more than you ought to know, and we intend to keep you out of harm's way for a day or two; and that's the fact, if it pleases you to know it."

Peter was aware that expostulation was useless, so he resigned himself to his fate, believing that Herring, though a daring smuggler and utterly lawless, would do him no personal harm. He felt the cart go up and down several rough places, and he was certain that it doubled several times, and had made a full circuit more than once. The object of the smugglers, it was evident, was to mislead him and to make him suppose that he had gone a long distance. He kept his own counsel, however, and in a short time the cart stopped, and he was told to get out. He called Trusty to come and lead him, but no Trusty came.

"The dog couldn't quite keep up with us, and maybe he has lost his way,"

said Herring. "But never do you mind, Peter, I'll lead you; here, take my arm."

Poor Peter did as he was directed, and then he found himself going up some very rough stone steps, and then he knew by the change of air that he had been led through a doorway into a room, and that there were people in it, though they did not speak; and then d.i.c.k led him into another room, and told him to sit down on a chair, and that he must make up his mind to remain there for some days to come, and that if he promised to be quiet and to behave well, he should be well treated.

Saying this, the smuggler walked out of the room, and bolted the door behind him.

Peter immediately got up and felt about the room. It contained, he ascertained, a low pallet bed, a table and a chair, and had a small lattice window, with a bar across it; but it was so small that even without the bar he could scarcely have got through it had he wished. He opened the window gently. He could hear the sough of the sea on the beach, far down below him. "I thought as much," he said to himself, "they have brought me to old Dame Herring's cottage, upon Eastdown Cliff. I was here as a boy more than once, and could find my way from it easy enough, if I had Trusty's help to keep me from any pits or holes dug of late. I know the reason why this has been done. They suspect that I know what I do know, and perhaps more, and they want to keep me out of the way till they have carried out their undertaking. However, they might have treated me worse; so I'll not complain, but try and take matters easily."

Saying this he took off his wallet and the knapsack which contained his wares, and threw himself at his length on the bed, intending to go to sleep. He had not lain there very long when the door opened and some person looked in, and placing something on the table retired again, bolting the door. In a short time several people came into the larger room, most of whom Peter knew by their heavy tread were men in large boots.

"Well! Mother Herring, do you promise us success in our venture, we've been waiting long enough for it?" said one of the new comers in a gruff voice.

"If you do as I bid you this time you will succeed," answered an old woman, whom by her cracked, harsh voice, Peter, even had she not been named, would at once have recognised. "But, as I before told you, if you want to make all secure, get hold of the son of old Ludlow. He dotes on the boy, and you would have the father in your power, if you could get hold of the son."

"So we should, long ago, if it hadn't been for blind Peter; howsomedever, we can keep him quiet for some time."

"I mind the time before the captain came to the Tower, the matter was much more easier than it now is," said an old man, whom Peter knew as a daring smuggler all his life. "That was a first-rate place, I believe you."

"Then why not get rid of the captain and his family?" croaked out old Mother Herring; "what business has he to come interfering with people's rights?"

"More easily said, Mother Herring, than done," exclaimed another of the party. "The captain is a tough old bird, not to be driven from his perch in a hurry."

"Ha! ha! ha! May be I'll put you up to a trick or two, my sons, that'll make the place too hot to hold him," croaked out the old woman. "Just you be guided by me, and all will go right, depend on that;" and she gave way to a fit of laughter which almost choked her.

Peter did not hear more of consequence just then, but he had heard enough to show him that the smugglers were prepared to run a cargo of contraband goods on the coast, and in case of failure they wished to get young Stephen Ludlow into their power, that they might make terms with his father. Had it not been for Peter, who had been long aware of their object, they might ere this have accomplished it, and he now guessed that they had discovered that it was owing to him that they had not hitherto succeeded. At length Peter, being very tired from his long walk, to sleep. He had a notion that the people in the next room were taking supper, and indulging in a carouse, of the materials for which their calling afforded them an ample supply.

The smugglers were drinking when Peter went to sleep, and when he again woke some were still at the table, and talking loudly and wildly, though others had, apparently overcome by the liquor, dropped off to sleep.

They spoke as men do when the wine is in their heads, without fear or caution. The wildest proposals were made to carry out their objects.

One man suggested that if they could get rid of their two princ.i.p.al opponents, Mr Ludlow and Captain Askew, they would have no one to interfere with them. The idea was taken up by others, who did not scruple to talk of murder; though, tipsy as they were, when they spoke of so awful a deed, they sank their voices so low that Peter did not clearly hear all they said. His ear, however, caught one or two ominous expressions, such as--"over the cliff," "sink him out at sea," "entice him from the house," "the sooner the better." These words convinced him that the speakers would not scruple to commit the most atrocious crime if they fancied it would advance their interests. They made him also very anxious to get away to warn those who were threatened of their danger.

But how to get away was the question. He might fancy that no one was observing him, and yet be watched the whole time. One thing he hoped was that Herring and his a.s.sociates, trusting to his blindness, fancied that he did not know where he had been carried to, and that he could not possibly get away. By degrees the speakers dropped off, and the loud snores which came from the room showed that the occupants were mostly asleep. He hoped that all might be so. Considering what he should do kept him broad awake. He had not remained so long, when his attention was drawn to a scratching under the window. The night was warm, and the lattice had been left open. He went to the window and put out his hand, and directly he did so he felt it licked by the tongue of his faithful Trusty. He put down his hand still further, and calling the animal by name, it leaped up and he was able to drag it in. Poor Trusty showed his delight at meeting his master by jumping up and licking his face and hands all over. "But can you help me out of this, good Trusty?" said Peter, whispering in the dog's ear.

Trusty, as if he understood the meaning, immediately went to the window, and leaped up on the sill.

"He thinks that I can get out," said Peter to himself. "He is seldom wrong--I will try." Suiting the action to the word, he put his head out between the bars. "Where my head can go my body can follow, but my body must go first just now."

After twisting his body a variety of ways, he worked his way between the bars, to which he held on while he lowered himself to the ground. The leading-string was still attached to Trusty's collar, and taking it in his hand, he said, "Go on, Trusty." Trusty, pulling hard, led the way, as if he was conscious that there was danger in delay, and Peter set off as fast as he could venture to move.

No sound came from the cottage, and he had every reason to hope that he should completely effect his escape. Trusty, that good sagacious dog, worthy of his name, pulled on as if he well knew that it was important to leave old Dame Herring's cottage far behind before daybreak. Peter decided on going first to the tower, that he might consult with the captain, to whom he knew he could speak as to a friend. Should he go to Mr Ludlow, he was afraid that the magistrate would perhaps immediately send off to Dame Herring's Cottage, and attempt to apprehend the whole body of smugglers. "If he does, what will be the advantage? None at all. I know what I heard, but I cannot swear to the voices of any one of them and they will all escape, and revenge themselves on me; not that I care for that if I can do others a service, but it's hard to suffer and do no good to any one."

The captain was an early riser. He had scarcely been a minute on foot when he heard blind Peter knocking at the door. Peter was admitted, and his story soon told. "I will consider what is to be done, and will give due warning to Mr Ludlow," answered the captain. "But one thing is certain, Peter, that you must lie by for a while, and take up your abode in the tower. The ruffians would treat you with little ceremony if they were to catch you as you were wandering about the country, but they would scarcely venture to molest you while you are here--indeed, there is no reason that they should know that you are here."

There was a small vacant room on the ground-floor of the Tower--into this the captain conducted Peter, and told him that he must consider himself a prisoner there till the smugglers were captured or driven out of the country, and it was safe for him again to go out by himself. He promised him, however, that he should not be without visitors, and that Margery and Charley Blount should come and read to him.

Captain Askew, having made these arrangements for the safety of the poor blind man, considered how he could warn Mr Ludlow of the danger threatening Charley Blount was the best messenger he could select. The hall was nine miles off, but Charley said that the distance was nothing, and that he would be there and back by dinner-time; so having received his instructions he set off, with a stout stick in his hand, in high spirits, observing that should the smugglers wish to stop him, they would have to run very fast before he was caught.

CHAPTER FIVE.

HOPES--THE SAILOR'S STORY--THE SMUGGLERS--GUESTS AT THE TOWER--GHOSTS.