Washed Ashore Part 5

"Out of this! out of this! out of this!" repeated the voice.

"That is no answer to my question," said Charley, undaunted, and peering into the darkness, in the direction from whence the voice appeared to proceed.

"Out of this! out of this! out of this!" said the voice.

"I say, you had better get out of this, or I'll be trying the thickness of your skull with my walking-stick."

There was a loud groan and a clanking of chains; a light flashed in Charley's eyes, and at the same moment he saw at the further end of the room, near the door, a tall figure in white. The instant he saw it the young sailor's shoe was flying across the room, and he following it with his stick in his hand; the ghost, if ghost it was, made a rapid spring through the doorway, and fled along the pa.s.sage. Charley, having no light, could not follow, so he returned to his room, and took his post behind the door, hoping that if the ghost should come back he might have the satisfaction of trying the strength of his stick on its head, supposing ghosts to have heads. In this case, at all events, it showed that it possessed some sense, as, though he waited till he was almost as cold as the ghost might be supposed to be, it never came back, so he picked up his thick shoes, and with them and his trusty stick by his side, ready for any emergency, got into bed again.

Meantime, Lieutenant Dugong had been sleeping soundly in a cot formerly used by the captain, which Tom had slung for him in the unused room. He was contentedly snoring away, when suddenly he felt a tremendous blow under his back, which almost sent him flying out of his cot, which immediately afterwards was violently shaken from side to side. "Hullo!

what's got hold of the s.h.i.+p now?" he cried out, only half awake.

"Steady, now! Steady! All comes from bad steering." However, directly afterwards awaking, he struck out right and left with his fists, hoping to catch those disturbing him.

A loud, hoa.r.s.e laugh followed, and the next moment a light flashed in the room, and a figure in white appeared before him, and he heard, amid rattling of chains and groans, the words, "Out of this! out of this! out of this!"

"Get out of this indeed! I'll see you at the bottom of the Red Sea first!" exclaimed the fat lieutenant, "I've done my duty; and so if you are a ghost I don't fear you; and if you are not, just wait a bit, and I'll give you such a drubbing that it will be a long time before you venture again to awake a naval officer out of his first sleep."

Whether or not the ghost understood this address it is difficult to say; but at all events, as the gallant officer began to get out of his cot, an operation he could not very rapidly perform, it vanished from his sight, so he drew in his stout legs again, rolled himself up, and under the impression that he was suffering from nightmare from having taken too much lobster at supper, was in two minutes fast asleep, to be awakened again in a minute by the loud report of a pistol, which made him start up and look about him in earnest, not to see anything, however, for it was nearly dark, as a faint glimmer of starlight alone came through the long, narrow, and only window in the room.

What befel the other inmates of the Tower on that memorable night must be narrated in another chapter.

CHAPTER SIX.

MR. LUDLOW DISTURBED--MAGGIE SCUTTLE AND BLIND PETER--MARGERY DISAPPEARS.

How the slumbers of several of the inmates of the old Tower of Stormount Bay were disturbed has already been described. The ghosts, if ghosts they were--for that may be doubted--were of a daring character, for they ventured to appear even to Mr Ludlow. He was awakened by a groan close to his head, a chain clanked, and a deep voice uttered the words, "Out of this! out of this! out of this!"

Though broad awake by this time he made no answer, but endeavoured to pierce through the gloom with his eyes to ascertain who was in the room.

A minute or more pa.s.sed by, and he also suspected that he had been dreaming; at the same time he quietly stretched out his hand to take hold of a pistol which he had placed on a chair by his bedside--a dangerous, and in most instances very useless practice. He kept his finger on the trigger, peering into the dark in the hope of seeing the person who was attempting, he suspected, to play off some trick on him.

His hand began to ache with holding the pistol in an uncomfortable position. Suddenly a bright light flashed in his face, and a voice groaned, "Out of this! out of this! out of this!" He pulled the trigger, aiming at the point whence the voice came, but the cap alone exploded, a hoa.r.s.e laugh at the same time bursting forth, when a fearful looking figure for an instant appeared, surrounded by a blue flame, and then again all was dark and silent.

Mr Ludlow was a man of nerve; springing from his bed he rushed towards the spot where he had seen the figure, but nearly fractured his head against the wall. He sprang to the other side, but only upset some articles of furniture which seemed to have been placed purposely in the way; and at length, after groping about for some time, he was glad to get back, utterly baffled, to his bed. He had no matches in the room, or he would have lighted a candle and gone in search of the disturbers of his slumbers. He could not go to sleep again very easily, so he lay wondering who could have played the trick. "Not Stephen, my own son,"

he thought, "but that other boy, Charley Blount; he seems up to anything. Still he would not have the audacity to come into my room and attempt to frighten me."

Thus thinking, he was dropping off to sleep when a deep groan awoke him--he listened, all was silent; he thought that he must be mistaken, but he tried to keep awake to listen, directing his eyes at the same time towards the door. Once more there was a groan, and directly afterwards, at a spot where a gleam of starlight came through the window, he caught a glimpse of a tall figure gliding across the room.

He fired at the instant; this time his pistol went off. There was a hoa.r.s.e laugh as before; but when he sprang up, hoping to seize his untimely visitor, the figure had disappeared, and he ran his head against the edge of the door which had been left open. So unusual a sound as the report of a pistol in a quiet household at midnight soon brought most of the inmates to his room. The captain came stumping down in a red nightcap and an old pea-coat; Tom had quickly slipped into a pair of trousers, and had a yellow handkerchief round his head; Becky appeared, her countenance ornamented with huge curlpapers, in a flannel petticoat and piece of chintz curtain over her shoulders; while the stout lieutenant, unable to find his garments in the dark, had groped his way up wrapped in a blanket, when coming suddenly in front of Becky, she shrieked out, "A ghost! a ghost! a ghost!" and ran off, nearly upsetting her master in her flight.

"Stop! stop! I'm not a ghost, my good woman," cried out the lieutenant; "I only wish that you would tell me where I could find any of the gentlemen, and I would break their heads for them, for not a wink of sleep have they allowed me for the last two hours."

The captain and Tom having brought lights, search was made throughout Mr Ludlow's room, and in the other rooms where the noises had been heard, but not a trace of any one having been in them could be discovered. Still, both the captain and magistrate were convinced that not only one person, but several, must have been in the house during the night for nearly two hours, and probably were still there, for the front and the side doors were closed, and no windows were found open by which they could have escaped. The lieutenant was rather more doubtful as to the character of their visitors, and Becky and Tom shook their heads and declared that they did not believe mere mortals could play such pranks, and get away without being discovered. "If my visitor was a ghost, we shall find the pistol bullet, but I rather suspect that the fellow withdrew it while I was asleep, or he would not have ventured to have remained in the room after he knew I had a fire-arm," acutely observed Mr Ludlow.

On examining the room, not a trace of a bullet could be discovered, though a piece of paper in which it had been wrapped was picked up unburnt. This confirmed the magistrate in the opinion that his surmise was correct, and it proved also the daring character of the people who had played the trick. How they had managed to get into the Tower was the question. The magistrate was puzzled, so was everybody else.

Neither the captain nor Tom, who knew the building better than anybody else, could solve the mystery. Charley, hearing their voices, came out of his room, and Stephen crawled out of his, still pale and trembling, and both had accounts to give of their ghostly visitant. Stephen gave the most dreadful account of the ghost he had seen, of the spiritual character of which he seemed to have no doubt. "Tut! boy, ghosts, if there were such things, would not spend their time in trying to shake a stout gentleman like myself out of his cot, in drawing bullets out of pistols, in using dark lanterns, and groaning and growling with the rough voices of boatswain's mates," exclaimed Lieutenant Dugong, with a look of contempt at poor Stephen. "The people who have been in here deal in spirits, I have no doubt, for they are smugglers, and pretty stupid ones too, if they fancy that by such mummeries they can frighten officers and gentlemen as we are."

"You don't mean to say, Mr Dugong, that those are not ghosts which we have been seeing to-night," exclaimed Stephen.

"I wish as how I thought they weren't," cried Becky, "for it's awful to think that the old Tower where we've lived so long in peace should be haunted."

"Fiddlestick, woman, with your haunted Tower!" said the magistrate, who was apt soon to lose his patience; "I suspect that you and your one-armed companion there, who looks as scared as if he had a real goblin at his heels, have been leaving some door or window open by which these ghosts, as you call them, have found an entrance, and if they have not got out by the same way they came in they must still be somewhere about the building, and you must be held responsible for any mischief they may commit--you hear me, sirrah!"

"Beg pardon, sir, and no offence, I do hear you," said Tom, stepping forward and giving a pull to his red nightcap, and a hitch to his wide trousers: "but I've served his Majesty--that's three on 'em and her Majesty, that's Queen Victoria--man and boy for better than forty years, afloat in all seas, and all climes, and never once have I been told that I wasn't attending to my duty, and doing the work I was set to do as well as I could. Now I know it's my duty to see that all the doors and windows are fast at night, not to keep out robbers, because we've no reason to fear such gentry down here, but to prevent Mister Wind from making an entrance, and I say it, and again I begs pardon, I did close the doors and windows as securely as I ever did in my life."

"Oh! very well, very well, my good man, I do not doubt your honest intentions, but a.s.sertions are not proofs; if you were to set about it, and find the ghost, I should be better pleased," said the magistrate.

"I really think, Mr Ludlow, that you are somewhat hard upon Tom,"

interposed Captain Askew; "I can answer for his doing his best to find the ghost if he is to be found, and if not I will leave him in charge of the deck while we turn in again; and you may depend on it no ghost will dare to show his nose while he is on duty."

This proposal was agreed to, and, as after a further search no trace of the nocturnal visitors was discovered, the family once more retired to rest, and Tom, with Mr Ludlow's pistols in his belt, and a thick stick in his hand, kept watch--walking up and down the pa.s.sages, and into all the empty rooms, and should he see anything he was immediately to call the captain and the rest of the gentlemen. Once, as he was walking slowly along a pa.s.sage on the bas.e.m.e.nt story, he saw on the ceiling a faint gleam of light, as if it had been cast from somewhere below, but as he proceeded it vanished, and though he looked about carefully he could not discover the spot whence it had come. He however noted it, that he might prosecute his examination in the morning. He was walking on, when a deep groan came from almost beneath his feet, as it seemed.

Tom was not altogether free from superst.i.tion, but though he did not disbelieve in ghosts and other foolish notions, he was too brave to be frightened by anything, and consequently cool and capable of reflection.

"Ho! ho!" he thought, "if that was a ghost which groaned, he has got a light to light himself about with anyhow; and he must be stowed away in some hollow hereabouts, under the floor or in the wall, and there he shall remain till morning light if he doesn't want a broken head or an ounce of lead sent through his body." So he posted himself in the pa.s.sage to watch the place whence the sound had come. After waiting for some time he took a short turn, when directly his footsteps sounded along the pa.s.sage there was another groan. "Ho! ho! old mate," he muttered, not aware that Hamlet had used the expression before him; "groan away as much as you like, you'll find it a tough job to work your way through the hard rock, I suspect, and I'm not going to let you frighten me away from my post, let me tell you; the pistol has got a bullet in it this time, understand."

The ghost evidently considered discretion the best part of valour, for after this not a groan or any other sound was heard. Tom watched all the night, hoping that somebody or something might appear, that he might get a shot at it; but not even a mouse crept out of its hole, nor were the inmates of the Tower again disturbed. Everybody was on foot at an early hour, and the old Tower was thoroughly examined inside and out, but no possible way by which the visitors could have entered could be discovered.

Tom's account of his having seen a light and heard a groan was disbelieved; it was thought that his imagination had deceived him.

"Maybe it did," muttered Tom to himself, "howsomdever, I'll keep a bright look-out thereabouts, and I've a notion that some day I'll catch the mole coming out of his hole."

The next day the inspecting commander of the coastguard, and another magistrate and two more lieutenants arrived, and a grand consultation was held. Plans were resolved on by which it was hoped that the smugglers would be completely put down. It did not occur to them, possibly, that while the temptation to smuggling was so great that would be a very difficult matter.

Margery had never seen so many people at the lower before, but she acted with as much propriety as if she were every day accustomed to receive guests.

It was supposed at length that the anger of the smugglers against Blind Peter would have pa.s.sed away; and at all events, as he could not for ever be kept a prisoner, he begged that he might be allowed to go out again with his faithful dog Trusty. "There is One watches over me and takes care of me, and He has sent that good dog and given him sense to guide my steps, and so I trust in Him and do not fear what can happen to me," he observed, when one morning, not without Captain and Mrs Askew feeling some misgivings, he went forth from the Tower. He had, as usual, his pack on his back and his staff in his hand, as he wound his way down the hill to the hamlet on the seash.o.r.e. As it was not his custom to tell the people whence he had last come, they, naturally supposing that he had been at a distance, asked him if he had heard of the awful doings up at the Tower since he had last been there? "What are they, Maggy Scuttle?" he inquired of the old woman who asked the question.

"Terrible! Peter, terrible!" she answered, shaking her head; "not but what the captain is a good man, and a charitable man, and a kind man; that I'll allow. He comes down here and reads to us out of a book, and preaches to us, and talks to us about our souls; but do all he can, he can't keep the devil out of his house. It's haunted; no doubt about that. They say that ghosts and hobgoblins, and all sorts of bad spirits go wandering up and down night after night, and won't let the people in the Tower sleep. It's believed that the captain is so vexed that he'll give up the Tower and go away, and 'twill then soon turn back into the ruin it was when he came to it."

"I hope not," said Peter, "he's a good customer of mine and a good neighbour to you, and so we shall both be the losers; and as for the ghosts, he's not a man to be frightened by such nonsense. I don't believe in ghosts, and I'll tell you why--I couldn't see them in the first place; I couldn't feel them, because they are spirits; and if they are spirits, I couldn't hear them, because, do ye see, spirits haven't got the power of speaking; they've no throat nor lungs, nor tongue, nor lips. I've thought of these things as I go along on my solitary way with my good dog Trusty to guide me, for there is nothing to draw off my thoughts such as those who can see have, by what is pa.s.sing around. My idea is this--that G.o.d made everything in order, and keeps everything that He alone has to do with in order--though He leaves man free to do what he likes--be it good or evil. Now G.o.d alone can have to do with spirits or ghosts, and I'm very sure that He wouldn't let them play the pranks and foolish tricks all the ghosts or spirits or hobgoblins, and such like things I've ever heard of, are said to have played. I've never yet met a man who has seen a ghost; and what's more, I'm very certain that I never shall."

"What do the people up at the Tower say to the ghosts, which have been appearing there night after night I'm told?" asked d.i.c.k Herring, who had the moment before walked into old dame Scuttle's, but unseen by Peter.

"They say, Master Herring, that the ghosts are clever ghosts to get into the Tower as they did; but they are not so clever as they fancy themselves, and that if they don't look sharp they'll be trapped one of these days. You've seen a mole-trap, Master Herring, such as the farmers use--when the mole is caught the end of the stick flies up with him, and there he hangs dangling in the air. Perhaps your ghosts wouldn't approve of a fate like that!"

"I don't see what you're driving at, Master Peter," answered d.i.c.k Herring, in a growling, displeased tone; "but I'll tell you what, those who know more than they ought to know are likely to come to grief some day."

"Maybe, d.i.c.k, if they make a bad use of what they know," said the blind man, turning his face towards the smuggler; "and I have something to tell you--there is One who watches over the poor blind man, who puts his trust in Him; and He is able to keep him from all harm."

"That's what you say, Master Peter, you'll have to prove it some day, maybe," growled out the smuggler, anxious, however, to change the subject of conversation.

"I have proved it," answered Peter, with a firm voice; "and now good-bye, d.i.c.k, I must be round and see who wants anything from my pack."

And the blind man went fearlessly on his way, showing that the confidence he spoke of in G.o.d's protecting providence was real, and not a.s.sumed.

The subject of the ghosts had by this time pretty well been dropped by the inmates of the Tower, although it was still a matter of wonder how they, or rather the people who acted them, could have got inside.

Stephen had come over again to see them, attended by a groom, for he was not allowed to ride about by himself. He said that he must go back early; indeed, it was clear that nothing would tempt him to spend a night in the Tower--and he wondered how Charley Blount could venture to sleep on by himself after the dreadful sights he had seen. "I never have found that sights or sounds could do a man any harm, and so I do not mind them any more than the Scotch Quaker, who, when a fellow was one day abusing him, observed quietly, 'Say what ye like, friend, with your tongue, but dinna touch me.' If the ghost had come with a dagger, or pistol, or bowl of poison, I should have had good reason for wis.h.i.+ng him to keep his distance."

"Oh! Charley, you are so fool-hardy," drawled out Stephen; "I, for my part, don't see any fun in trifling with such serious matters."

Charley Blount burst out into a hearty fit of laughter. "Why, Stephen, I thought from what I have heard, that you were more of a man than to believe in such nonsense," he exclaimed.