Kilgorman Part 42

"That wall do. Mrs Shannon, I beg you will send over a man at once to Knockowen and let his honour know how matters stand. I will ride to Five Fingers and see if anything is to be done or learned. What sort of girl is the maid?"

"A soft creature enough. She and this Martin have been courting a year past."

With a groan of despair I followed the butler to the yard, and bridled the unwieldy beast I found there.

"It's a fool's errand you are on," said the old retainer; "but maybe you'll have the luck to come within arm's-length of that blackguard Martin. I always doubted him. Are you armed?"

"I have a pistol."

"Take yonder old sword," said he, pointing to a rusty weapon suspended on the stable wall. "It has seen service before now."

Thus mounted and accoutred, I dug my heels into the flanks of the great horse, and, in the breaking dawn, made along the rocky track which the butler had pointed out as leading to Five Fingers.

"If nothing can be done," said I, as I left, "I will return here."

"Dear send we shall see you no more then," said the old man.

Along the road which led from Malin village to the promontory rapid progress was impossible, and but that I hoped to have better use for my horse later on, I could almost have gone as well on foot.

As the early May dawn lifted, I could get glimpses of the sea lying calm on my left, with a light breeze off the land stirring its surface.

"That is in favour of the Dutchman," groaned I.

Not a human being, scarcely a wayside hut, did I see during that tedious ride, as my lumbering beast stumbled over the loose stones and plashed his way, fetlock deep, through the bog. At length I came to the place which the butler had described as the spot where I was to turn off the road and make by a gra.s.s track for the sea-level.

A short way down this latter path brought me to a corner which opened a sudden view of the sea to northward. Gazing eagerly in that direction, the first sight which met my eyes was a brig, with all sails set, standing out to sea before the wind, about a mile or two from the sh.o.r.e.

Too late! I had expected nothing else, but the certainty of it now drove me into a frenzy of wrath. I flung myself from the horse and strode, pistol in hand, towards the deserted sh.o.r.e. There, except for hoof-marks, which convinced me three horses had pa.s.sed that way, there was no sign of living being. By the tracks I could almost fix the spot at which the party had put off, doubtless in one of the brig's boats.

Of the return track of the horses I could find nothing, and judged that they had been taken off either at the edge of the water, which the tide had subsequently covered, or up one of the hard rocky tracks towards the foreland.

Along one of these, which seemed the most likely, I went for some distance. It brought me out on to the cliff-top, but disclosed no trace of what I sought.

I took my red scarf, and fixing it on the end of the sword, waved it defiantly at the receding s.h.i.+p. Whether it was seen or not, or whether, if seen, it was understood by those who alone would be likely to understand it, I could not say.

I was about to return to Malin when a thin curl of smoke from behind a rock advised me that there was at least one human habitation within reach, where it might be possible to get information. It was a wretched mud hovel backing on to the rock--its roof of sods being held at the corners by stones--and boasting no window, only the door out of which the smoke was pouring.

An old man, with the stump of a clay pipe in his lips, was turning his pig out to gra.s.s as I approached. He looked at me suspiciously, and went on without replying to my salutation.

"Good-morrow, father," said I. "You've had a s.h.i.+p in overnight, I see."

"Like enough," replied he in Irish. "Thrt--thrt!" and he gave the pig a switch.

"Was she English?" I asked.

"'Deed I know nothing of her," said he with a cunning look which convinced me he was lying.

"What does she carry?" I continued, playing with the b.u.t.t of the pistol in my belt.

He was quick enough to notice this gentle hint.

"Bad luck to the s.h.i.+p!" said he; "she's no concern of mine. What are you looking for? The trade brings me no good."

"Hark here," said I, pulling the weapon from my belt and balancing it on my fingers. "I'm no custom-house runner. Your cabin may be full, as it probably is, of rum or bitters for all I care," here he gave a wince of relief. "I want to know what yonder brig carried off, not what she left ash.o.r.e."

"Sure, I thought your honour was from the police," said the man with a leer.

"Tell me," said I, "who went off in the s.h.i.+p's boat early this morning."

"Three just--a man and two females."

"Did you know any of them?"

"Maybe I did, maybe no. One of the ladies was maid to Mistress Shannon, away at Malin."

"And the man?"

"He's the boy that's courting that same maid, and comes from Knockowen."

"And the other lady?"

"I never saw her before; but I'm thinking she was a rale lady."

"Who rowed them out to the s.h.i.+p?"

"Some of the crew, by the lingo they talked."

"Did they leave the horses?"

"They did. It was me took them and turned them back over the hill.

They'll find their ways home."

"What is the s.h.i.+p's name?"

"That I can't say, except that she was Dutch."

"How long had she been lying off here?"

"Since yesterday morning just."

"What was her cargo?"

"Sure, your honour said that was no matter at all."

"Was it Dutch goods?"

"It was; and if you'll wait here I'll fetch a drop of it to you," said he nervously.

"Stay where you are," said I. "Tell me, who is there can say what the s.h.i.+p's name is and where bound?"