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Cutlass and Cudgel

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<h3>Chapter Sixteen.</h3> Always the same answer. No, they hadn’t seen no sailor lad in a red cap, only their own boys, and they were all at home. Had he lost one? Yes; a boy had come ashore and not returned. The different men questioned chuckled, and one oracular-looking old fellow spat, wiped his lips on the back of his hand, stared out to sea, and said gruffly,— “Runned away.” “Ay,” said another, “that’s it. You won’t see him again.” “Won’t I?” muttered Gurr between his teeth. “I’ll let some of you see about that, my fine fellows.” He led his men on, stopping at each cluster of cottages and shabby little farm to ask suspiciously, as if he felt certain the person he questioned was hiding the truth. But he always came out again to his men with an anxious look in his eyes, and generally ranged up alongside of Dick. “No, my lad,” he would say, “they haven’t seen ’im there;” and then with his head bent down, but his eyes eagerly searching the road from side to side, he went on towards Shackle’s farm. “Say, Mester Gurr,” said Dick, after one of these searches, “he wouldn’t run away?” “What! Mr Raystoke, sir? Don’t be a fool.” “No, sir,” replied Dick humbly, and the men tramped on with a couple of open-mouthed, barefooted boys following them to stare at their cutlasses and pistols. “Say, Mester Gurr,” ventured Dick, after a pause, “none of ’em wouldn’t ha’ done that, would they?” Dick had followed the master’s look, as he shaded his eyes and stared over the green slope which led up to the cliffs. “What?” “Chucked him off yonder.” Gurr glanced round to see if the men were looking, and then said rather huskily but kindly,— “In ord’nary, Dick, my lad, no; but when smugglers finds themselves up in corners where they can’t get away, they turns and fights like rats, and when they fights they bites.” “Ah!” ejaculated Dick sadly. “You’re only a common sailor, Dick, and I’m your officer, but though I speak sharp unto you, I respect you, Dick, for you like that lad.” “Say, Mester Gurr, sir, which thankful I am to you for speaking so; but you don’t really think as he has come to harm?” “I hope not, Dick; I hope not; but smugglers don’t stand at anything sometimes.” Dick sighed, and then all at once he spat in his fist, rubbed his hands together and clenched them, a hard, fierce aspect coming into his rough dark face, which seemed to promise severe retaliation if anything had happened to the young officer. There was nowhere else to search as far as Gurr could see, save the little farm in the hollow, and the black-looking stone house up on the hill among the trees. Gurr, who looked wonderfully bull-dog like in aspect, made straight for the farm, where the first person he encountered was Mrs Shackle, who, innocent enough, poor woman, came to the door to bob a curtsey to the king’s men, while Jemmy Dadd, who was slowly loading a tumbril in whose shafts was the sleepy grey horse, stuck his fork down into the heap of manure from the cow-sheds, rested his hands on the top and his chin upon his hands, to stare and grin at the sailors he recognised. “Morning, marm,” said Gurr; “sorry to trouble you, but—” “Oh, sir,” interrupted Mrs Shackle, “surely you are not going to tumble over my house again! I do assure you there’s nothing here but what you may see.” “If you’d let me finish, you’d know,” said Gurr gruffly. “One of our boys is missing. Seen him up here? Boy ’bout seventeen with a red cap.” “No, sir; indeed I’ve not.” “Don’t know as he has been seen about here, do you?” said Gurr, looking at her searchingly. “No, sir.” “Haven’t heard any one talking about him, eh? Come ashore yesterday.” Mrs Shackle shook her head. “Thank ye!—No, Dick,” continued the master, turning back to where the men were waiting, and unconsciously brushing against the bush behind which the middy had hidden himself, “that woman knows nothing. If she knew evil had come to the poor lad, her face would tell tales like print. Hi! You, sir,” he said, going towards where Jemmy stood grinning. “Mornin’,” said Jemmy; “come arter some more milk?” “No,” growled Gurr. “Don’t want to take the cow away agen, do ’ee?” “Look here, my lad, one of our boys is missing. Came ashore yesterday, lad of seventeen in a red cap.” “Oh!” said Jemmy with a vacant look. “Don’t mean him as come with you, do you?” “I said a lad ’bout seventeen, in a red cap like yours,” said Gurr very shortly. “Aren’t seen no lads with no red caps up here,” said the man with a vacant look. “Have he runned away?” “Are you sure you haven’t seen him, my lad?” growled Gurr; “because, look here, it may be a serious thing for some of you, if he is not found.” The man shook his head, and stared as if he didn’t half understand the drift of what was said. Gurr turned angrily away, and to find himself facing Dick. “Well, seen anything suspicious?” “No, sir,” said Dick, “on’y my fingers is a itchin’.” “Scratch them then.” “Nay, you don’t understand,” grumbled Dick. “I mean to have a turn at that chap, Master Gurr, sir. I feel as if I had him for ’bout quarter hour I could knock something out of him.” “Nonsense! Come along. Now, my lads, forward!” Jemmy Dadd’s countenance changed from its vacant aspect to one full of cunning, as the party from the cutter moved off, but it became dull and semi-idiotic again, for Gurr turned sharply round. “Here, my lad, where’s your master?” “Eh?” “I say, where’s your master?” “Aren’t in; mebbe he’s out in the fields.” Gurr turned away impatiently again, and signing to his men to follow, they all began to tramp up the steep track leading toward the Hoze, with the rabbits scuttling away among the furze, and showing their white cottony tails for a moment as they darted down into their holes. Dick followed last, shaking his head, and looking very much dissatisfied, or kept on looking back at Jemmy, who stood like a statue, resting his chin upon the shaft of his pitchfork, watching him go away. “I dunno,” muttered Dick, “and a man can’t be sure. There was nowt to see and nowt to hear, and of course one couldn’t smell it, but seems to me as that ugly-looking fisherman chap knows where our Mr Raystoke is. Yah, I hates half-bred uns! If a man’s a labourer, let him be a labourer; and if he’s a fisherman, let him be a fisherman. Man can’t be two things, and it looks queer.” An argument which did not have much force when self-applied, for Dick suddenly recollected that he was very skilful with the scissors, and knew that he was the regular barber of the crew, and as this came to his mind he took off his cap and gave his head a vicious scratch. “Never mind the rabbits, lads,” cried Gurr angrily; “we want to find Mr Raystoke.” The men closed up together, and mastered their desire to go hunting, to make a change from the salt beef and pork fare, and soon after they came suddenly upon Sir Risdon and his lady, the latter, who looked weak and ill, leaning on her husband’s arm. Gurr saluted, and stated his business, while the baronet, who had turned sallower and more careworn than his lot drew a breath full of relief. “One of your ship boys?” he said. “A lad, looking like a common sailor, and wearing a red cap.” “No,” said Sir Risdon. “I have seen no one answering to the description here.” “Beg pardon, sir, but can you, as a gentleman, assure me that he is not here?” “Certainly,” said Sir Risdon. “You have seen no one?” he continued, turning to Lady Graeme. The lady shook her head. “That’s enough, sir; but may I ask you, if you do see or hear anything of such a lad, you will send a messenger off to the cutter?” “It is hardly right to enlist me in the search for one of your deserters,” said Sir Risdon coldly. “Yes, sir, but he is not a deserter; and the fact is, we are afraid the lad has run alongside o’ the smugglers, and come to grief.” “Surely!” cried Sir Risdon excitedly. “No, no,—you must be mistaken. A boyish prank. No one about here would injure a boy.” “Humph!” ejaculated Gurr, looking at the baronet searchingly. “Glad you think so well of ’em, sir. But I suppose you’ll grant that the people about here would not be above a bit of smuggling?” Sir Risdon was silent. “And would run a cargo of brandy or silk?” “I suppose there is a good deal of smuggling on the coast,” said Sir Risdon coldly, as he thought of his vault. “Yes sir, there is, and it will go hard with the people who are caught having any dealings with the smugglers.” Lady Graeme looked ghastly. “What would you say, sir, if I were to order my men, in the king’s name, to search your place?” Sir Risdon dared not trust himself to speak, but darted an agonised glance at his wife. “However, sir, I’m not on that sort of business now,” continued Gurr sternly. “Want to find that boy. Good day. Now, my lads.” The men marched off, and Sir Risdon stood watching them. “Ah, Risdon,” and Lady Graeme, “how could you let yourself be dragged into these dreadful deeds!” “Don’t blame me,” he said sadly. “I loathe the whole business, but when I saw my wife and child suffering almost from want of the very necessaries of life, and the temptation came in the shape of presents from that man, I could not resist—I was too weak. I listened to his insidious persuasion, and tried to make myself believe that I was guiltless, as I owned no fealty to King George. But I am justly punished, and never again will I allow myself to be made an accessory to these lawless deeds.” “But tell me,” she whispered, “have they any of their goods secreted there now?” “I do not know.” “You do not know?” “No. The only way in which I could allow myself to act was to keep myself in complete ignorance of the going and coming of these people. I might suspect, but I would never satisfy myself by watching; and I can say now honestly, I do not know whether they have still goods lying there or have taken them away.” “But Celia—keep it from her.” “Of course.” “And about the missing boy. Surely, Risdon, they would not—” Lady Graeme did not finish, but gave her husband a piercing look. “Don’t ask me,” he said sadly. “Many of the men engaged in the smuggling are desperate wretches, and if they feared betrayal they would not scruple, I’m afraid, to strike down any one in the way of their escape.” Lady Graeme shuddered, and they went together into the house, just as Celia came across the wood at the back, in company with the dog. <hr> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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