Captain Mugford Part 17

Clump was down on his knees in the closet, overhauling the tool-box he had spoken of.

"Well, Drake, I'll tell you if Clump finds the articles," I answered.

"Have you got any, Clump?"

"Yah, Ma.s.sa, 'ere's a han'ful."

"These bullets and buckshot," I continued, "are for Walter and Harry to load their guns with; for, just as sure as that fellow came here this afternoon, just so sure, I believe, he will be back here before morning with more like him."

"What stuff," sang out Walter, laughing; "what puts that in your head, Bob?"

"I don't know exactly what, Walter, but I suspect it, and I have not liked to say anything about it before, because I was afraid of being laughed at. But the more I think of it, the more certain I am that the man who was here to-night is one of the band of smugglers who owned the goods taken through our means by the revenue men. There are others with him, and, mark my word, they have not come back for nothing. Now do, fellows, load your guns. We needn't say anything and get laughed at, for the Captain will surely laugh if we tell him my suspicions. You can take your guns upstairs, and then, if anything does happen before morning, you'll be all ready."

"Well, Walter," said Harry, "suppose we do--it's good fun at any rate to make believe that robbers, and outlaws, and smugglers, and all other sorts of odd visitors are coming--and--I cannot help owning that what Bob says sounds probable. So here go two bullets for this barrel, and nine buckshot for the other. Come, Walt, load up! Don't you shake in your boots already? ugh!"

"It is curious that we should have pretended to be smugglers if smugglers really do come. Probably that makes Bob fancy they will come; still, I wish that we had not frightened the old people so," said Walter, loading his gun; and a few minutes later Mr Clare opened the kitchen door and called us in to evening prayers. As they always did, Clump and Juno a.s.sembled with us in the dining-room.

There was something very impressive in those few moments before the chapter for reading was found. There was the sound of the turning over of the Bible leaves, and that of a light, pattering autumn rain without, (it had commenced after dark), besides the comfortable crackling of the wood-fire, and the occasional snapping of the fresh logs. The old, devoted, pious negroes; the rugged, benevolent Captain, with an expression of thought and reverent waiting in his face; and we boys, so full of youth and spirits, sat thinking--soberly, and perhaps solemnly-- how neither sickness nor harm had come near us; what blessings of pleasure, health, and strength had waited on us all during half a year; how those dear ones separated from us had been preserved from suffering and calamity, and were hoping to meet us before another week had commenced; how the common ties and a.s.sociations that had united us so happily and so long were soon to be sundered. Those and many other-- some graver, some lighter--thoughts, in those few seconds, occupied our minds, whilst Mr Clare turned over the leaves beneath the table lamp, and then his clear, strong voice slowly and feelingly uttered the words: "I will say of the Lord, _He is_ my refuge and my fortress: my G.o.d; in Him will I trust. Surely He shall deliver thee from the snare of the fowler, and from the noisome pestilence. He shall cover thee with His feathers, and under His wings shalt thou trust: His truth _shall_ be _thy_ s.h.i.+eld and buckler. Thou shalt not be afraid for the terror by night; nor for the arrow that flieth by day; nor for the pestilence that walketh in darkness; nor for the destruction that wasteth at noonday...

Because thou hast made the Lord which is my refuge, even the Most High, thy habitation... For He shall give His angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways. They shall bear thee up in their hands, lest thou dash thy foot against a stone... He shall call upon Me, and I will answer him. I will be with him in trouble: I will deliver him and honour him. With long life will I satisfy him, and show him My salvation."

And when the prayers had ended, we separated quietly for our beds, the Captain going off as usual to the brig.

I turned the key in the hall-door as he went out--the first time such a thing had been done during our stay on the cape. Ugly coiled himself up on the horsehair sofa in the dining-room, and in half an hour more, I suppose, every soul in the old house was asleep.

I dreamed that a lot of rabbits were in a hole together and making a humming noise, which, I believed, was a whispering they were having together, and I wanted to hear what they said, but that Ugly made such a barking I could not. I woke up, and, sure enough, Ugly was very noisy in the room below, barking regularly and harshly. No one else in the house seemed to be disturbed. There was a placid snoring in the attic, a pattering of rain on the roof, and a splas.h.i.+ng of water, as it ran off steadily in a stream to the ground. But in a minute or two, between Ugly's barks I thought I heard something which recalled what I had been dreaming of, the rabbits whispering in their burrow. I listened. Yes, some persons outside the house were talking together in low voices. I crawled to a window and looked out. There was an indistinct group of three or four persons standing by the rock, twenty yards from the house.

Their talk was only a murmur of different voices in discussion, sometimes louder, sometimes fainter; but as I watched, one of the group struck a light, and I saw in the flash four or five or more figures, and the face of the man who had entered the house in the evening, who was now holding a lantern to be lighted, and was also looking up at the house. It was a dark lantern, I suppose, for the light was shut up in some way after that. I shook each of the boys and told them to look out of the window, and then I ran into Mr Clare's room and woke him. When he saw that some sort of robbery or attack was to be made on the house, he exclaimed, "I hope they do not know that the Captain is alone in the brig," and ran downstairs to bolt all the doors and windows as securely as they could be fastened, and awaken Clump and Juno, who slept in a little room off the kitchen. Not a lamp was lighted in the house, but the smugglers had heard the noises made, and now, talking and swearing aloud, approached the door and turned the handle. Being bolted within, they could not open it.

"Hullo! hullo! I say, you Tregellin fellows, wake up!"--it was the voice we had heard before--"wake up and let us in?"--it sounded as if he turned to his companions then, and laughed and muttered something--"here's some decent sailor-boys as wants a drop and a bite, so wake up quick, boys and n.i.g.g.e.rs!--let us in, I say, or we'll break open the doors, and break your bones into the bargain."

At the conclusion of the speech, they all beat on the door and house with fists and sticks, and laughed loudly at their leader's joke. Mr Clare now went down the narrow, creaking stairs again to the big door they were pounding against so fiercely, and from behind its defence answered the summons.

"Men: this is a private house, and you must go away. You will get nothing here, and we are armed."

"Hurrah!" they answered without. I shall omit the terrible oaths with which they loaded every breath they spoke. "Who are you, big voice?"

"No matter," called out Mr Clare, "who I am. I suspect who you are, and we do not intend to let you get in here--that is all."

"That's a lie--we'll be in in ten minutes and make your ba.s.s a squeak.

If you don't open this 'ere door in a jiffy--we'll make grease-pots of you along with them n.i.g.g.e.rs. Look what we'll do with your castle--just what we have been doing with the old hulk down there on the rocks."

As he spoke, the darkness in the house withdrew to the holes and corners, and flashes of red and white light shot into every window and played on the walls, reflected from the midnight sky that had suddenly kindled to a blaze. The outlaws had set the old wreck on fire--our dear old school-house.

Could the Captain be there, sleeping yet? or had they killed him?

Ah! that doubt about Captain Mugford's safety magnified the danger of our own situation to our imaginations. If those outlaws could burn, in madness, such a harmless thing as the castaway brig, and could conquer such a powerful man as our salt tute, what might they not do here to us?

The hour--the yelling and swearing and banging at the doors--the lurid glare flas.h.i.+ng from the sky to show us each other's fear-stamped countenances--those united to bewilder and appal us boys at least.

Juno, too, was upstairs in our room, sitting on a low chair, perfectly silent, but overcome by dread. But Clump, who now showed the courage he really possessed, was active with Mr Clare downstairs, strengthening every window and door. He was not afraid. His old spirit was aroused, and, in the defence of his dear master's children, he was anxious to prove his courage and fidelity.

"Harry," Mr Clare called up the stairs, "bring me your gun. I shall want that down here. You say it is all loaded and ready, eh? Well, bring it down. Walter, you keep yours upstairs, and all you boys remain there until it is necessary to come down; and now, Walter, don't fire unless there is absolute necessity. The rascals can't burn this house unless they light the roof, and they can't stay here all night to do that, for the light of the _Clear the Track_ will bring over some of the townspeople. Poor Mugford! poor Mugford! Bob, you climb up to that little window in the south gable-end, and see if you can detect any movement about the wreck."

Harry handed him the gun, and I climbed to the lookout, relinquis.h.i.+ng Ugly, whom I had been holding, to Juno's care. He had been ordered not to bark, so now he only panted fiercely and listened intently.

The smugglers, after vain attempts at the front door--they could have smashed in the windows, shutters, latches, gla.s.s, and all, but their small size and height from the ground made them most dangerous to enter by when there were defenders within went round to the back of the house, and presently I heard a great ripping and banging of boards there, and Mr Clare's voice call quickly--

"If one inch of you enter there, I will fire--understand that."

Then we heard a shot, but knew by the report that it was not Harry's gun, and Drake called down the stairs, "Clump, who fired?"

"De smugglers, Ma.s.sa; one den shoot tru de winder at Ma.s.sa Clare, but tank de Lor, the scoundrel miss."

Just then I saw--and how the blood coursed with one cold sweep from my heart and back again--amid the hot flames of the burning wreck, Captain Mugford's figure. He sprang from the deck to the rocks and was rus.h.i.+ng towards the house. I turned and called the good news, but found that Juno and I were alone. The others, too much excited and interested in the contest to remain longer prisoners in the attic, had got on the stairway, and when I looked down on them Walter was on the bottom step with his gun c.o.c.ked.

Now many steps and the yelled-out blasphemy of the smugglers came round the house again to the front. Though, as we knew afterwards, two remained to keep Mr Clare occupied there, whilst the three others were to try the windows again.

Captain Mugford must be near. Oh! that he could get here safely. Ugly jumped by me, and, uttering a savage bark, sprang downstairs and past Walter. He had escaped from Juno's charge. As he flew about the rooms downstairs, a whole sash and shutter in the south-east room were driven in by a blow of an immense beam, and in another second half the body of a smuggler was above the window-sill. But with a tremendous leap Ugly reached him and pinned him by the throat. They tumbled back together.

Then we heard a new voice--Captain Mugford's!

"You cowards, you hang-dogs, you sc.u.m of the sea, you dark-hearted blackguards--take that! Aye, villains!--and that!"

Two pistol shots were heard. Harry jumped to open the door for Captain Mugford. Walter stood ready beside him with the gun. I ran with Drake to the open window, to see if harm had come to our dear salt tute, and Alfred had hurried in to where Mr Clare was alone guarding the back-door and broken windows, for he had sent Clump, not knowing of our being downstairs and of the Captain's coming, to fight where we were.

Clump had a short iron bar in his hands. I saw the man whom Ugly had gripped fallen on his knees and cutting our gallant little dog from his neck with a knife. One outlaw was stretched on the ground. Another was struggling with the Captain. He was a large, powerful fellow, and seemed to be getting the better of our now much-exhausted tutor. As I looked, the prostrate man rose, and both he and the one whom poor Ugly-- now dead on the gra.s.s--had attacked came to help crush the Captain.

Then the front door was flung open. Walter fired, and the man who had killed our brave dog dropped the knife he held, and, clasping his left shoulder with his right hand, screamed out a terrible oath, and, yelling with pain, ran from the struggle. At the same moment--all these events, from the time Captain Mugford arrived until the door was opened to admit him, not occupying probably three minutes--the Captain fell beneath his adversary, whose fingers clutched his throat, and the infuriated outlaw seemed determined to finish him. Walter could not fire again without shooting the very one for whose safety alone he would fire. But Clump jumped out with his iron bar and struck the a.s.sailant on the head. The Captain was released just as I saw the other miscreant level a pistol at Clump. I called, "Oh, Clump, Clump, take care!" With the sound of my voice came the sharp, fatal crack of the pistol, and Clump fell back--_dead_!

Two minutes more and all the smugglers were in full flight. The old, grey-headed, faithful, true-hearted Clump was dead, and Juno stretched unconscious on her husband's body. Ugly, all hacked to pieces, lay in a pool of blood, yet gasping. Captain Mugford, wounded, bruised, and exhausted, sat on the doorstep. Mr Clare was leaning over Clump with a hand on the pulseless heart. The burning wreck yet lighted the heavens, and the horrid scene at the very doorstep of our home of such a happy half-year.

CHAPTER TWENTY.

A RETROSPECT AND FAREWELL.

It is fifty years ago and some months since that rainy, b.l.o.o.d.y, flame-lit October night. And now this cold, wintery, bl.u.s.tering midnight, I--the Bob Tregellin of my story--sit writing this concluding chapter.

There is a coal-fire glowing hot in the grate. There are shelves and shelves of books; easy-chairs sprawling their indolent figures here and there; a curled-up bunch of fur purring in one; an old black setter-dog dreaming--as I can see by the whine in his quick breathing and the kicking of his outstretched legs--on a bearskin rug before the fire; and a circle of bright light from a well-shaded lamp falls about my table.

Yes--but I shall get up now for a minute and take down the old musket and dog-collar, the sight of which always vividly recalls those happiest months of my life--Fifty Years Ago.

As I replace them the storm without comes in a heavier, fiercer gust. I hear it rush in a whirl up the street. I see it almost lift the heavy curtains over the window, as if it would come in and rest itself. I hear it whistling through all the cracks and keyholes of the house-- whistling dismally. Its voices, and the rumbling of a hack in some neighbouring street, remind me of storms I have heard, lying comfortably in my snug attic bed in the old house on the cape--the wind and the waves das.h.i.+ng up the rocky sh.o.r.e.

That strong whiff disturbed p.u.s.s.y's and "the Captain's" (so I have called my old setter friend) nap, for puss stands up on her morocco bed and arches her back like a horseshoe, and then springs, with a jolted-out "mew-r-r-r," right on my table, and proceeds to walk over this ma.n.u.script, carrying her tail up as if she wanted to light it by the gas and beg me then to touch it to my pipe and stop scribbling. So I shall presently. And the Captain strolls up to lay his cold nose on my knee, slowly wag his silky tail, and look kindly into my face with those soft, big eyes, as if he would say, "Come, master, don't be low-spirited."

You are right, old fellow! I was somewhat sad about leaving the pleasant companions.h.i.+p I have held through my pen with brothers and friends of the old time, and a goodly number of those who are young now, while I am so no longer, except in memory and heart. Youth has come back with these pages, and perhaps you are tired with me, but I--I shall never tire of the _young_--the glorious companions.h.i.+p of the pure, merry, brave hearts that look undaunted and without suspicion on the great road stretching far into the Future, and fading only to reappear in mirages of splendour in a brilliant sky.

There! I have smoked my pipe: and now, Miss Puss, stretch yourself in the chair again, and you, Captain, resume that dream by the fire. I have got a few more lines to write before my invisible friends leave me.

From that autumn night, 1830, to this winter night of 1872, no clue has ever been discovered to the murderers of faithful old Clump. About Christmas time of the same year Juno closed her earthly eyes in the old Cape House--to open them again, I fervently believe, in heaven.