In the King's Name Part 20

In an instant the quiet stolid row of men were das.h.i.+ng here and there among the rocks in chase of a dark figure, which, from a thorough knowledge of the ground, kept eluding them, darting between the rocks, scrambling over others; and had he had to deal with a couple of pursuers he would have escaped at once, but he had too many on his track, and fortune was rather against him, so that several times over he ran right upon one or other of the party and was nearly taken.

The activity of the young man, for such he seemed to be, was something marvellous; and again and again he made a tremendous leap, scrambled over the rocks, and escaped. The last time, however, he dropped down in a narrow place that formed quite a _cul-de-sac_, and right in front of Tom Tully.

"What! have I got you?" cried the great stolid fellow; and he made a dash forward, straddling out his legs as if on board s.h.i.+p, when, to his intense astonishment, his quarry bent down, dashed at him, ducked between his knees, struggling through, and throwing the great sailor headlong flat upon his face.

The shout Tom Tully gave brought up Billy Waters; and as the stranger recovered his feet to escape in a fresh direction, he ran right into the gunner's arms, to be held with a grip like iron.

The man had his arms free, however, and putting his fingers into his mouth he gave vent to a piercing whistle, close to the gunner's ear.

"Oh, that's it, is it?" said Billy Waters. "Well, my lad, I sha'n't let you go any the more for that. Here, lend a hand my lads, and lash his wristies and elbows together. We've got him, and we'll keep him till we get back Muster Leigh. Now then, Tom Tully, you hold him while I lash his wristies. That's your style. I say, he won't get away once I--Look at that!"

Tom Tully had, as he thought, taken a good hold of the prisoner, when the man gave himself a sudden wrench, dived under the gunner's arm, and was gone.

"Well, of all--" began Tom Tully.

"Why didn't you hold him?" cried the gunner.

"I thought he was a man and not a slippery eel," cried Tom Tully. "He's for all the world like one o' them big congers Muster Leigh caught off Hastings."

"Yes," cried the gunner, "but he did hold 'em when he caught 'em. Look out, my lads! he come your way."

The men were well on the alert this time, and one of them, in spite of the darkness, saw which way the prisoner had taken, that being none other than the narrow pa.s.sage between the rocks which Hilary had found.

He saw him go down here, and then caught sight of him as he climbed over the rock.

"This way," shouted the sailor as he scrambled over after the escaping man, got into the chasm on the other side, and then following him, just in time to hear a dull, heavy thud, and his mate staggered back against him half stunned by a heavy blow.

Just then there was a sharp whiz; and he felt the wind of a blow aimed at him from the rocks above his head, to which he replied by lugging out his hanger and dealing a vigorous blow at his unseen enemy, but without effect.

"Here, this way," he shouted. "Waters! Tom Tully! Here they are."

A st.u.r.dy "Ahoy!" came in response, just as the first man began to scramble to his feet and stood rubbing his head.

"Where away?" cried Billy Waters.

"Here ho!" replied both the men in the narrow pa.s.s; and beading the rest of the party, the gunner, after another hail or two, scrambled over and joined the two first men, every one of the party now having his unsheathed cutla.s.s in his hand.

"Well," cried the gunner excitedly, "where are they?"

"Close here," said the man who had received the blow. "One of 'em hit me with a handspike."

"And some one cut at me from up above on the rocks," cried the other.

The gunner held up his hand to command silence, and then listened attentively.

"Why there ar'n't no one," he cried in tones of disgust. "You Joe Harris, you run up again a rock; and as for you, Jemmy Leeson, you've been asleep."

The two men indignantly declared that they had spoken the truth; but with an impatient "Pis.h.!.+" the gunner went forward along the narrow way.

"Here, come along," he said; and as the words left his lips those behind heard a heavy blow, and Billy Waters came hastily back.

"That ain't fancy," said one of the men, "unless Billy hit his head again the rocks."

"It warn't my head," whispered the gunner drawing in his breath, and trying to suppress the pain. "It caught me right on the left shoulder.

I shall be all right directly, my lads, and we'll give it 'em. I'll bet that's how they sarved poor Master Leigh; and we've dropped right into the proper spot. Just wait till I get my breath a bit."

"Think it's the smugglers?" said Tom Tully.

"Sartain," was the reply. "I wish we had a lantern or two. But never mind. If we can't see to hit them, they can't see to hit us; so it's broad as it's long."

"We shall want the pistols, shan't we?" said one of the men.

"Pistols? no," cried the gunner. "Stick to your whingers, lads. It's no use to fire a piece without you can take good aim, and you can't do that in the dark--it's only waste of powder. Now, then, are you ready?"

"Ay, ay," was whispered back in the midst of the ominous silence that prevailed.

"Then look here," cried the gunner, "I shall go in at 'em roosh; and if they downs me, don't you mind, lads, but keep on; go over me at once and board the place."

"Lookye here," growled Tom Tully, "I'm 'bout as hard as iron; they won't hurt me. Let me go fust, capten."

As he spoke the great fellow spat in his hand before taking a tighter grip of his weapon, and making a step forward.

"Just you keep aft, will yer, Tom Tully, and obey orders?" said the gunner, seizing the great fellow by the tail and dragging him back.

"I'm skipper here, and I'm going to lead. Now, lads, are you all ready?"

"Ay, ay," was the reply.

"Then I ar'n't," said the gunner. "That crack pretty nigh split my shoulder. Now I am. Close up, and hit hard. We're all right, my lads; they're smugglers, and they hit us fust."

The gunner made a dash forward, and, as they had expected, a concealed enemy struck a tremendous blow at him; but Billy Waters was a sailor, and accustomed to rapid action. By quickness of movement and ready wit he avoided the blow, which, robbed of a good deal of its force, struck Tom Tully full in the chest, stopping him for a moment, but only serving to infuriate him, as, recovering himself, he dashed on after the gunner.

A sharp fight ensued, for now, as the sailors forced their way on, they found plenty of antagonists. Most of them seemed to be armed with stout clubs like capstan-bars, with which they struck blow after blow of the most formidable character from where they kept guard at various turns of the narrow pa.s.sage, while the sailors could not reach them with their short cutla.s.ses.

It was sharp work, and with all their native stubbornness the little party fought their way on, attacking and carrying yard after yard of the pa.s.sage, forcing the smugglers to retreat from vantage ground to vantage ground, and always higher and higher up the rocks.

The attacking party were at a terrible disadvantage, for the place was to them like a maze, while the smugglers kept taking them in the rear, and striking at them from the most unexpected positions, till the sailors were hot with a rage that grew fiercer with every blow.

At the end of ten minutes two of the men were down, and the gunner and Tom Tully panting and breathless with their exertions; but far from feeling beaten they were more eager than ever to come to close quarters with their antagonists, for, in addition to the fighting spirit roused within them, they were inflamed with the idea of the large stores of smuggled goods that they would capture: velvets and laces and silks in endless quant.i.ties, with kegs of brandy besides. That they had hit accidentally upon the party who had seized Mr Leigh they had not a doubt, and so they fought bravely on till they reached a narrower pa.s.s amongst the rocks than any they had yet gone through. So narrow was it that they could only approach in single file, and, hemmed in as they were with the rocks to right and left, the attack now resolved itself into a combat of two--to wit, Billy Waters and a great broad-shouldered fellow who disputed his way. The men who backed up the big smuggler were apparently close behind him; but it was now too dark to see, and, to make matters worse for the gunner, there was no room for him to swing his cutla.s.s; all he could do was to make clumsy stabs with the point, or try to guard himself from the savage thrusts made at him with the capstan bar or club by the smuggler.

This went on for some minutes without advantage on either side, till, growing tired, Billy Waters drew back for a moment. "Now, my lads," he whispered, "I'm going to roosh him. Keep close up, Tom Tully, and nail him if I go down."

Tom Tully growled out his a.s.sent to the order given to him, and the next moment the gunner made a dash forward into the darkness, striking sharply downwards with his cutla.s.s, so sharply that the sparks flew from the rock, where his weapon struck, while on recovering himself for a second blow he found that it, too, struck the rock, and Billy Waters uttered a yell as he started back, overcome with superst.i.tious horror on finding himself at the end of the narrow rift, and quite alone.

"What's the matter, matey?" growled Tom Tully; "are you hurt?"

"No. Go and try yourself," said the gunner, who was for the moment quite unnerved.

Tom Tully squeezed by, and, making a dash forward, he too struck at the rock, and made the sparks fly, after which he poked about with the point of his cutla.s.s, which clinked and jingled against the stones.