In the Roar of the Sea Part 19

"And pistols go off," said Scantlebray. "I shall not be surprised or sorry if Captain Cruel be washed up one of these next tides with a bullet through his head. Ebenezer Wyvill is one of the guards, and he has his brother's death to avenge."

"Do you really believe that Coppinger killed him?"

Mr. Scantlebray shrugged his shoulders. "It don't matter much what _I_ think, to-night, but what the impression is that Ebenezer Wyvill carries about with him. I imagine that if Ebenezer comes across the Captain he won't speak to him by word of mouth, nor trouble himself to feel for a pair of handcuffs. So--fill my gla.s.s again, old man, and we'll drink to a cold bed and an indigestible lump--somewhere--in his head or in his gizzard--to Cruel Coppinger, and the wiping off of old scores--always a satisfaction to honest men." Scantlebray rubbed his hands. "It is a satisfaction to the conscience--to ferret out the rats sometimes."

CHAPTER XIV.

WARNING OF DANGER.

Judith, lost for awhile in her dreams, had been brought to a sense of what was the subject of conversation in the adjoining room by the mention of Coppinger's name more than once. She heard the desultory talk for awhile without giving it much attention, but Scantlebray's voice was of that harsh and penetrating nature that to exclude it the ears must be treated as Ulysses treated the ears of his mariners as he pa.s.sed the rock of the Sirens.

Presently she became alive to the danger in which Coppinger stood.

Scantlebray spoke plainly, and she understood. There could be no doubt about it. The Black Prince belonged to the Captain, and his dealings with and through that vessel were betrayed. Not only was Coppinger, as the head of a gang of smugglers, an object worth capture to the Preventive men, but the belief that he had caused the death of at least one of their number had embittered them against him to such an extent that, when the opportunity presented itself to them of capturing him red-handed engaged in his smuggling transactions, they were certain to deal with him in a way much more summary than the processes of a court of a justice. The brother of the man who had been murdered was among the coast-guard, and he would not willingly let slip a chance of avenging the death of Jonas Wyvill. Coppinger was not in a condition to defend himself effectively. On that day for the first time, had he left off his bandages, and his muscles were stiff and the newly set bones still weak.

What was to be done? Could Judith go to bed and let Coppinger run into the net prepared for his feet--go to his death?

No sooner, however, had Judith realized the danger that menaced Coppinger than she resolved on doing her utmost to avert it. She, and she alone, could deliver him from the disgrace, if not the death, that menaced him.

She stole lightly from the room and got her cloak, drew the hood over her head, and sallied forth into the night. Heavy clouds rolled over the sky, driven before a strong gale. Now and then they opened and disclosed the twilight sky, in which faintly twinkled a few stars, and at such times a dim light fell over the road, but in another moment lumbering ma.s.ses of vapor were carried forward, blotting out the clear tract of sky, and at the same time blurring all objects on earth with one enveloping shadow.

Judith's heart beat furiously, and timidity came over her spirit as she left the cottage, for she was unaccustomed to be outside the house at such an hour; but the purpose she had before her eyes gave her strength and courage. It seemed to her that Providence had suddenly const.i.tuted her the guardian angel of Coppinger, and she flattered herself that, were she to be the means of delivering him from the threatened danger, she might try to exact of him a promise to discontinue so dangerous and so questionable a business. If this night she were able to give him warning in time, it would be some return made for his kindness to her, and some reparation made for the injury she had done him. When for an instant there was a rift in the clouds, and she could look up and see the pure stars, it seemed to her that they shone down on her like angels' eyes, watching, encouraging, and promising her protection. She thought of her father--of how his mind had been set against Coppinger; now, she felt convinced, he saw that his judgment had been warped, and that he would bless her for doing that which she had set her mind to accomplish. Her father had been ever ready frankly to acknowledge himself in the wrong when he had been convinced that he was mistaken, and now in the light of eternity, with eyes undarkened by prejudice, he must know that he was in error in his condemnation of Coppinger, and be glad that his daughter was doing something to save that man from an untimely and b.l.o.o.d.y death.

Not a soul did Judith meet or pa.s.s on her way. She had determined in the first case to go to Pentyre Glaze. She would see if Captain Cruel were there. She trusted he was at his house. If so, her course was simple; she would warn him and return to Mr. Menaida's cottage as quickly as her feet would bear her. The wind caught her cloak, and she turned in alarm, fancying that it was plucked by a human hand. No one, however, was behind her.

In Pentyre lane it was dark, very dark. The rude half-walls, half-hedges stood up high, walled toward the lane hedged with earth and planted with thorns toward the field. The wind hissed through the bushes; there was an ash tree by a gate. One branch sawed against another, producing a weird, even shrill sound like a cry.

The way led past a farm, and she stole along before it with the utmost fear as she heard the dog in the yard begin to bark furiously, and as she believed that it was not chained up, might rush forth at her. It might fall upon her, and hold her there till the farmer came forth and found her, and inquired into the reason of her being there at night.

If found and recognized, what excuse could she give? What explanation could satisfy the inquisitive?

She did not breathe freely till she had come out on the down; the dog was still barking, but, as he had not pursued her, she was satisfied that he was not at large. Her way now lay for a while over open common, and then again entered a lane between the hedges that enclosed the fields and meadows of the Glaze.

A dense darkness fell over the down, and Judith for a while was uncertain of her way, the track being undistinguishable from the short turf on either side. Suddenly she saw some flashes of light that ran along the ground and then disappeared.

"This is the road," said a voice.

Judith's heart stood still, and her blood curdled in her veins. If the cloud were to roll away--and she could see far off its silvery fringe, she would become visible. The voice was that of a man, but whether that of a smuggler or of a coast-guard she could not guess. By neither did she care to be discovered. By the dim, uncertain light she stole off the path, and sank upon the ground among some ma.s.ses of gorse that stood on the common. Between the p.r.i.c.kly tufts she might lie, and in her dark cloak be mistaken for a patch of furze. She drew her feet under the skirt, that the white stockings might not betray her, and plucked the hood of her cloak closely round her face. The gorse was sharp, and the spikes entered her hands and feet, and p.r.i.c.ked her as she turned herself about between the bushes to bring herself deeper among them.

From where she lay she could see the faintly illumined horizon, and against that horizon figures were visible, one--then another--a third--she could not count accurately, for there came several together; but she was convinced there must have been over a dozen men.

"It's a'most too rough to-night, I reckon," said one of the men.

"No, it is not--the wind is not direct on sh.o.r.e. They'll try it."

"Coppinger and his chaps are down in the cove already," said a third.

"They wouldn't go out if they wasn't expecting the boats from the Black Prince."

"You are sure they're down, Wyvill?"

"Sure and sartain. I seed 'em pa.s.s, and mighty little I liked to let 'em go by--without a pop from my pistol. But I'd my orders. No orders against the pistol going off of itself, Captain, if I have a chance presently?"

No answer was given to this; but he who had been addressed as Captain asked--

"Are the a.s.ses out?"

"Yes; a whole score, I reckon."

"Then they'll come up the mule path. We must watch that. Lieutenant Hanson will be ready with the cutter to run out and stop their way back by water to the Prince. The Prince's men will take to the sea, and he'll settle with them; but Coppinger's men will run up the cliffs, and we must tackle them. Go on."

Several now disappeared into the darkness, moving toward the sea.

"Here, a word with you, Wyvill," said the Captain.

"Right, sir--here I be."

"Dash it!--it is so dark! Here, step back--a word in your ear."

"Right you are, sir."

They came on to the turf close to where Judith crouched.

"What is that?" said the Captain, hastily.

"What, sir?"

"I thought I trod on something like cloth. Have you a light?"

"No, sir! Home has the dark lantern."

"I suppose it is nothing. What is all that dark stuff there?"

"I'll see, sir," said Wyvill, stooping, and with his hand. "By George, sir! it's naught but fuzz."

"Very well, Wyvill--a word between us. I know that if you have the chance you intend to send a bullet into Coppinger. I don't blame you.

I won't say I wouldn't do it--unofficially--but looky' here, man, if you can manage without a bullet--say a blow with the b.u.t.t-end on his forehead and a roll over the cliffs--I'd prefer it. In self-defence of course we must use fire-arms. But there's some squeamish stomachs, you understand; and if it can come about accidentally, as it were--as if he'd missed his footing--I'd prefer it. Make it pleasant all around, if you can."

"Yes, sir; leave it to me."

"It oughtn't to be difficult, you know, Wyvill. I hear he's broke one arm, so is like to be insecure in his hold climbing the cliffs. Then no questions asked, and more pleasant, you know. You understand me?"

"Yes, sir; thank you, sir."

Then they went on, and were lost to sight and to hearing. For some minutes Judith did not stir. She lay, recovering her breath; she had hardly ventured to breathe while the two men were by her, the Captain with his foot on her skirt. Now she remained motionless, to consider what was to be done. It was of no further use her going on to Pentyre Glaze. Coppinger had left it. Wyvill, who had been planted as spy, had seen him with his carriers defile out of the lane with the a.s.ses that were to bring up the smuggled goods from the sh.o.r.e.

She dare not take the path by which on the preceding afternoon she had descended with Jamie to the beach, for it was guarded by the Preventive men.