第 14 页

evening with the revenue captain here, and we had to wait until the

two men left in charge of the boat went up to join their comrades at

the tavern. What have you got for us?"

"Six boxes and a lot of dunnage, such as cables, chains, and some

small anchors."

"Well, you had better wait for an hour before you take the hatches

off. You will hear the gig with the sailors row past soon. The tide

has begun to run down strong, and I expect the officer won't be long

before he moves. As soon as he has gone we will come out again. We

shall take the goods up half a mile farther. The revenue man on that

beat has been paid to keep his eyes shut, and we shall get them all

stored in a hut, a mile away in the woods, before daybreak. You know

the landing-place; there will be water enough for us to row in there

for another two hours."

The boat rowed away to the shore, which was not more than a hundred

yards distant. A little later they heard a stir on the strand, then

came the sound of oars, and two minutes later a boat shot past close

to them, and then, bearing away, rowed down the river.

"Now, lads," the captain said, "get the hatches off. The wind is

coming more offshore, which is all the better for us, but do not make

more noise than you can help."

The hatches were taken off, and the men proceeded to get up a number

of barrels and bales, some sail-cloth being thrown on the deck to

deaden the sound. Lanterns, passed down into the hold, gave them

light for their operations.

"This is the lot," one of the sailors said presently.

Six large boxes were then passed up and put apart from the others.

Then followed eight or ten coils of rope, a quantity of chain, some

kedge anchors, a number of blocks, five rolls of canvas, and some

heavy bags that, by the sound they made when they were laid down,

Cyril judged to contain metal articles of some sort. Then the other

goods were lowered into the hold and the hatches replaced. The work

had scarcely concluded when the boat again came alongside, this time

with four men on board. Scarcely a word was spoken as the goods were

transferred to the boat.

"You will be going to-morrow?" one of the men in the boat asked.

"Yes, I shall get up to Ipswich on the top of the tide--that is, if I

don't stick fast in this crooked channel. My cargo is all either for

Ipswich or Aldborough. Now let us turn in," as the boatmen made their

way up the river. "We must be under way before daylight, or else we

shall not save the tide down to-morrow evening. I am glad we have got

that lot safely off. I always feel uncomfortable until we get rid of

that part of the cargo. If it wasn't that it paid better than all the

rest together I would not have anything to do with it."

Cyril was very glad to lie down on the locker, while the men turned

into their berths overhead. He had not yet fully recovered from the

effects of the blow he had received, but in spite of the aching of

his head he was soon sound asleep. It seemed to him that he had

scarcely closed his eyes when he was roused by the captain's voice,--

"Tumble up, lads. The light is beginning to show."

Ten minutes later they were under way. The breeze had almost died

out, and after sailing for some two miles in nearly a straight

course, the boat was thrown over, two men got into it, and, fastening

a rope to the ketch's bow, proceeded to tow her along, the captain

taking the helm.

To Cyril's surprise, they turned off almost at right angles to the

course they had before been following, and made straight for the

opposite shore. They approached it so closely that Cyril expected

that in another moment the craft would take ground, when, at a shout

from the captain, the men in the boat started off parallel with the

shore, taking the craft's head round. For the next three-quarters of

an hour they pursued a serpentine course, the boy standing in the

chains and heaving the lead continually. At last the captain

shouted,--"You can come on board now, lads. We are in the straight

channel at last." Twenty minutes later they again dropped their

anchor opposite a town of considerable size.

"That is Ipswich, lad," the captain said. "It is as nasty a place to

get into as there is in England, unless you have got the wind due

aft."

The work of unloading began at once, and was carried on until after

dark.

"That is the last of them," the captain said, to Cyril's

satisfaction. "We can be off now when the tide turns, and if we

hadn't got clear to-night we might have lost hours, for there is no

getting these people on shore to understand that the loss of a tide

means the loss of a day, and that it is no harder to get up and do

your work at one hour than it is at another. I shall have a clean up,

now, and go ashore. I have got your promise, lad, that you won't try

to escape?"

Cyril assented. Standing on the deck there, with the river bank but

twenty yards away, it seemed hard that he should not be able to

escape. But, as he told himself, he would not have been standing

there if it had not been for that promise, but would have been lying,

tightly bound, down in the hold.

Cyril and the men were asleep when the captain came aboard, the boy

alone remaining up to fetch him off in the boat when he hailed.

"There is no wind, captain," Cyril said, as the anchor was got up.

"No, lad, I am glad there is not. We can drop down with the tide and

the boat towing us, but if there was a head wind we might have to

stop here till it either dropped or shifted. I have been here three

weeks at a spell. I got some news ashore," he went on, as he took his

place at the helm, while the three men rowed the boat ahead. "A man I

sometimes bring things to told me that he heard there had been an

attempt to rescue the men concerned in that robbery. I heard, before

I left London, it was likely that it would be attempted."

There were a lot of people concerned in that affair, one way and

another, and I knew they would move heaven and earth to get them out,

for if any of them peached there would be such a haul as the

constables never made in the city before. Word was passed to the

prisoners to be ready, and as they were being taken from the

Guildhall to Newgate there was a sudden rush made. The constables

were not caught napping, and there was a tough fight, till the

citizens ran out of their shops and took part with them, and the men,

who were sailors, watermen, 'longshore-men, and rascals of all sorts,

bolted.

"But two of the prisoners were missing. One was, I heard, an

apprentice who was mixed up in the affair, and no one saw him go.

They say he must have stooped down and wriggled away into the crowd.

The other was a man they called Black Dick; he struck down two

constables, broke through the crowd, and got clean away. There is a

great hue and cry, but so far nothing has been heard of them. They

will be kept in hiding somewhere till there is a chance of getting

them through the gates or on board a craft lying in the river. Our

men made a mess of it, or they would have got them all off. I hear

that they are all in a fine taking that Marner is safely lodged in

Newgate with the others taken in his house; he knows so much that if

he chose to peach he could hang a score of men. Black Dick could tell

a good deal, but he wasn't in all the secrets, and they say Marner is

really the head of the band and had a finger in pretty nigh every

robbery through the country. All those taken in his place are also in

Newgate, and they say the constables are searching the city like

ferrets in a rabbit-warren, and that several other arrests have been

made."

"I am not sorry the apprentice got away," Cyril said. "He is a bad

fellow, there is no doubt, and, by the look he gave me, he would do

me harm if he got a chance, but I suppose that is only natural. As to

the other man, he looked to me to be a desperate villain, and he also

gave me so evil a look that, though he was in the dock with a

constable on either side of him, I felt horribly uncomfortable,

especially when I heard what sort of man he was."

"What did they say of him?"

"They said they believed he was a man named Ephraim Fowler, who had

murdered the skipper and mate of a coaster and then went off in the

boat."

"Is that the man? Then truly do I regret that he has escaped. I knew

both John Moore, the master, and George Monson, the mate, and many a

flagon of beer we have emptied together. If I had known the fellow's

whereabouts, I would have put the constables on his track. I am

heartily sorry now, boy, that I had a hand in carrying you off,

though maybe it is best for you that it has been so. If I hadn't

taken you someone else would, and more than likely you would not have

fared so well as you have done, for some of them would have saved

themselves all further trouble and risk, by chucking you overboard as

soon as they were well out of the Pool."

"Can't you put me ashore now, captain?"

"No, boy; I have given my word and taken my money, and I am not one

to fail to carry out a bargain because I find that I have made a bad

one. They have trusted me with thousands of pounds' worth of goods,

and I have no reason to complain of their pay, and am not going to

turn my back on them now they have got into trouble; besides, though

I would trust you not to round upon me, I would not trust them. If

you were to turn up in London they would know that I had sold them,

and Marner would soon hear of it. There is a way of getting messages

to a man even in prison. Then you may be sure that, if he said

nothing else, he would take good care to let out that I was the man

who used to carry their booty away, sometimes to quiet places on the

coast, and sometimes across to Holland, and the first time I dropped

anchor in the Pool I should find myself seized and thrown into limbo.

No, lad; I must carry out my agreement--which is that I am not to

land you in England, but that I am to take you across to Holland or

elsewhere--the elsewhere meaning that if you fall overboard by the

way there will be no complaints as to the breach of the agreement.

That is, in fact, what they really meant, though they did not

actually put it into words. They said, 'We have a boy who is an

informer, and has been the means of Marner being seized and his place

broken up, and there is no saying that a score of us may not get a

rope round our necks. In consequence, we want him carried away. What

you do with him is nothing to us so long as he don't set foot in

England again.' 'Will Holland suit you? I am going across there,' I

said, 'after touching at Ipswich and Aldborough.' 'It would be much

safer for you and everyone else if it happen that he falls over

before he gets there. However, we will call it Holland.'"

"Then if I were to fall overboard," Cyril said, with a smile, "you

would not be breaking your agreement, captain? I might fall overboard

to-night, you know."

"I would not advise it, lad. You had much better stay where you are.

I don't say I mightn't anchor off Harwich, and that if you fell

overboard you couldn't manage to swim ashore, but I tell you I would

not give twopence for your life when you got back to London. It is to

the interest of a score of men to keep Marner's mouth shut. They have

shown their willingness to help him as far as they could, by getting

you out of the way, and if you got back they would have your life the

first time you ventured out of doors after dark; they would be afraid

Marner would suppose they had sold him if you were to turn up at his

trial, and as like as not he would round on the whole lot. Besides, I

don't think it would be over safe for me the first time I showed

myself in London afterwards, for, though I never said that I would do

it, I have no doubt they reckoned that I should chuck you overboard,

and if you were to make your appearance in London they would

certainly put it down that I had sold them. You keep yourself quiet,

and I will land you in Holland, but not as they would expect, without

a penny or a friend; I will put you into good hands, and arrange that

you shall be sent back again as soon as the trial is over."

"Thank you very much, captain. I have no relations in London, and no

friends, except my employer, Captain David Dowsett, and by this time

he will have made up his mind that I am dead, and it won't make much

difference whether I return in four or five days or as many weeks."

CHAPTER VI

A NARROW ESCAPE

The _Eliza_, for this Cyril, after leaving Ipswich, learnt was her

name, unloaded the rest of her cargo at Aldborough, and then sailed

across to Rotterdam. The skipper fulfilled his promise by taking

Cyril to the house of one of the men with whom he did business, and

arranging with him to board the boy until word came that he could

safely return to England. The man was a diamond-cutter, and to him

packets of jewellery and gems that could not be disposed of in

England had often been brought over by the captain. The latter had

nothing to do with the pecuniary arrangements, which were made direct

by Marner, and he had only to hand over the packets and take back

sums of money to England.

"You understand," the captain said to Cyril, "that I have not said a

word touching the matter for which you are here. I have only told him

that it had been thought it was as well you should be out of England

for a time. Of course, he understood that you were wanted for an

affair in which you had taken part; but it matters not what he

thinks. I have paid him for a month's board for you, and here are

three pounds, which will be enough to pay for your passage back if I

myself should not return. If you do not hear from me, or see the