STORY THREE, CHAPTER ONE.
IN A GOWT.
Looks ominous, don't it, to see nearly every gate-post and dyke-bridgemade of old ships' timber? Easy enough to tell that, from its bend, andthe tree-nail holes. Ours is a bad coast, you see; not rocky, but withlong sloping sands; and when the sea's high, and there's a gale onshore, a vessel strikes, and there she lies, with the waves lifting herbodily, and then letting her fall again upon the sands, shaking her allto pieces: first the masts go, then a seam opens somewhere in her sides,and as every wave lifts her and lets her down, she shivers and loosens,till she as good as falls all to pieces, and the shore gets strewn withold wreck.
Good wrecks used to be little fortunes to the folk along shore, butthat's all altered now; the coastguard look-out too sharp. Things arewonderfully changed to what they were when I was a boy. Fine bit ofsmuggling going on in those days; hardly a farmer along the coast buthad a finger in it, and ran cargoes right up to the little towns inland.The coast was not so well watched, and people were bribed easier, Isuppose; but, at all events, that sort of thing has almost died out now.
Never had a brush with the coastguard or the cutter in my time, for wewere all on the cut-and-run system: but I had a narrow escape for mylife once, when a boat's crew came down upon us, and I'll tell you howit was.
We were a strong party of us down on the shore off our point here atMerthorpe, busy as could be; night calm, and still, and dark, and one ofthose fast-sailing French boats--_chasse-marees_, they call them--landing a cargo. Carts, and packhorses, and boats were all at it; andthe kegs of brandy, and barrels of tobacco, and parcels of lace werecoming ashore in fine style; I and another in a little boat kept makingtrips backwards and forwards between the shore and the _chasse-maree_,landing brandy-tubs--nice little brandy-kegs, you know, with aVC--_Vieux Cognac_--branded on each.
I don't know how many journeys I had made, when all at once there was analarm given, and as it were right out of the darkness, I could see aman-of-war's boat coming right down upon us, while, before I quite gotover the first fright, there was another in sight.
Such a scrimmage--such a scamper; boats scattering in all directions;the French boat getting up a sail or two, and all confusion; whipscracking, wheels ploughing through the soft sand, and horses gallopingoff to get to the other side of the sandbank. We were close aside thelong, low _chasse-maree_, in our bit of a skiff thing, when the alarmwas given, and pushed off hard for the shore, which was about twohundred yards distant, while on all sides there were other boats settingus the example, or following in our wake; in front of us there was aheavy cart backed as far out into the sea as she would stand, with thehorses turned restive and jibbing, for there was a heavy load behindthem, and the more the driver lashed them, the more the brutes backedout in the shallow water, while every moment the wheels kept sinkingfarther into the sand.
I saw all this as the revenue cutter's boats separated, one making forthe _chasse-maree_, and the other dashing after the flying long-shoresquadron; and as I dragged at my oar, I had the pleasure of seeing thatwe must either be soon overhauled, or else leap out into the shallowwater, and run for it, and I said so to my companion.
"Oh, hang it, no," he cried; "pull on. They'll stave in the boat, andwe shall lose all the brandy."
I did pull on, for I was so far from being loyal, that I was ready torun any risk sooner than lose the little cargo we had of a dozenbrandy-kegs, and about the same number of packages; but there seemed notthe slightest prospect of our getting off, unless we happened to beunobserved in the darkness. However, I pulled on, and keeping off tothe right, we had the satisfaction of seeing the revenue boat rowstraight on, as if not noticing us.
"Keep off a little now," I whispered, "or we shall be ashore."
"No, no--it's all right," was the reply; "we are just over the swatch;"which is the local term given to the long channels washed out in thesand by the tide, here and there forming deep trenches along the coast,very dangerous for bathers.
"They see us," I whispered; when my companion backed water, and theconsequence was, that the boat's head turned right in-shore, and wefloated between the piles, and were next moment, with shipped oars, outof sight in the outlet of the gowt.
Now, I am not prepared to give the derivation of the word "gowt," but Ican describe what it is--namely, the termination, at the sea-coast, ofthe long Lincolnshire land-drains, in the shape of a lock with gates,which are opened at certain times, to allow the drainage to flow underthe sand into the sea, but carefully closed when the tide is up, toprevent flooding of the marsh-lands, protected by the high sea-bank,which runs along the coast and acts the part of cliffs. From theselock-gates, a square woodwork tunnel is formed by means of piles driveninto the shore, and crossed with stout planks; and this coveredwater-way in some cases runs for perhaps two hundred yards right beneaththe sandbank, then beneath the sand, and has its outlet some distancedown the shore; while, to prevent the air blowing the tunnel up when thesea comes in, a couple of square wooden pipes descend at intervals ofsome fifty yards through the sand into the water-way; at high water,when the mouth is covered, and the lock-gates closed, the air comesbellowing and roaring up these pipes as every wave comes in; and attimes, when the tunnel is pretty full, the water will, after chasing theair, rush out after it, and form a spray fountain; while, as the wavesrecede, the wind rushes back with a strange whistling sound, and adraught that draws anything down into the tunnel with a fierce rush.But there was another peculiarity of the hollow way that was strangelyimpressed upon my memory that night--namely, its power of acting as avast speaking-tube, for if a person stood at one of the escape-pipes andwhispered, his words were distinctly audible to another at the otherpipe some fifty yards off, who could as easily respond.
Well, it was into the mouth of the gowt tunnel that we had now run theboat, where we were concealed from view certainly; and thrusting againstthe piles with his hands, my companion worked the boat farther into thedarkness, until the keel touched the soft sand.
"That's snug," he whispered: "they'll never find us here."
"No," I said, as a strange fear came upon me. "But isn't the tiderising?"
"Fast," he said.
"Then we shall be stopped from getting out."
"Nonsense!" he said. "It will take an hour to rise above thetunnel-mouth, and if it did, we could run her head up higher and higher.Plenty of fresh air through the pipes."
"If we're not drowned," I said.
"There, if you want to lose the cargo, we'll pull out at once, and giveup," he said.
"But I don't," I replied; "I am staunch enough; only I don't want torisk my life."
"Well, who does?" he said. "Only keep still, and we shall be allright."
The few minutes we had been conversing had been long enough for the tideto float the boat once more, and this time I raised my hand to the rootand thrusting against the tunnel-covered, weed-hung, slimy woodwork,soon had the boat's keel again in the sand, so as to prevent her beingsucked out by the reflux of the tide. At times we could hear shouts,twice pistol-shots, and then we were startled by the dull, heavy reportof a small cannon.
"That's after the _chasse-maree_," whispered my companion; "but shesails like a witch. She's safe unless they knock a spar away."
"I wish we were," I said, for I did not feel at all comfortable in ourdark hole, up which we were being forced farther and farther by theincreasing tide; while more than once we had to hold on tightly by thehorrible slimy piles, to keep from being drawn back.
"Just the place to find dead bodies," whispered my companion, evidentlyto startle me.
"Just so," I said coldly. "Perhaps they'll find two to-morrow."
"Don't croak," was the polite rejoinder; and then he was silent; but Icould hear a peculiar boring noise being made, and no further attemptsat a joke issued from my friend's lips.
"Suppose we try and get out now?" I whispered, after another quarter ofan hour's listening in the darkness, and hearing
nothing but the softrippling, and the "drip, drip" of water beyond us; while towards themouth came the "lap, lap" of the waves against the sides of the tunnel,succeeded by a rushing noise, and the rattling of the loose musselsclustering to the woodwork, now loudly, now gently; while every lightrustle of the seaweed seemed to send a shiver through me.
The noise as of boring had ceased some time, and my friend now drew myattention to one of the kegs, which he had made a hole through with hisknife; and never before did spirits come so welcome as at that moment.
"Better try and get out now," whispered my companion.
"They must be somewhere handy, though one can't see even their boat,"said a strange voice, which seemed hollow and echoing along the tunnel,while the rattling of the shells and lapping of the water grew louder.
All at once I raised my head, as if to feel for the hole down which thesound of the voice came, when, to my alarm, I struck it heavily againstthe top of the tunnel, making it bleed against the shelly surface.
"Wait a bit," said my companion thickly; "they're on the look-out yet;it's madness to go out." And I then heard a noise which told me that hewas trying to drown consciousness in the liquor to which he had made hisway.
However, it seemed to me madness to stay where we were, to be drownedlike rats in a hole; and taking advantage of the next receding wave, Igave the boat a start, and she went down towards the mouth of the tunnelfor a little way, when a coming current would have driven her back, onlyI clung to the root now very low down, and rather close to which theboat now floated. Another thrust, and I pushed her some distance down,but with the next wave that came in, my hand was jammed against theslimy roof, and, unnerved with horror, I gasped: "Rouse up, Harry! themouth's under water!"
Hollowly sounded my voice as the wave sank, and I felt once more free,and in sheer despair forced the boat lower down the tunnel; but thistime, when the tide came in again, I had to lie right back, the boatrose so high, and I felt the dripping seaweed hanging from the roof weepcoldly and slimily over my face; when, before the next wave could raiseus, I thrust eagerly at the side, forcing the boat inward again, but inthe fear and darkness, got her across the tunnel, so that head and sternwere wedged, and as the next rush of water came, it smote the boatheavily, and made her a fixture, so that in spite of my efforts, itcould not move her either way.
Wash came the water again and again, and at every dash a portion cameinto the boat, drenching me to the skin; while I now became aware thatHarry Hodson was lying stupefied across the kegs, and breathing heavily.
I made one more effort to move the boat, but it was tighter than ever;and after conquering an insane desire to dive out, and try and swim tothe mouth, I let myself cautiously down on the inner side, and stood,with the water breast-high, clinging to the gunwale. The next moment itrose above my mouth, lifting me from my feet, and as it rushed back,sucked my legs beneath the boat; but I gained my feet again, and beganto wade inward.
Yet strong upon me as was the desire for life, I could not leave mycompanion to his fate in so cowardly a way; so I turned back, and thistime swimming, I reached the boat, now nearly full of water; and halfdragging, half lifting, I got his body over the side, and holding on byhis collar, tried once more for bottom. But it was a horrible timethere in the dense black darkness--a darkness that, in my distemperedbrain, seemed to be peopled with hideous forms, swimming, crawling, andwaiting to devour us, or fold us in their slimy coils. The drippingwater sounded hollow and echoing; strange whispers and cries seemedfloating around; the mussels rustled together: and ever louder andlouder came the "lap, lap, lapping" of the water as it rushed in anddashed against the sides and ceiling of the horrible place.
I was now clinging with one hand to the boat's side, while with theother I held tightly by Hodson's collar; but though I waited till thewave receded before I tried the bottom, it was not to be touched; so,shuddering and horror-stricken, I waited the coming wave, and struck offswimming with all my might. It was only a minute's task; but when,after twice trying, my feet touched the bottom, I was panting heavily,and so nervous, that I had to lean, trembling and shaking, against theside. But I had a tight hold of Hodson, whose head I managed to keepabove water; and it was not until warned of my danger by the risingtide, and the difficulty I found keeping my feet that I again essayed topress forward.
Just then, something cold and wet swept across my face, and dashing outmy arms to keep off some monster of the deep, my hands came in contactwith a round body which beat against my breast and in my horror, as Idashed away, I was some paces ere the dragging at my limb told me that Ihad left my comrade to his fate. The next moment however, he was sweptup to me; and once more clutching his collar, and keeping his head abovewater, I waded slowly along the tunnel, when again I nearly lost myhold, for the same wet slimy body swept across my face; but raising myhand, I only dashed away one of the long strands of bladder-weed whichhung thickly from the cross timbers of the roof.
It was no hard matter to bear my companion along with me, for I had onlyto keep his head up, his body floating along the surface, but myfoothold was uncertain, for now the bottom was slimy, and my feet sunkin the ooze deeper and deeper, for I was nearing the gates through whichthe fresh water of the marshes was let in; and though the water was nowonly to my middle, I made my way with difficulty, for there was aperceptible current against me.
Breathing would have been easy, had it not been for my excitement; andnow a horrid dread seemed to check the very act, for all at once I hearda heavy reverberating noise, and the thought struck me that they wereopening the gates, and in another instant the fearful rush of freshwater would come bearing all before it--even our lives.
In the agony of the moment I uttered a wild unearthly shriek--so fearfula cry, that I shrank against the side afterwards, and clung to a slimypost, trembling to hear the strange whispering echoes, as the cryreverberated along the place, and mingled with the lapping rush of thewater, the dripping from the root and a loud sound as of a littlewaterfall in front.
Now came again the shape of something round swimming up against me, andas it struck my side, I beat at it savagely, though I smiled at myfoolish fear the next moment, for it was one of the brandy-kegs washedout of the boat. But horror still seemed to hold me, as I waded onfarther and farther, till once more the water began to deepen, and theooze at the bottom grew softer; so I stopped, listening to the heavyrushing of water in front, where the drainage escaped, and washedheavily down, deepening the tunnel at the foot of the doors; while inthat hollow, cavernous place, growing smaller moment by moment, therushing sound was something hideous. Danger in front, for the greatgates might at any time be opened; and danger behind, where the tide wascoming in ceaselessly, and deepening the water around me with itsregular beating throb, minute by minute. Thoughts of the past andpresent seemed to surge through my brain, so that I grew bewildered, andhad any chance of escape presented itself I could not have seized it,though I could not but tell myself that escape was impossible. A fewminutes--ten, twenty, thirty perhaps, and the black darkness seemed tobe growing blacker.
"I must be free," I muttered; and dragging Hodson's handkerchief fromhis neck, I bound it to my own, and then making them fast beneath hisarms, felt among the woodwork till I could find a place where I couldpass them through, so that I could secure him from slipping down, orbeing swept away by the ebbing and flowing of the water.
I was not long in finding a place; but then the handkerchiefs were notlong enough, and I had to add one from my pocket; then I left the poorfellow quite insensible and half-hanging from one of the timbers. Andnow I waded about, searching for the mouth of the air-pipe, in the hopeof shouting up it for succour, since I felt convinced that the tidewould effectually fill the tunnel, while the very thought of the gatesbeing opened half-maddened me; and heedless now of who might hear me, sothat they brought succour, I hunted aimlessly about, yelling andshrieking for aid.
It was a fearful struggle between reason and dread; and for ever
dreadkept getting the upper hand: now it was a floating keg again and againmaking me dash away now one of the packages hurried in by the tide;while the strange drippings and hollow whisperings were magnified intoan infinity of horrors. Every monster with which imagination haspeopled the sea seemed to be there to attack me--strange serpent orlizard like beasts, slimy and scaled, thronging along the ceiling or upthe sides, swimming around me, or burrowing through the sand. More thanonce I actually touched some swimming object, but the contact wasmomentary, and the stranger darted off. Then reason would gainsupremacy for a while; and trying to cool my throbbing brow with thewater, I thought of my position, whispered a few prayers, andendeavoured to compose myself. There was even now a doubt: the tidemight not rise high enough to cover me; certainly it was now at mybreast, and I was standing with difficulty in the shallowest place Icould pick. The next moment, as the waves receded, it would fall to mywaist; but again it was up to my chest, and in spite of gleams of hope,despair whispered truly that it was now higher up my chest than before.True; but one wave in so many always came higher than the others. Thetide might still be at its height, and this be that particular wave.
I moved again and again, but ever with the same result; and at last,despairingly, I was clinging to a shell-covered piece of timber at theside, with the water at my chin.
A noise, a clanking noise as of chains rattling and iron striking iron;and now hope fled, for I knew that this must be the opening of the doorsof the gowt; but, to my surprise, no rush of water followed; only alittle came, which lapped against my lips, while a rush of air smote myforehead.
Voices, shouts, and Hodson's name uttered; but I could not shout inreply. Then my own name; and I gave some inarticulate cry by way ofanswer, while once more reason seemed to get the better of the dread,for I knew that the far doors of the gowt had not been opened, and thatthey kept up the drainage, while the pair nearest to me had only had thepressure upon them of the water escaping from the first. And now a goodbold swim, and I could have been in the big pit-like opening between thetwo pairs of gates; but the spirit was gone, the nerve was absent andstill clinging to the shelly piece of timber, I closed my eyes, for Ifelt that near as rescue seemed, I could do nothing to aid it. As forHodson, in this time of dread, I had forgotten him--forgotten all butthe great horror of the water lap, lap, lapping at my lip, andoccasionally receding, its fizzing spray in my nostrils.
Higher and higher, covering my lip; but by a desperate effort I raisedmyself a few inches, but only to go through the same agonies again, asthe water still crept up and up, slowly but surely, while in this mylast struggle my head touched the top timbers, the weed washed and sweptover it, and as I forced my fingers round the timber to which I clung,my body floated in the water.
Another minute, and I felt that all was over, for the water covered myface once, twice; and half strangled, I waited gasping for the thirdtime; but it came not. Half a minute passed, and then again it washedover my face, seeming as if it would never leave it; but at last it wasgone, and too unnerved to hope, I awaited its return, but it came not.
I dared not hope yet, till I felt that the water was perceptibly lower,and then the reaction was so fearful that I could hardly retain my holdtill the tide had sunk so that once more I could stand, when my shoutsfor help brought assistance to me through the gowt, for they lowereddown a little skiff with ropes, and I was brought out as nearly dead asmy poor companion.
That night's work sprinkled my hair with grey, and was my lastexperience with the smuggling business. The loss was heavy; but I hadescaped with life, while poor Hodson was followed to the grave by somescore the following Sunday.