*CHAPTER XIV*
*A DISCOVERY*
About nine o'clock the next morning the _Fury_ ran into Falmouth Harbor.Sending a boat's crew ashore to get fresh provisions, Jack closetedhimself in the cabin, and, leaning his head on his hands, pored over thepaper on which he had made the strange jottings the night before.
The numbers represented the flashes which had followed at intervals of asecond; the short dashes represented intervals of five seconds, the longdashes intervals of twenty seconds. What was the explanation? It wasclear that the signalers had a code; the flashes in some way spelt outwords, and Jack guessed from the long time the message had taken thatthe words were spelt in full. How was he to set about finding out whatthey were? He had never in his life read a cipher, and for some minuteshe was at a loss how to begin.
At last it struck him that the highest number he had written was 20.There were twenty-six letters in the alphabet, and some of the letters,such as Q, X, Z, were very seldom used. It was not unlikely that in acomparatively short message they would not be used at all. Each lettermight be represented by a number. He wrote down the twenty-six lettersof the alphabet, placing a number under each, from 1 to 26. Then hesubstituted the letters for the numbers on the paper, thus:
QCRB----AQQCTB----P----K----OATCQB
This was nonsense; the fact that most of the letters were consonants,and the one that most frequently occurred, Q, showed that he was on thewrong tack. He must try again. He was sure the long dashes representedthe intervals between the words; what did the numbers stand for?
"I wonder what letter is most often used?" he thought. He wrote downthe first thing that occurred to him, the first line of the song, _Heartof Oak_--
"Come, cheer up, my lads, 'tis to glory we steer."
"'Tis E!" he said to himself. "It occurs in four words out of ten. Nowthere are three words in the stuff that have 3 and 2 in them; dependupon it either 3 or 2 stands for E. Which is it? Why, E is the secondvowel, and I is the third. Every word has one or two vowels in it, andtwo of these words have I in them. Perhaps the five vowels are numbered1, 2, 3, 4, 5. Let's try that."
Recopying the alphabet, he found that on this system the message read--
PIQE----APPISE----N----H----MASIPE
"It looks a little more pronounceable, but hanged if I can make anysense of it. There's a French look about it. Why, what a dolt I am! Ifit's Fronsac who's signaling from the Folly, of course the message willbe in French. Not that that helps matters!" he thought dolefully. "TheFrench alphabet's the same as the English till you get to W, and W isnumber 23, which doesn't come in. Confound the thing!"
It was not until he had pondered and puzzled for more than an hour thatJack got any fresh light. Then it occurred to him that some of theless-used of the letters might have been dropped. After some thought, heleft out K, Q, and all the letters after V, and renumbered those thatwere left. The first result of this change gave him a thrill. He speltout the word "RISE."
"Now I'm on the scent!" he said to himself.
Next came the word "ARRIVE," then two initials--P, H, after them theword "NAVIRE."
"I can't make any sense of it at present. Let's go on."
At length the complete message was deciphered. It ran as follows--
RISE ARRIVE P H NAVIRE SOUS CONVOI E FREGATE PARTENT VENDREDI POURJAMAIQUE SANDI COVE SAMEDI.
This was certainly clearer; it was decidedly French for the most part;but what did "RISE," "P," "H" and "E" mean? In a few minutes Jackjumped to the meaning of H and E; they were to be taken as numbers, notas letters; eleven merchant ships under convoy of two frigates wereleaving on Friday for Jamaica. What about "RISE?" He remembered by andby that he had not begun to write until the signaling had been inprogress for some time. "RISE" was probably the end of a word. WhatFrench word ended so? He put other letters in turn before theperplexing syllable: _brise, crise, grise, prise_. PRISE! Captured!He saw it at last. The signaler was informing the men of the luggerthat a captured ship had arrived; P stood for Portsmouth; and Jack hadno doubt that the ship meant was the _Glorieuse_.
All that was left of the message were the last three words: "SANDI COVESAMEDI." These suggested that Sandy Cove was to be the scene of a cargorun on Saturday; but Jack had never heard of Sandy Cove. For the momenthe gave no more thought to it; the first part of the message was of muchgreater importance than any smuggling business.
The mystery was becoming clear at last. No wonder the French showed adisconcerting knowledge of the movement of English ships! De Fronsac wasa spy! So far from detesting the Monstair, he was actually in theMonstair's pay. His business was to supply the Monstair withinformation. And his cunning had found a means to avoid the perils thatotherwise might have beset his task. He had made friends of theLuscombe smugglers, ostensibly cast in his lot with them, so that hemight have opportunities of signaling information to the French. Jacksaw through the scheme in a flash.
It was Wednesday. Obviously there was no time to be lost if the shipsto sail on Friday were to be saved. The lugger would convey the messageto one of the western ports of France, and the enemy's cruisers wouldcome out in sufficiently large force to cut off the merchantmen andconvoy. They could indeed afford to wait a few days, for even if thewind proved favorable for the sailing of the English vessels, they wouldmake such slow progress that a French fleet in pursuit could overhaulthem speedily, and, knowing their destination, would probably havelittle difficulty in finding them. Admiral Horniman must be at onceinformed of the discovery.
The men having by this time returned from their errand on shore, Jack atonce hoisted sail and ran back to Portsmouth, keeping well out in theChannel off Luscombe to avoid recognition. The admiral spent fiveminutes in blowing off a considerable amount of warm language when heheard the story.
"The merchantmen shall sail if the wind favors," he said, when he hadrecovered. "But I'll increase their escort, and the French shall get anunpleasant surprise, I promise 'em, if they act on the informationthey've got. And that Frenchman at Luscombe, I'll string him up to theyard-arm. I'll stop his signaling. I'll give orders for the tower tobe occupied, and every one found there put in irons and clapped underhatches."
"I don't think you'll find any one there, sir," Jack ventured tosuggest. "Fronsac's hand in glove with the smugglers, that's themeaning of 'Sandy Cove Saturday.' If any of our men are seen making amove in Luscombe direction the news will be signaled along the coast.They'd all clear out. Couldn't we play their own game, sir?"
"What d'you mean?"
"I don't exactly see all the way, sir; but what occurred to me was thatwe might do a little signaling and catch 'em in their own net."
"A capital notion! By gad, we'll do it! We'll have to let 'em maketheir run on Saturday?"
"Yes, sir, and arrange to signal from the tower next Wednesday."
"Very well. I leave it to you. You seem to have got some brains. Cometo me if you want any assistance."
Before he returned to the _Fury_ Jack scribbled a note to his motherannouncing his safe return, and begging her on no account to let thenews travel to Bastable Grange. It was better that for the present hiscousins should be ignorant of his whereabouts.
On reaching the cutter he started on a run up the coast. He wished tokeep away from Luscombe until Saturday. Though he had no intention ofinterfering with the smugglers' run on that day, he was anxious towitness it. For one thing, it would prove whether he had read theintercepted message aright; moreover, he particularly desired to findout who was engaged in the business. Knowing what a close watch waskept by the smugglers, he recognized that it would not be easy to learnwhat he wished; but his successes in France had tended to dim the memoryof certain less fortunate incidents at Luscombe.
He now took Babbage and Turley into his confidence. When he mentionedSandy Cove he met with an unexpected check.
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p; "There ain't no such place, sir--leastways, not on this coast," saidTurley.
"Are you sure?" Jack insisted.
"Sartin, sir."
"That's strange. I don't think I read the word wrongly. I could besure it was Sandi, the way a Frenchman would spell it. We'll have to goback to Portsmouth and get a chart of the coast; we may find somethingthat looks like it."
But when he got a chart from the admiral he searched it in vain. Therewas no such name as Sandy Cove. He was convinced that he had notmistaken the signal; all that could be done now was to inquire in theneighborhood of Luscombe whether any of the inlets was locally known bythat name. But with the exception of the Bastables he knew of no onewhom he could trust, and he had a strong reason for avoiding thesquire's house; nothing must be done that might put De Fronsac on hisguard.
Then a thought of Gumley came to him--Joe Gumley, the one-legged sailor.He was Luscombe born; though he kept himself to himself, he wouldprobably know the whereabouts of Sandy Cove. And he might safely beasked the question, for, never a friend to the smugglers, he had adistinct grudge against them since that day when his garden wasransacked, and he was the least likely of men to give them anyinformation.
"Yes, I'll ask Gumley," thought Jack. "It can't do any harm."
It was afternoon when he steered the _Fury_ into a sheltered cove somesix miles west of Luscombe. He had chosen the spot because the coastthere was rugged, and the shore uninhabited, and the cutter might liesafe from wind and wave, and from observation by too inquisitive people.
"Now, Babbage," said Jack as he stepped ashore, "I leave you in charge.Keep quiet, and be on your guard."
"Ay, ay, sir. And what if you don't come back, sir, like as 'twas sixmonths ago t'other side of Luscombe?"
"Run back to Portsmouth and report to the admiral. But I'll be back,never fear."
He had exchanged his midshipman's hat for a wide-brimmed beaver, andwore a long cloak which made him look more like a magistrate's clerkthan a sailor. Thus disguised, he walked over the beach, climbed thecliff, and struck into a path which would lead by a roundabout way intothe Luscombe road. It was very unlikely that he would meet any of theLuscombe people in this direction; but Babbage's question reminded himof the unlucky end of a similar errand in the previous autumn, and hesmiled somewhat grimly as he remembered his resolve to get even with hiscaptors.
A white mist lay over the land, striking very cold against his face.But it favored his chances of escaping notice if any one should meethim, and he was indeed glad of the obscurity when, in the driver of agig that passed him, he thought he recognized the bulky form of Mr.Gudgeon. Save for this solitary traveler, the road was quite deserted,and he arrived without adventure at Gumley's cottage.
He looked over the fence. No one was to be seen. Though it was alreadyalmost dark, owing to the mist, no light appeared in the cottage window.
"Ahoy O!" he called, without raising his voice, making a trumpet of hishands so that the sound would carry. There was no answer.
He rapped on the fence, calling "Ahoy O!" again. Still there was noreply.
"Here goes!" he said to himself. Stripping off his cloak he folded itand laid it on the nails, then clambered over and hastened to the door.
"I say, Gumley, let me in," he said, rapping.
"Who be 'ee? This bean't no inn."
"It's me, Gumley--Jack Hardy, you know."
"Tell that to the marines. Mr. Hardy's far away. Get along with 'ee."
"Don't be a jackass, Gumley. Open the door. Comely will know me if youdon't."
"'Ware dog, then, and if his teeth jine in your legs 'tis your owndoing, whoever ye be!"
There was a rattling of the bolts. The door was opened. The bulldogrushed out, and with a growl of pleasure began to rub his nose againstJack's trousers.
"There you are, you see," he said, stepping into the cottage, to findGumley standing on guard with a blunderbuss.
"Well, sir, this is a rare surprise. I seemed to know your voice, butthought for sure it must be your ghost. Never did I expect to see youno more in this world, sir, and right glad I be."
"So am I, Gumley. But fasten up again, and light your lamp. I want totalk to you."
"But how did ye escape, sir?" asked Gumley, as he shot the bolt and ledthe way to his kitchen.
"'Tis too long a story to tell you now. Another time. But why, man,what's the matter with you? You look very down in the mouth."
"Ay, and so I feels, sir. What with worry and the rheumatics I feel Ibe not long for this world. I've bin twisted up with it all winter,sir. Since I sold they artichokes to Squire Bastable I've bin asuseless as an old hulk. In course, some folks might think me luckyhaving only one leg to get the rheumatics in; but chok' it all, sir, thepain's just as bad in the wooden leg as 'tis in t'other; ay, and worse,'cos I can doctor my natural leg, whereas not all the surgeons of KingJarge hisself could do this old stump any good."
"'Tis hard lines, indeed. But what's been worrying you?"
"Sit ye down, sir, and I'll tell 'ee about it."