CHAPTER TEN.
THE "HOVEL" ON DEAL BEACH--A STORM BREWING--PLANS TO CIRCUMVENT THESMUGGLERS.
On a calm, soft, beautiful evening, about a week after the eventsnarrated in the last chapter, Guy Foster issued from Sandhill Cottage,and took his way towards the beach of Deal.
It was one of those inexpressibly sweet, motionless evenings, in whichone is inclined, if in ordinary health, to rejoice in one's existence;and in which the Christian is led irresistibly to join with the Psalmistin praising God, "for his goodness, and for his wonderful works to thechildren of men."
Young Foster's thoughts ran for a considerable time in this latterchannel; for he was one of those youthful Christians whose love to ourSaviour does not easily grow cold. He was wont to read the Bible as ifhe really believed it to be the Word of God, and acted in accordancewith its precepts with a degree of bold simplicity and trustfulness,that made him a laughing-stock to some, and a subject of surprise andadmiration to others, of his companions and acquaintance. In short, hewas a Christian of a cheerful, straightforward stamp.
Yet Guy's course was not all sunshine, neither was his conductaltogether immaculate. He was not exempt from the general rule, that"through much tribulation" men shall enter into the Kingdom. As hewalked along, rejoicing in his existence and in the beauty of thatmagnificent evening, a cloud would rise occasionally and call forth asigh, as he recollected the polite intimation of his uncle, that he hadextended his leave of absence _ad_ _infinitum_! He could not shut hiseyes to the fact that a brilliant mercantile career on which he hadrecently entered, and on which he might naturally look as the course cutout for him by Providence, was suddenly closed against him for ever. Heknew his uncle's temper too well to expect that he would relent, and hefelt that to retract a statement which he knew to be true, or to expressregret for having boldly told the truth as he had done, was out of thequestion. Besides, he was well aware that such a course would not nowavail to restore him to his lost position. It remained, therefore,that, being without influential friends, he must begin over again andcarve his own way in the world.
But what then? Was this not the lot of hundreds of thousands? Littletime had been lost; he was young, and strong, and hearty. God hadwritten, "Commit thy way unto the Lord, trust also in Him, and He shallbring it to pass." "Whatever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thymight, as unto the Lord, and not unto men." Under the influence of suchthoughts the clouds cleared away from Guy's brow, and he raised hiseyes, which for some minutes had been cast down, with a hopeful gaze tothe heavens.
There he soon became lost in admiration of the clouds that were floatingin masses of amber and gold; rising over each other--piled up, mass uponmass--grotesque sometimes in form, solid yet soft in aspect, andinexpressibly grand, as a whole, in their towering magnificence.
There were signs, however, among the gorgeous beauties of thiscloud-land, that were significant to eyes accustomed to read the face ofthe sky. Various lurid and luminous clouds of grey and Indian-red huestold of approaching storm, and the men of Deal knew that the sea, whichjust then pictured every cloud in its glassy depths as clearly as ifthere had been another cloud-land below its surface, would, ere long, beruffled with a stiffish breeze; perhaps be tossed by a heavy gale.
Men in general are not prone to meditate very deeply on what is going onaround them beyond the reach of their own vision. This is natural andright to some extent. If we were to be deeply touched by the joys,sorrows, calamities, and incidents that at all times affect humanity, weshould cease to enjoy existence. Life would become a burden. The endof our creation would not be attained. Yet there is an evil of anopposite kind which often mars our usefulness, and makes usunconsciously participators in acts of injustice. This evil is, partialignorance of, and indifference to, much that goes on around us beyondthe range of our vision, but which nevertheless claims our attention andregard.
Every one who reflects will admit that it is pleasant to think, when weretire to rest, that a splendid system of police renders our home aplace of safety, and that, although there are villains more than enoughwho would do their best to get at our purses and plate, we need not makeourselves uneasy so long as the stout guardians of the night are on thebeat. Do we not congratulate ourselves on this? and do we not pay thepolice-tax without grumbling, or at least with less grumbling than wevent when paying other taxes?
Should it, good reader, be less a subject of pleasant contemplationthat, when the midnight storm threatens to burst upon our shores, thereare men abroad who are skilled in the perilous work of snatching itsprey from the raging sea; that, when the howling gale rattles ourwindows and shakes our very walls, inducing us perchance to utter themental prayer, "God have mercy on all who are on the sea this night,"that then--at that very time--the heroes of our coast are abroad allround the kingdom; strong in the possession of dauntless hearts and ironframes, and ready to plunge at any moment into the foaming sea to therescue of life or property?
Who can say, during any storm, that he may not be personally interestedin the efforts of those heroes?
We knew a family, the members of which, like those of all the otherfamilies in the land, listened to the howling of that fearful stormwhich covered our shores with wrecks on the 25th of November, 1859.Their thoughts were sad and anxious, as must be the case, more or less,with all who reflect that in such nights hundreds of human beings are_certainly_ perishing on our shores. But ah! what would the feelings ofthat family have been had they known--as they soon came to know--thattwo stalwart brothers of their own went down that night among the 450human beings who perished in the wreck of the "Royal Charter?"
In regard to the "Royal Charter," it may be truly said that there was nonecessity for the loss of that vessel. God did not send _direct_destruction upon her. The engines were too weak to work her off theland in the face of the gale, and the cables could not hold her. Thesewere among the causes of her loss. And when she did get ashore, everylife might have been saved had there been a lifeboat or rocket apparatusat hand. We know not why there were neither; but may it not have beenbecause lifeboats and rockets are not sufficiently numerous all alongour shores? How many bleeding hearts there were that would have givendrops of their life-blood to have provided the means of saving life onthe coast of Anglesea on that terrible night! A few small coins givenat an earlier date might have saved those lives! No individual in theland, however far removed from the coast, can claim exemption from thedangers of the sea. His own head may indeed lie safe from the ragingbillow, but at any moment the sea may grasp some loved one, and thuswreck his peace of mind, or engulf his property and wreck his fortune.Why, then, should not the whole nation take the affairs of the coastnearer to its heart? The Lifeboat Institution is not supported bytaxation like our police force. It depends on the charity of thepeople. Don't you think, reader, that it has a strong claim on thesympathies, the prayers, and the purse of every living soul in thekingdom? But to return, with many apologies, from this digression.
Guy Foster noted the peculiar appearance of the clouds, and concludedthat "something was brewing." All along the shores stout men in glazedand tarry garments noted the same appearances, and also concluded thatit would be dirty weather before long. The lifeboat men, too, were onthe _qui vive_; and, doubtless, the coxswain of each boat, from John o'Groat's to the Land's-end, was overhauling his charge to see that allwas right and in readiness for instant service.
"It's going to blow to-night, Bax," said Guy, on entering the hovel ofthe former.
"So 'tis," replied Bax, who was standing beside his friends Bluenose andTommy Bogey, watching old Jeph, as he busied himself with the model ofhis lifeboat.
Jeph said that in his opinion it was going to be a regular nor'-easter,and Bluenose intimated his adherence to the same opinion, with a slap onhis thigh, and a huge puff of smoke.
"You're long about that boat, Jeph," said Bluenose, after a pause,during which he scanned the horizon with a telescope.
"S
o I am. It ain't easy to carry out the notion."
"An' wot may the notion be?" inquired Bluenose, sitting down on a coilof rope, and gazing earnestly at the old man.
"To get lifeboats to right themselves w'en they're upset," replied Jeph,regarding his model with a look of perplexity. "You see it's all verywell to have 'em filled with air-chambers, which prevents 'em fromsinkin'; but w'en they're upset, d'ye see, they ain't o' no use tillthey gets on their keels again; and that ain't easy to manage. Now I'vebin thinkin' that if we wos to give 'em more sheer, and raise the stemand stern a bit, they'd turn over natural-like, of their own accord."
"I do believe they would," said Bax. "Why, what put that into yer head,old man?"
"Well, it ain't altogether my own notion," said Jeph, "for I've heard,when I was in the port o' Leith, many years ago, that a clergyman o' thename of Bremer had made a boat o' this sort in the year 1792, thatanswered very well; but, somehow or other, it never came to anything.There's nothin' that puzzles me so much as that," said the old man,looking up with a wondering expression of countenance. "I don'tunderstand how, w'en a good thing is found out, it ain't made the mostof _at once_! I never could discover exactly what Mr Bremer's planwas, so I'm tryin' to invent one."
As he said this, Jeph placed the model on which he was engaged in asmall tub of water which stood at his elbow. Guy, who was muchinterested in the old man's idea, bent over him to observe the result ofthe experiment. Tommy Bogey sat down beside the tub as eagerly as if heexpected some wonderful transformation to take place. Bax and Bluenosealso looked on with unusual interest, as if they felt that a crisis inthe experimental labours of their old comrade had arrived.
"It floats first-rate on an even keel," cried Tommy, with a pleased lookas the miniature boat moved slowly round its little ocean, "now then,capsize it."
Old Jeph quietly put his finger on the side of the little boat, andturned it upside down. Instead of remaining in that position it rolledover on one side so much, that the onlookers fully expected to see itright itself, and Tommy gave vent to a premature cheer, but he cut itsuddenly short on observing that the boat remained on its side with oneof the gunwales immersed, unable to attain an even keel in consequenceof the weight of water inside of it.
"I tell ye wot it is, Jeph," said Bluenose, with emphasis, "you'll do ityet; if you don't I'll eat my sou'-wester without sauce, so I will. Asthe noospapers says, you'll inaggerate a new era in lifeboats, old boy,that's a fact, and I'll live to see it too!"
Having delivered himself of this opinion in tones of much fervour, thecaptain delivered his mouth of a series of cloudlets, and gazed throughthem at his old friend with unfeigned admiration.
Guy and Bax were both impressed with the partial success of theexperiment, as well as with Jeph's idea, and said to him, encouragingly,that he had very near hit it, but Jeph himself only shook his head andsmiled sadly.
"Lads," said he, "_very near_ is sometimes a long way farther off thanfolk suppose. Perpetual motion has bin _very nearly_ discovered eversince men began to try their hands at engineerin', but it ain'tdiscovered yet, nor never will be--'cause why? it ain't possible."
"Ain't poss'ble!" echoed Bluenose, "you're out there, old man. Idiskivered it, years ago. Just you go up to Sandhill Cottage, andinquire for one Mrs Laker, a hupright and justifiable sister o' mine.Open that 'ooman's mouth an' look in (she won't bite if ye don't botherher too much), and lyin' in that there cavern ye'll see a thing called a_tongue_,--if that ain't an engine of perpetooal motion, shiver mytimbers! that's all."
Just as the captain made this reckless offer to sacrifice his timbers,Peekins--formerly the blue tiger--entered the hovel, and going hastilyto Bluenose, whispered in his ear.
A very remarkable transformation had taken place in the outward man ofpoor Peekins. After coming with Bax to Deal he had been adopted, as itwere, by the co-partners of the hovel, and was, so to speak, sharedequally by Bax, Bluenose, old Jeph, and Tommy. The wonderfully thin andspider-like appearance which he presented in his blue-tights and buttonson his arrival, created such a howl of derisive astonishment among thesemi-nautical boys of Deal, that his friends became heartily ashamed ofhim. Bax, therefore, walked him off at once to a slop-shop, wheresea-stores of every possible or conceivable kind could be purchased atreasonable prices, from a cotton kerchief, with the Union Jack in themiddle of it, to the old anchor of a seventy-four gun ship, with awooden stock big enough to make a canoe.
Here Peekins was disrobed of his old garments, and clad in canvastrousers, pilot-cloth jacket and vest, with capacious pockets, and asou'-wester; all of which fitted him so loosely that he felt persuadedin his own mind he could easily have jumped out of them with an upwardbound, or have slipped out of them downwards through either leg of thepantaloons. He went into that store a blue spider, he came out areasonable-looking seafaring boy, rather narrow and sloping about theshoulders, it is true, but smart enough and baggy enough--especiallyabout the nether garments--to please even Bax, who, in such matters, wasrather fastidious.
The whispered communication, above referred to, had the effect ofcausing Bluenose to spring up from the coil of rope, and exclaim--"Youdon't say so!"
Then, checking himself, and looking mysterious, he said he wanted tohave a word with Bax in private, and would be obligated if he'd go withhim a bit along shore.
"Well, what's the news?" inquired Bax, when they were alone.
"We've heerd of Long Orrick," said Bluenose, eagerly.
"That's not much news," said Bax; "you told me there wasn't enoughwitnesses to swear to him, or something o' that sort, and that it wouldbe no use attempting to put him in limbo, didn't you?"
"Ay," replied the other, striking his clenched right hand into the palmof his left, "but the villain don't the less deserve to be tied up, andget twelve dozen for all that. I'd content myself with knocking outboth his daylights for his cowardly attempt to badger an old man, butthat wouldn't be safe; besides, I know'd well enough he'd take tosmugglin' again, an' soon give us a chance to nab him at his old tricks;so Coleman and I have been keepin' a look-out on him; and we've foundthat small yard o' pump-water, Peekins, oncommon clever in the way o'watchin'. He's just brought me word that he heard Long Orrick talkin'with his chum Rodney Nick, an' plannin' to run their lugger to-nightinto Pegwell Bay, as the coast at the Fiddler's Cave would be too wellwatched; so I'm goin' down to Fiddler's Cave to-night, and I wants youto go with me. We'll get Coleman to help us, for he's savage to gethold of Long Orrick ever since the night they put him in a sack, an'left him to air his timbers in the Great Chapel Field."
"But if," said Bax, "Long Orrick said he would run to Pegwell Bay, whichis three or four miles to the nor'ard o' this, and resolved that hewould _not_ go to Fiddler's Cave, which is six miles to the s'uth'ard,why should you go to the very place he's not likely to be found at?"
"Because I knows the man," replied Bluenose, with a wink of deepmeaning; "I knows him better than you do. W'en Long Orrick is seenbearin' away due north with flying colours, you may take your Davy thathis true course lies south, or thereby."
Bax smiled, and suggested that they should take Guy Foster with them,and when Tommy Bogey heard what they were about he volunteered hisservices, which were accepted laughingly. Being of a sociabledisposition, Tommy deemed it prudent to press Peekins into the service,and Peekins, albeit not pugnacious by nature, was quite willing andready to follow wherever his sturdy little friend chose to lead.
So they all set off, along the road that skirts the beach, towards SaintMargaret's Bay. The sun was just sinking as they started, and the redclouds were beginning to deepen in their colour and look ominous, thoughthe sea was still quiet and clear like a sheet of glass.
After following the road for some time, they diverged into the footpaththat leads to, and winds along the giddy edge of, the chalk cliffs whichrise abruptly from the shore at this part of the Kentish coast to theheight of several hundred feet.
The path being narrow, the
y were obliged to walk in single file, Baxleading, Bluenose and Guy following, and Tommy with his meek friendbringing up the rear.
The view seawards was indescribably magnificent from the elevated ridgealong which they hastened. The Downs was crowded with hundreds ofvessels of every form and size, as well as of every country, all waitingfor a favourable breeze to enable them to quit the roadstead and put tosea. Pilot luggers and other shore-boats of various kinds were movingabout among these; some on the look-out for employment, others intent ondoing a stroke of business in the smuggling way, if convenient. Faraway along the beach men of the coastguard might be seen, like littleblack specks, with telescopes actively employed, ready to pounce on andoverhaul (more or less stringently according to circumstances) everyboat that touched the shingle. Everything in nature seemed silent andmotionless, with the exception of the sea-mews that wheeled round thesummits of the cliffs or dived into the glassy sea.
All these things were noted and appreciated in various degrees by themembers of the party who hastened towards Saint Margaret's Bay, but noneof them commented much on the scenery. They were too well accustomed tothe face of nature in every varying mood to be much struck with her faceon the present occasion. Perhaps we may except Guy Foster, who, beingmore of a city man than his companions, besides being more highlyeducated, was more deeply impressed by what he saw that evening. ButGuy was too much absorbed by the object of the expedition to venture anyremark on the beautiful aspect of nature.
"D'ye see that lugger, Bax?" said Bluenose, pointing to a particularspot on the sea.
"Between the Yankee and the Frenchman?" said Bax, "I see it well enough.What then?"
"That's Long Orrick's boat," replied the Captain, "I'd know it among athousand. Depend on it we'll nab him to-night with a rich cargo ofbaccy and brandy a-board. The two B's are too much for him. He'd sellhis soul for baccy and brandy."
"That's not such an uncommon weakness as you seem to think," observedGuy. "Every day men sell their souls for more worthless things."
"D'ye think so?" said Bluenose, with a philosophical twist in hiseyebrows.
"I know it," returned Guy; "men often sell both body and soul (as far aswe can judge) for a mere idea."
Here Bax, who had been examining the lugger in question with apocket-telescope, said that he had no doubt whatever Bluenose was right,and hastened forward at a smarter pace than before.
In less than two hours they descended the steep cliffs to the shingle ofSaint Margaret's Bay; and at the same time the wind began to rise, whilethe shades of night gradually overspread the scene.
Saint Margaret's Bay is one of those small, quiet, secluded hamletswhich are not unfrequently met with along our coasts, and in regard towhich the stranger is irresistibly led to ask mentally, if not really,"Why did people ever come to build cottages and dwell here, and what dothey do? How do they make a livelihood?"
No stranger ever obtains a satisfactory answer to these questions, forthe very good reason that, short though they be, the answers to themwould involve almost a volume, or a speech equal in length to that withwhich the Chancellor of the Exchequer introduces his annual budget.There would be various classes to describe, numerous wants to apprehend,peculiar circumstances and conditions of social life to explain; inshort, the thing is a mystery to many, and we merely remark on the fact,without having any intention of attempting to clear the mystery away.
So narrow is the strip of shingle that lies between the sea and thecliffs in Saint Margaret's Bay, that the cottages have been built closeup to the latter--much too close, we venture to think, for safety; butperhaps men who live in constant peril of their lives, count theadditional risk of being crushed along with their families under twentyor thirty tons of chalk, unworthy of consideration!
On descending to the beach the first thing our party saw was the burlyfigure of Coleman seated on his "donkey" by the "sad sea waves."
It must not be supposed that the coast-guard-man was literally astrideof a live ass! No; his "donkey" was an exceedingly ingeniouscontrivance invented specially for the use of a class of men who, beinghuman, cannot avoid becoming fatigued--yet who, being sentinels, mustnot on any account whatever be permitted to encourage sleep.
The men of the coast-guard are subject to prolonged and frequent periodsof watching, by night as well as by day, hence they are liable to becomewearied. It has been wisely considered that the most self-denyingmortal alive will, when hard pressed, sit down on a rock or on theground, if need be, just to relieve his legs a little. The same wiseconsideration has recalled the fact that when men do this they becomehelplessly incapable of resisting the drowsy god, and will assuredly goto sleep, against their will and their judgment.
To meet this case, some truly great mind invented the "donkey." Thiscontrivance is simply a stool with _one_ leg. The top of the stool isnot round, but oblong, and very small. A hole in the centre receivesthe solitary leg, which is attached to it by a piece of cord, and can bepulled out when occasion requires, and the machine thrown over the armas one would throw a cloak or scarf. The beauty of the donkey is, thatit forms an excellent seat on which a man can balance himself and restwith great comfort as long as he keeps awake; but should he fall asleep,even for one instant, he infallibly comes to the ground with a shock sosevere that he is quite certain to remain wakeful during the remainderof his vigil!
"What, ho! Coleman," cried Bax, as he and his friends drew near, "haveyou actually acquired the art of sleeping on a donkey?"
Coleman rose and turned round with a good-humoured smile on his ruddyvisage:
"Nay, not quite that," said he, "but the hiss of the waves is apt todull the hearin' a bit, an' one don't naturally look for enemies fromland'ard, d'ye see?"
"Mayhap not," said Bluenose, taking a fresh quid of tobacco out of abrass box which he carried at all times in his waistcoat pocket; "but Iexpect an enemy from seaward to-night who'll be oncommon glad to makeyour acquaintance, no doubt!"
Here the Captain chuckled, engulfed his fresh quid, and proceeded toexplain the nature of their errand. Having done so, he asked Colemanwhat he thought of it.
The worthy coast-guard-man scratched his nose and stared at the shinglefor some minutes before venturing to reply.
"I think," said he at length, "that we'll cook his goose to-night;that's wot it is."
Coleman paused, and looked thoughtfully at Bluenose. The Captain noddedhis head pleasantly, but said nothing, and Coleman proceeded:--
"He'll come in with the flood-tide no doubt, if the gale don't drive himin sooner, an' run ashore as near to the cave as possible; but he'll bescared away if he sees anything like unusual watchin' on the shore, soyou'd better get out o' sight as fast as ye can, and keep there."
"Don't you think it would be as well that you also should keep out ofsight, and so leave the coast clear for him?" suggested Bax.
"Not so," said Coleman with a grin, "he'd see that I'd done it for anobject. Long Orrick keeps his weather eye too wide open to be caught soeasy as that comes to."
"Well, but come up for half-an-hour, and have a glass of beer while wetalk over the business," said Bax.
Coleman shook his head, "Can't quit my post; besides, I don't drink nobeer."
"Brayvo! old feller," cried Bluenose, "give us your flipper. Water,cold, for ever! say I, as the whale remarked to the porpoise. But let'sgo under the lee o' the boat-'ouse an' talk it out, for we shan't nabLong Orrick this night, if we doesn't go at 'im like a cat at a mouse."
"Just listen to that old codfish," said Tommy Bogey to Peekins, "takin'credit to his-self for not drinkin', though he smokes like a steam-tug,an' chews like--like--I'm a Dutchman if I know what, unless it be likethe bo'sun of a seventy-four gun ship."
"Do bo'suns of seventy-four gun ships chew very bad?" inquired Peekins.
"Oh! don't they!" exclaimed Tommy, opening his eyes very wide, androunding his mouth so as to express his utter inability to convey anyidea of the terrific powers of bo'suns in t
hat particular line. "ButBluenose beats 'em all. He'd chew oakum, I do believe, if he didn't getbaccy, and yet he boasts of not drinkin'! Seems to me he's just as badas the rest of us."
"D'you think so?" said Peekins, with a doubtful look; "don't you thinkthe man who does only two nasty things is better off than the one thatdoes three?"
"Nasty things!" exclaimed Tommy in a tone of amazement. "Don't Baxdrink and smoke, and d'ye think _he'd_ do one or t'other if they wasnasty? Peekins, you small villian as was a blue spider only a weeksince, if you ever talks of them things being nasty again, I'll wopyou!"
"You hear that, Bax?" said Guy Foster, who, being only a few paces aheadof the boys, had overheard the remark, spoken as it was in rather a loudkey.
Bax nodded his head, and smiled, but made no reply.
It is but just to say that Tommy's threat was uttered more than half injest. He would as soon have thought of "wopping" a little girl as ofmaltreating his meek companion. But Peekins was uncertain how to takehis threat, so, not being desirous of a wopping, he held his tongue andhumbly followed his comrades.
The party walked for some time at the foot of the cliffs under the leeof a boat-house, engaged in earnest conversation as to the best mode ofproceeding in the meditated enterprise. It was evident to all of themthat the hour for action could not now be far distant; for the galeincreased every moment; the light on the South Foreland was alreadysending its warning rays far and wide over the angry sea, whence thefloating lights that mark the sands sent back their nightly greeting,while dark thunderous clouds mantled over the sky and deepened theshades of night which, ere long, completely overspread land and sea.