CHAPTER XI
HOW CAME PAUL TASSH ON SEAL ISLAND?
STEADYING himself on the rope, Atherton stood on the brink of theledge and watched for the reappearance of the submerged man. The buoywas floating, but for quite a quarter of a minute its late occupantwas nowhere to be seen. When at length he rose to the surface, thebuoy had drifted ten yards to leeward of him.
Fortunately the seaman was a swimmer, and without hesitation hestruck out for the buoy.
"Haul in!" ordered Atherton, as the man grasped the life-savingobject, and passed it over his head and shoulders.
Promptly the "Otters" obeyed, till the Leader ordered them to stop.Another wave was breaking, and should the man be caught close to thecliffs he would assuredly be dashed to death against the rocks.
Down came the mountain of water, but instead of carrying the seamanwith it, it passed harmlessly by, expending its energy in a blow thatraised a column of spray forty feet in the air.
"Now, haul!" bawled Atherton, and to his relief he saw the man drawnclear of the turmoil of foam and unceremoniously dragged upon theledge.
"Signal to them to send another line ashore," ordered the Leader; butin reply the despairing message came from the wreck, "We have no morerope."
"Could I swim off to the ship?" asked Green. "I'll risk it."
"Impossible," replied Atherton. "It is hopeless to attempt to swimagainst such a sea."
"What is to be done?" asked Phillips. "We cannot stand here and letthose fellows drown before our eyes."
Atherton shook his head. All that was humanly possible for them to dohad been done. He knew that it was not the first time by any meansthat men had been drowned in full view of their would-be rescuers.
"Forepeak's full o' water," announced the last of the saved crew."That's where there's many a coil o' rope."
"Couldn't they dive for it or fish it up with a boathook?" askedAtherton.
"Maybe they haven't thought o' that, sir," was the reply.
"Tell them to make another attempt to find a rope," ordered Atherton."Failing that, their only chance is to jump overboard and trust thatthey lay hold of the ropes we lower to them."
But before Phillips could send the signal, Tom Mayne gave vent to aloud shout.
"Look! Look!" he exclaimed, pointing seaward. "The lifeboat!"
The Scout was right. Riding lightly over the mountainous seas was thered-white-and-blue painted lifeboat from Gwyll Cove. Under sail shestood down till within a cable's length of the wreck. To approachcloser under sail or oars would be fatal, for the heavy seas wouldcarry the craft upon the jagged rocks.
Breathlessly the Scouts watched the completion of their work ofrescue. Anchoring well to windward of the wreck the lifeboat menveered out fathom after fathom of stout cable, till the craft driftedto within twenty yards of the fast-disappearing wreck.
From this distance it was a fairly easy matter to heave a loadedcane, to which was attached a line, across the steamer's deck, and ina very short time means of communication were established between thelifeboat and the doomed vessel.
One by one the three remaining seamen were dragged into safety; thelifeboat hauled out, buoyed and slipped her cable, and hoisted sail.Washed again and again as she pounded against the heavy seas, shebeat up for Gwyll Cove, her errand of mercy completed.
"Come on, lads," said Atherton. "We must be getting back to camp."
Two by two the "Otters" were hoisted to the top of the cliffs,whither the last of the men rescued by the Scouts had preceded them.Breaking into a run, for their work and subsequent wait in thesalt-laden atmosphere had chilled them to the bone, the lads madetheir way towards their temporary home.
Presently Phillips overtook his Leader.
"Don't stop," he panted. "Wait till I fall back a bit and then lookat the left side of the ruins. There's some one watching us."
Atherton followed this advice. Standing close to the ruined chapelry,and clearly defined against the skyline, was a figure that the ladrecognised as Paul Tassh, the butler at Polkerwyck House.
"How on earth did the fellow get to the Island?" thought the Leader."It has been much too rough since yesterday evening for a boat to putacross."
When he again glanced in the direction of the ruins, Tassh was nolonger to be seen.
On first thoughts Atherton felt inclined to get both patrols tosurround the man, for the Scout felt now perfectly convinced that hewas the mysterious visitor to the Tea Caves. But, after all, SirSilas Gwinnear's butler had as much, if not more, right to be on SealIsland than they had. The man's presence was certainly suspicious,but until he was actually detected in an act that would justify theScouts taking strong measures, Atherton felt it advisable to lie lowbut at the same time keep his eyes and ears open.
The Tenderfoots had done their task right well, for upon arriving atthe camp the other Scouts found that not only had the rescued menbeen provided with hot coffee and food but there was a liberal supplyfor the lads who had toiled so hard in their act of rescue.
The shipwrecked mariners were almost too overjoyed to thank theiryouthful rescuers. For a long time they could only pat the Scouts onthe back and utter short, disjointed sentences of mingled admirationand thanks.
At last Atherton managed to learn the details of the disaster.
The wrecked vessel was the ss. _Polybus_, of Cardiff, homeward boundfrom Bilboa with a cargo of copper ore. In the fog she lost herbearings, and when the storm piped up and dispersed the mist shemistook the lighthouse on Beware Head for one farther down the coast.A blinding rain-squall shut out the loom of the shore, and ere itpassed away the _Polybus_ ran hard and fast aground on the ledges tothe south-west of Seal Island.
"Who is the owner of the ship!" asked Atherton, who was jotting downthe particulars in his note-book.
"Blest if I can tell you, sir," replied the seaman, who acted asspokesman. "Can any of you, mates?"
"Not I. S'long as I gets my dibs paid every month 'taint no businesso' mine to know who the owners be."
The others replied in a similar strain, and for the time beingAtherton was compelled to leave the answer to this question a blank.
"There's no getting across to the mainland to-day," said Atherton."It has left off raining and we may have a chance of drying some ofour clothes. You men will have to stay with us till the sea moderatessufficiently for us to put you ashore at Polkerwyck. We can let youhave the use of a tent, and there's food enough to last us all forsome days."
Although it was now fine, and there were occasional bursts ofsunshine between the masses of swiftly driving clouds, the windhowled as loudly as ever. Nevertheless the Scouts were able to starta large fire, in front of which they and their involuntary guestsdried their clothes.
Atherton's mind was fairly centred on the appearance of Tassh on theIsland, and while the others were occupied he crossed over to wherePhillips was standing with a pile of dried clothing under his arm.
"I say," he remarked. "Did you notice where the man went to? Did hego into the ruins?"
"No, he walked towards the shaft leading to Dollar Cove," replied theSecond of the "Otters." "Baker spotted him and waved his staff andthat made the man disappear sharp enough."
"Baker was a bit of a donkey to attract attention like that," saidAtherton. "But I mean to find out----"
"Atherton, there's a man coming this way," announced TenderfootSayers.
The Leader looked up. Approaching the camp was Paul Tassh.
The butler walked with short, jerky steps. His right shoulder wasslightly higher than the other. His face showed that he was badly inneed of a shave, for the lower part beneath his side whiskers wascovered with a thick stubble.
"Good-morning, young gentlemen," he exclaimed, with a forced air ofjauntiness.
"Good-morning," replied Atherton politely, as was his wont, althoughhe distrusted the man.
"If I may be so bold as to ask, sir," continued the butler, "I shouldlike a snack of something to eat. I've had nothing since yesterday
morning."
"I think we can manage that all right," said Atherton. "What hashappened to you, then?"
"Oh, I might just as well explain," said the man between themouthfuls of bread and cold meat that the Scouts gave him. "My nameis Todd--John Brazenose Todd. I am a stranger in these parts, havingbeen staying in a cottage just outside Polkerwyck. Yesterday morningI thought I would like to visit the Island, so I hired a boat andlanded. Before I could return the fog came on, and afterwards theterrible storm. Being of a retiring disposition I did not like tointrude, so I kept away from your camp and took refuge in yon ruins.But a man cannot fail to be hungry on two or three biscuits intwenty-four hours."
Atherton nodded. He knew, as did his fellow Scouts, that the fellow'sstory was a tissue of lies from beginning to end, and he wondered athis audacity when he could not have failed to notice the Scoutspassing the post-office at noon on the preceding day. Atherton's onlyfear was that some of the Scouts might feel inclined to "chip in andgive the show away"; but to his relief the lads left all the talkingon their side to their Leader.
"There's not much to see on the Island," he remarked. "I suppose youknow there was a wreck, and those men over there are some of thecrew?"
"A wreck? 'Pon my word I didn't," replied Tassh. "Truth to tell Imust have been sound asleep in the ruin. Never heard a sound. Whenwas it?"
"At daybreak this morning," announced Atherton. "You must have beensound asleep if you failed to hear guns."
Paul Tassh finished his meal in silence, furtively eyeing the Scoutswith a supercilious smile on his thin, bloodless lips.
"They're too jolly well taken up with fooling about to trouble me,"he soliloquised. "All the same they are a confounded nuisance on theIsland. Still, since my retreat is cut off, the only thing to be doneis to put up with them. A fine yarn I'll have to pitch up when I getback to the House."
Meanwhile Phillips and Simpson had been busily engaged in signallingthe names of the rescued men to the coastguard station at RefugePoint, and a request that a boat should be sent, if possible, to takethe men off the Island.
To this the chief officer of coastguards replied:
"Well done, Scouts. We will put off as soon as the weather moderates.There is still too much sea running in Seal Bay."
It was not until five o'clock that afternoon that a temporary lulloccurred, and with the utmost promptitude boats were launched fromPolkerwyck besides one from the coastguard station.
"There be a telegraf for you, sir," announced Peter Varco, who wasthe first to land on the Island.
Atherton took the envelope. The message was brief and to the point:"Scoutmaster Buckley arrives Wadebridge Station 8.15 P.M. Send Scoutsto meet him. Hope all well, Trematon."
"Everest and Baker," explained their Leader, "our temporaryScoutmaster, Mr Buckley, is coming by the 8.15 train. Mr Trematon haswired the information, and has asked me to send some Scouts to meetMr Buckley. So get some one to put you across, proceed to Wadebridgeas quickly as you can, and wait there till the Scoutmaster arrives.Hulloa! Where's that fellow, Tassh?"
Mr Tassh, _alias_ Todd, was nowhere to be seen. Unnoticed in theexcitement of the arrival of the boats, he had slipped off to thelanding-place. There he told a portion of his plausible tale to oldRoger Tregaskis. He knew that it would be hopeless to stick to thename of Todd, since he was well known to the inhabitants ofPolkerwyck, but the yarn of how he had been cut of by the fog wentdown well enough, and old Tregaskis was profuse in his sympatheticexpressions, and promptly offered to row Mr Tassh across to themainland in order that he might keep an important engagement atPolkerwyck House.
"Good on you, lads!" exclaimed the chief officer of coastguards. "Andwithout a rocket apparatus, too. Well, you did the lifeboat mennearly in the eye, this time."
"I don't know about that, sir," replied Atherton. "You see, wecouldn't get the last three men off the wreck, and if the lifeboathadn't turned up in the nick of time they would have been lost."
"All the same you were jolly plucky. I am proud to meet you, lads.Don't forget, if you've time to give us a look up at the station,we'll do our best to let you have a right good time."
"Thank you, sir," replied Atherton. "We will be very pleased to visityour station. We went to the lighthouse yesterday, and fully intendedto ask whether we might visit the coastguard at Refuge Point sometime next week."
"And by the by," said the coastguard officer at parting, "I supposeyou know that any cargo or gear that comes ashore is to be handedover to the custody of the Receiver of Wrecks? I was going to leave acouple of hands to keep a look-out, but I guess you're quite capableand willing to do that part of the business. If you should see anyonetampering with the wreck after the gale moderates, just signal to us,and we'll stop their little game."
"Very good, sir," replied Atherton then, as the weird noises that hadso puzzled the Scouts during their all-night vigil commenced again,he asked, "What is that sound, sir?"
"A bit of a startler when you're not used to it, eh? That is thenoise made by the blowing-holes on the south-west side of the Island.In rough weather, and at certain states of the tide, the waves forceconfined air through several small fissures in the hollows of therocks. It's well worth seeing."
The various boats returned to the mainland with the rescued men,Everest and Baker having been given a passage in Peter Varco's craft,and once more Seal Island was untenanted save by the Scouts, therabbits, and the countless seabirds.
"Thank goodness we've a chance to have a good sleep," ejaculatedSimpson, with a sigh of utter weariness. "All the same I should liketo know how came Paul Tassh on Seal Island."