Johnstone of the Border

Andrew noted that his voice was faint and strained, and he felt disturbed when he saw how helpless the boy was when with some trouble they lifted him through the narrow scuttle and put him down on the floorings.

"Don't talk any more," Andrew said; and turned to the fisherman. "Scull her off to the yacht as fast as possible!"

They were alongside in a few minutes and soon had Dick on a locker in the cabin.

"Give me some whisky," he gasped. "I think I'm pretty bad."

"We'll soon run up the Firth and put you in a doctor's hands," Andrew replied, as he held a glass to his lips.

Dick drained it, and then was silent for a minute or two.

"Andrew," he said finally, "there's something to talk about. You see, I'm not sure I'll get over this."

"Rot!" Andrew exclaimed gruffly, trying to hide his alarm. "You've been as bad before."

"No; not quite. But wait – "

Dick closed his eyes, and Andrew saw his fears reflected in Whitney's look. Dick's face was chalky-white and haggard, and they noted his labored breathing.

The tide splashed against the yacht's planks, the halyards had begun to tap against the mast, and there was a sharp rattle of blocks as the fisherman hoisted sail. They let him go and sat watching Dick from the opposite locker. Presently he looked up.

"Think I can talk a bit now. You'll have Appleyard, Andrew, if I don't get well. There's nothing to be said about that, because you'll look after it much better than I should have done. Still, you'll keep the old hands until you can pension them; and there's Bob, my old pony – I shouldn't like him sold."

"You're taking too much for granted, Dick," Andrew replied. "You knocked yourself out in hurrying down here to warn me, but you'll be all right again in a few days."

"I know you hope so. It's possible, too; but we'll get things straightened up. Of course, Appleyard is Mrs. Woodhouse's home – she's not responsible for her brother, you know. Elsie will keep everything right unless she marries." Dick paused and looked at Andrew with a feeble smile. "She may, you know."

Andrew turned his head, and after a minute, Dick went on:

"I'd like my debts paid off, but the estate must not be robbed. If you open my desk, you'll find an old pocket-book. It will show you what I actually got. Pin them down to that. Now give me a little more whisky."

Dick rested for a short while before he continued.

"You see, I did get their money, though not all that the notes called for – and they'll have some trouble about the insurance."

"Ah!" Andrew interrupted. "How's that? But you'd better not bother about it now."

"I may not be able to bother later," Dick smiled. "When I got the doctor's warning I was very hard up, so I went to the insurance people and asked how much they'd let me have if I surrendered the policy. Well, though they asked a lot of questions, we didn't come to terms. It seemed the other fellows were entitled to benefit; but something wasn't straight and I think the office will dispute their claim. I felt amused about it now and then; but they mustn't lose what they really lent."

"I'll see to that," said Andrew, "Now, you lie quiet and Whitney will look after you while I take her up the Firth. A doctor must see you as soon as possible. Perhaps it will help things if you can go to sleep."

Andrew went on deck, and after weighing anchor and making sail he sat at the helm, lost in disturbing thought, while the Rowan stood up-channel.

CHAPTER XXX

THE NET

It was a calm, dark night and the trawler's engines ran at half speed as she closed with the land. The badge of a British steam-fishing company was painted on her funnel, and a correct registration number appeared in bold, white figures on her bows; but she carried no lights and her crew were not Englishmen. Ahead, formless black hillsides faded into the gloom, but the skipper, provided with the latest Admiralty chart, knew his bearings and the leadsman had found the depth of water he expected.

A plume of vapor trailed away from her escape-pipe, for, as she moved slowly shoreward with the flood, the engines could not take all the steam it was prudent to raise. After a time, a light twinkled upon the unseen beach, went out, and shone again; and the skipper, ordering another cast of the lead, made a quick calculation. The tide would rise for an hour yet and there was already two feet more water than his vessel drew in the channel he must enter. Then the lookout reported a buoy ahead, and he rang his telegraph for more speed. He was in the channel now and another buoy farther on would warn him of the only dangerous bend. He was anxious to pick up his cargo and get to sea again.

Moving shoreward faster, the vessel faded into the gloom of the land; but the beat of engines and the splash of displaced water travel far on a calm night, and men with keen ears were listening for these sounds on board a powerful steam-launch two miles away. She traveled at a moderate speed, towing a big, white gig filled with coastguards, but her crew were navy men. A smart young lieutenant held the wheel, trying to remember the soundings, bearings, and courses he had studied so carefully. They were hard to check, particularly as the flood-tide swept him along, but he was glad to remember that three feet of water was enough for him.

Presently he stopped the engine and listened. At first, he could hear only the ripple of the tide across some hidden shoal and the wash of the languid swell upon the invisible beach; but after a time a measured thud came out of the distance, and he knew that it was the beat of a steamer's screw.

"Between us and the land, I think," he said.

"Yes, sir; about two miles off," agreed the second officer.

"Then she must be going up the gutter, because there's not a fathom on the banks. We'll go ahead; there's enough water anywhere for us."

The launch swung round on a different course when her engines began to clank, and a man sounded now and then as they ran for the shoals. The lieutenant hardly expected to follow the channel; his object was to keep within hearing of the other vessel, and, if he were lucky, his work would be finished before the tide ebbed much. Suddenly a sharp, pulsatory roar came out of the dark.

"It looks as if she were on the ground and carrying plenty steam," he said, when he had ordered the engines to be stopped. "As they'll no doubt back her off, we'll wait a while, to give them time to ship their cargo."

For the next few minutes the crews of launch and gig listened eagerly. They knew that when the vessel ran aground the steam her stopped engines could not use had blown off. The roar died away, as was to be expected, when the machinery was restarted, hard-astern, but now that the immobility of the stranded craft increased the resistance, the thud of the screw was louder. Presently, it changed to a steady beat that drew away from them; and they knew she had got afloat and was steaming up-channel.

"Easy all, for half an hour!" said the lieutenant, looking at his watch.

The boats lay close together, rolling gently on the languid swell, while the men sat in relaxed attitudes and talked in low voices. Still, there was a feeling of suppressed excitement and it was a relief when their officer grasped the wheel.

"Let her go at half speed!" he ordered.

The tow-rope tightened as the gig swung into line astern, and they moved steadily toward the land for some time. Then they heard a roar of steam again, louder than before and continuous, and the lieutenant signed to the engineer.

"Full speed! We have her now!"

The water hissed along the planks, the gig lifted her bows on a surging wave, and the wash of the screw ran far astern. A blurred object grew out of the darkness in front of them, and then the officer called to the coastguards:

"Cast off and get to your work! Burn a flare if you want us!"

A rope fell into the water, the engines stopped, and there was a rattle of oars as the gig drove by. They fell with a simultaneous splash, and their regular thud receded as she swept up-channel while the launch's crew waited.

In a few minutes the sound stopped. There were alarmed shouts and hoarse orders; while the roar of steam continued. Then the beat of oars began again. The boat came back slowly, with two men pulling, and ran alongside the launch.

"You don't seem to have had much trouble," the lieutenant remarked.

"We hadn't, sir," answered a coastguard officer. "They were busy and didn't hear us until we'd got our boat-hook on her rail. Only one of them drew a pistol and he was knocked down. We'll land them and leave a guard on board when she's moored.'"

"Very well, if we can't take her to Barrow this tide?"

The coastguard laughed.

"So far as I could see, there's a big piece of flounder-net wrapped round her propeller and trailing about her aft. It has an unusually thick head-rope, and some lengths of iron pipe are jambed between the blades and the rudder. The fellow who set the net made a good job. We'll have trouble in cutting it loose when she dries."

"Did you find much oil?"

"About a boat-load of heavy drums, which had just been thrown on deck. We got the boat and I guess our fellows ashore have seized another lot. However, here are your two men. I don't think you'll do much with the skipper, but the other seems less obstinate."