Sturdy and Strong: or, How George Andrews Made His Way

"She will put out if a hurricane's blowing," the Frenchman said. "Zey know ze importance of ze news, which is expected, and which I am bringing zem. Mon Dieu! what sums have been paid to get ze news zat's in zis little dispatch!"

"Do you know what it is?" the smuggler said.

"Not for certain," the Frenchman replied, "but I believe it is ze orders zat are to be sent to ze British fleet, and zat zey are about to strike a great blow zomewhere."

"Well," the smuggler said, "I will go round and tell the boys. I warned them to be in readiness, and I will send them straight down to the beach. In a quarter of an hour I will return for you."

While this conversation had been going on Harry had been standing against the porch, the sides of which were filled with latticework over which a creeper grew. He had been frightened at the importance of the secret that he was hearing, and had been rapidly meditating in his mind how this all-portant information which was about to be conveyed to the enemy could be stopped. He had made up his mind that the instant the smuggler moved out he would make his way down to the village, tell the tale to half a dozen men, and have the Frenchman seized. He saw at once that it would be difficult, for the smuggler and his gang were not men to be attacked with impunity, and the fishers of the village would hesitate in taking part in such a struggle merely on the information of a boy. However, Harry saw that it was the only chance.

In his anxiety to stand close to the lattice and so hide himself from the view of the two men who were standing on the little garden-path in front, he pressed too hard against it. The woodwork was rotten with age, and suddenly with a crash it gave way.

With an oath the smuggler turned round, and he and the Frenchman dashed to the spot, and in an instant had collared the lad. In a moment he was dragged into the room.

"We must cut his throat, mounseer," the smuggler said, with a terrible imprecation. "The scoundrel has heard what we've said, and our lives won't be worth a minute's purchase if he were to be let free. Stand by and I'll knock out his brains;" and he seized a heavy poker from the side of the hearth.

"No, no," the Frenchman said, "don't let us have blood. Zere might be inquiries, and zese sings will sometimes be found. Better take him to sea wis you in ze Lucy, and hand him over to ze Chasse Marée. Zey will take care zat he does not come back again."

"I will take care myself," the smuggler said. "I'm not going to risk my neck on the chance of his blabbing. It's better, as you say, to have no blood, but as soon as the Lucy's at sea overboard he goes."

"We can talk of it," the Frenchman said. "I'm wis you zat he must be silenced, but it may be better – my plan zan yours. Zis boy belongs, I suppose, to ze village?"

"Yes," the smuggler said, "I know him by sight. He's the son of an old man-of-war's man who lives half a mile away."

"Well, you see, some of your men might some day, if they quarreled wis you, or in zeir drink, drop some words which might lead to inquiries. Better put him on board ze Chasse Marée. I will see ze matter is settled."

Harry had spoken no word from the time he was grasped. He felt in an instant that his life was forfeited, and was surprised that he had not been instantly killed. He had not raised his voice to hallo, for he knew that no cottagers were near, and was sure that an attempt to give the alarm would insure his instant death. To struggle would have been useless. He was unarmed, and although a stout lad, was but a child in the grasp of a powerful man like the smuggler. He saw, too, that on the instant the Frenchman had drawn a dagger from his breast, and though more quiet than the smuggler he felt by the tone of his voice that he was as determined as his colleague that his silence should be secured by death.

In another minute he was bound and thrown into a corner. The Frenchman then took his seat near him, assuring him in a low tone that he would at his first movement plant his dagger in his heart. The smuggler strolled off to summon his crew, and for a quarter of an hour silence reigned in the cottage.

"You are one fool," the Frenchman said at last, as if he had been thinking the matter over – "one meddlesome fool. Why you want to listen at people's doors and learn zeir secrets? I don't want to kill you, but what are we to do? You make us kill you. You push your own head into ze trap. Zat is ze way wis boys. Zey are forever meddling in affairs zat concern zem not, and zen we have ze trouble to kill zem. I would give a hundred pounds if zis had not happened; but what can I do? It is my life against yours, and alzough I am sorry to have to do it —parbleu! my life is of much more value zan zat of a fishing boy. Bah! you are one meddlesome fool."

So exasperated was the Frenchman at the trouble which the prying of this lad had brought upon him that he got up and angrily gave him a kick. A few minutes later the smuggler returned.

"The men have all gone down to the boat," he said briefly. "Come along, mounseer. Bring that tin case with you, and those pistols."

"Zere is no fear zat I forget ze tin case," the Frenchman said. "As to ze pistols – zey are not of much use. However, I will take zem;" and he thrust them into the pockets of his coat.

The smuggler stooped, picked up Harry, threw him onto a sail which he had laid on the ground, wrapped this round him, and then cast him over his shoulder.

"I'm not likely to meet anyone on my way to the boat," he said, "but should I do so I'm taking the mainsail of the Lucy down to her."

In another minute Harry heard the door slam, and then he felt himself being carried steadily along, his weight being as nothing to the smuggler. Not a word was spoken between the two men on their way down to the shore. Presently Harry felt by the deadened sound of the footsteps, and by the more uneven motion, that he was being carried over the sandy slopes down to the edge of the sea, and through the canvas he could hear the loud roar of the waves, which were now breaking violently.

Presently he was flung roughly down on the sands. A minute later he was lifted by the head and feet, and swung into a boat. Not a word was spoken as it was shoved off through the breakers, and after ten minutes' hard rowing he felt a shock, and knew that they were alongside of the Lucy. He was hauled up on deck. He heard a few words of command, and then felt the vessel was on her way. A minute or two later the covering was unloosed. His cords were cut, and the smuggler said to him, "You can't get away now, and may as well make yourself handy for the present. Give a haul on that rope."

The Lucy was, in fact, short-handed, two of the six men who composed her crew being absent. She was a lugger of some twenty-five tons' burden, built something like an ordinary fishing-boat, but longer and lower, and was, in fact, used for fishing when her crew were not engaged upon other adventures. She was a remarkably fast craft, and had more than once showed her heels with success when chased by the revenue cutters. She owed her immunity from capture, however, chiefly to her appearance, as from her size and build she generally passed unsuspected as an innocent fisherman.

The storm increased in violence, and the little lugger, although a good sea-boat, had difficulty in making her way almost in the teeth of the gale. She was bound, Harry gained from a word or two dropped by the captain, for the mouth of the Loire, off which she was to be met by the Chasse Marée. Long before morning the coast of England was out of sight, and the lugger was struggling down Channel bravely holding her way in the sou'westerly gale.

"Will she be zere true to her time?" the Frenchman asked the smuggler.

"Aye, she will do it," Black Jack said, "if the wind holds as at present. Two o'clock in the morning is the time named, and if your people are as punctual as I shall be, the five hundred pounds will be gained. There's one thing – in such a gale as is blowing to-day none of our cruisers who may be off the coast are likely to trouble themselves about a boat like ours. They may wonder what we are doing at sea, but are scarcely likely to chase us."

Once or twice in the course of the day large vessels were seen in the distance, which Harry knew, by the cut of their sails, to be English cruisers. All were, however, lying-to under the smallest canvas, and Harry knew that any assistance from them was out of the question. Towards evening the gale moderated, but the sea was still very high. During the day Harry had turned over in his mind every possible plan by which he might destroy the tin case which contained, as he knew, such important documents. From what he had gathered he learned that the success of some great undertaking upon which the British fleet were about to embark would be marred if these papers were to find their way into the hands of the French authorities. His own life he regarded as absolutely forfeited, for he was sure that no sooner was he fairly on board the French Chasse Marée than he would, at the orders of the French spy, be thrown overboard, and that his life had been so preserved, not from any feeling of mercy, but in order that his death might be accomplished with less risk to those whose safety demanded it.

He was determined, if opportunity presented, to seize the little case and to leap overboard with it. The French spy never for one moment put it down. It was a small tin case, with a handle at the top, and some eight inches long by three inches wide, and the same deep. Sometimes the Frenchman put it in his pocket, beyond which it projected, but even then he took the precaution always to keep his hand upon it. During the day Harry was constantly employed in work on board the lugger, hauling at ropes and acting as if he were one of the regular crew. He had shared in the meals with the men, but beyond a curse now and then not a word had been addressed to him by any on board. The night came on; the wind was still going down, but the sea was very heavy. From the occasional rifts in the clouds the stars could be seen shining brightly, and once or twice the moon broke through and spread a light over the angry sea. As time went on the smuggler became anxious, and kept a keen lookout ahead.

"It is past two," he exclaimed presently to the Frenchman, "and we are nearly off the mouth of the river. When the moon shone out just now I thought I caught sight of a vessel coming out, and I believe to windward an English cruiser is lying. However, I will get ready the lanterns."

The next time the moon came out a vessel was clearly seen. The smuggler raised the lantern above the bulwarks, held it there for half a minute, and then lowered it. This he repeated three times. A moment later a similar signal was made on the bows of the vessel.

"That's her," the smuggler exclaimed exultingly, "and the five hundred pounds is as good as in my pocket!"

As he spoke a bright flash was seen to windward.

"Confound it!" the smuggler said, "that cruiser has caught sight of the Frenchman. However, we shall be on board in plenty of time, and whether she gets safe to shore or not matters not much to me. I shall have done my part of the work, and you, mounseer, will give me the order for payment on London."

"It's done, my friend," the Frenchman said; "you've done your work well. Here's the order."

By this time the French craft was within a distance of a quarter of a mile, running down at a great pace under her reefed sails.

"It'll be no easy matter to get on board," the smuggler said, "for the sea is running tremendously. They will have to throw a rope, and you will have to catch it, mounseer, and jump overboard. I suppose your dispatch-box is water-tight?"

"And the boy?" the Frenchman asked.

"Let them throw another rope," the smuggler said, "and you can haul him on board too. It won't make much matter whether I slip the noose round his body or his neck. The last will be the easiest plan perhaps, for then, if he happens not to be alive when you pull him out, it would be an accident; and even if anyone chooses to peach, they can't swear that it was purposely done."

Harry was standing near, and heard the words. He was close to the helm at the time, and watched with intense anxiety as the Chasse Marée ran rapidly down to them. It was clear that what had to be done must be done quickly, for another flash came up from the cruiser; and although in the din of the wind and the toss of the waves it could not be seen where her shot had fallen, the brightness of the flash showed that she had come up since the last shot was discharged. The Chasse Marée ran down, and as she came her captain stood upon the bulwarks and shouted at the top of his voice "Keep her steady, and as I run past I will throw a rope."

"Throw two," Black Jack shouted. "There are two to come on board."

The course taken by the Chasse Marée would bring her along at a distance of some ten yards from the side of the lugger. At the moment a squall came, and the lugger's head turned a little towards the approaching craft. When she was just upon them Harry saw that his one chance of escape had come. With a sudden rush he knocked the man at the helm from his footing, and put the tiller up hard. The lugger paid off instantly. Black Jack, with an oath, turned round and sprang at Harry. The lad leaped beneath his uplifted hand, sprang at the Frenchman, who was standing with his back to him, and snatching the tin box from his hand leaped overboard.

Momentary as had been his hold upon the tiller it had been sufficient. The vessel had paid off from the wind, and before the helmsman could regain his feet, or Black Jack could seize the tiller, she lay across the course of the Chasse Marée; and in another moment the French craft plunged down upon her, and with a crash the Lucy sank under her bows, and went down with all on board.

As Harry sank beneath the waves he heard a shout of dismay from those on board the Lucy. When he came up a minute later he saw the Chasse Marée plowing her way from him, but no sign of the Lucy was to be seen. Harry was a good swimmer, and fortunately the dispatch-box which he grasped was water-tight, and buttoning it within his jacket he felt that it kept his head easily above the water. He swam as well as he could away from the spot where the Lucy had disappeared, for he knew that if Black Jack or the Frenchman had escaped being run down and should see him, his death was certain – not indeed that his chances were in any case good, but with the natural hopefulness of boyhood he clung to life, and resolved to make a fight for it as long as possible. Had it not been for the dispatch-box he must have speedily succumbed, for in so heavy a sea it was difficult in the extreme to swim. However, after a short time he turned his back to the wind, and suffered himself quietly to drift.

Hour passed after hour, and at last, to his intense delight, morning began to break. He saw on his right the low shores of the French coast, and looking round beheld seaward the British cruiser which had fired at the Chasse Marée. She was running quietly along the coast, and was evidently on guard at the mouth of the river. The sea had now gone down much, and the sun rose bright in an almost cloudless sky.

Invigorated by the sight of the vessel Harry at once swam towards her. She was farther out by a mile than the spot where he was swimming, and was some two miles astern of him. She was sailing but slowly, and he hoped that by the time she came along he would be able to get within a distance whence he might be seen. His fear was that she might run back before she reached the spot where she would be nearer to him.

With all his strength he swam steadily out, keeping his eye fixed steadily on the ship. Still she came onward, and was within half a mile when she was abreast of him. Then raising himself as high as he could from the water, he shouted at the top of his voice. Again and again he splashed with his hands to make as much spray and commotion as possible in order to attract attention. His heart almost stood still with joy as he heard an answering hail, and a moment later he saw the vessel come round into the wind, and lay there with her sails back. Then a boat was lowered, and five minutes later he was hauled in, his senses almost leaving him now that the time for exertion had passed. It was not until he had been lifted onto the deck of the Viper, and brandy had been poured down his throat, that he was able to speak. As soon as he was sufficiently recovered he was sent for to the captain's cabin.

"And who are you, boy, and whence do you come?" the captain asked. "Do you belong to the Chasse Marée, which we chased in the night?"

The officer spoke in French, supposing that Harry had fallen overboard from that craft.

"I am English, sir," Harry said, "and escaped from a lugger which was run down by the French craft just as you were firing at her."