Cormorant Crag Part 33

"The stuff has all run out or evaporated," he said. "Hark here!"

He tapped the end of one with his knuckles, but, instead of giving forth a hollow sound, the top sounded dead and dull.

"They're not empty," he said, giving one a shake: "they must be packed full of something light. And I say, Mike, they look as if they couldn't be many years old."

"That's because the cavern's so clean and dry. Let's look at the packages. I say, smell this one. There's no mistake about it--cloves!"

Vince nodded, and they tried others, which gave out, some the same unmistakable odour, others those of cinnamon and nutmeg.

Further examination of some small, heavy, solid packets left little doubt in the lads' minds that they were dealing with closely folded or rolled pieces of silk, and they ended their examination by trying to interpret the brands with which some of the packages were marked.

"One can't be sure without opening them," said Vince eagerly; "but I feel certain that these are silk, the other packages spice, and the kegs have got gloves and lace in them. There are two kinds."

"Yes; some are larger than the others. Shall we open a few of them, to see if they've been destroyed by time?"

"No, not yet," replied Vince thoughtfully. "Let's go and have a look at that boat sail and the oars. Those oars ought to be old and worm-eaten--ready to tumble to pieces--and the sail-cloth like so much tinder!"

Mike nodded, and followed him rather unwillingly; for the keg nearest to his hand fascinated him, and he longed intensely to force out the head.

It was not many steps to where the boat gear stood and lay, and Vince began to haul it about after the first glance.

"Look here, Ladle!" he cried; "these things are not so very old. The canvas is as strong as can be, and it can't be so many years since these oars were marked with a hot iron."

"Oh, nonsense!" said Mike, who did not like to give up his cherished ideas; "it's because they're so dry and safe here."

"It isn't," said Vince impetuously; "and look here, at all these footmarks!"

"Well, what's to prevent them from being just the same after a hundred years?"

"The wind," cried Vince. "If those marks were old the sand would have drifted in and covered them over quite smooth, same as the floor was in our cave before we walked about it. Mike, all these things are quite new, and haven't been put here long."

"Nonsense! who could have put them?"

"I don't know; but here they are, and if we don't look out some one will come and catch us. This is a smugglers' cave."

"But there are no smugglers here. Who ever heard of smugglers at the Crag!"

"I never did; but I'm sure these are smuggled goods."

"Well, I don't know," said Mike. "It seems very queer. The cave can't be so dangerous to come to, if boats can land cargoes. Old Daygo's all wrong, then?"

"Of course he is; so are all the people. Every one has told us that the Black Scraw was a terrible place, and looked as if they thought it was haunted by all kinds of sea goblins. Let's get away."

"Think we'd better?"

"Yes; I keep expecting to see a boat come round the corner into sight.

I shouldn't like to be here when they did come."

"But it's so disappointing!" cried Mike. "I thought we were going to have all this to ourselves."

"I don't think I did," said Vince thoughtfully.

"But I don't believe you're right, Cinder. These things can't have been put here in our time, or we must have known of it. See what a little place the Crag is."

"Yes, it's small enough, but the Scraw has always been as if it were far away, and people could come here and do what they liked."

"But they wouldn't be so stupid as to come here and leave things for n.o.body," said Mike. "Is there anybody here who would want them?"

"No," replied Vince; "but smugglers might make this a sort of storehouse, and some bring the things here from France and Holland and others come and fetch them away. There, come on, and let's get up into the crack. I don't feel safe. It has regularly spoiled our place, though, for whoever comes here must know of the other cave."

"Well," said Mike, as they stood by the rope, and he gazed longingly back at the rich store he was about to leave behind, "I'll come; but I don't believe you're right."

"You'll soon see that I am, Ladle; for before long all these things will be taken away--perhaps by the time we come again."

"If it's as you say we shan't be able to come again," replied Mike rather dolefully; and then, in obedience to an impatient sign from his companion, he took hold of the rope and climbed slowly up, pa.s.sing in at the opening, and being followed by Vince directly after.

Then the rope was drawn up and coiled, and both took a long and envious look at the cargo that had been landed there at some time or other, before making their way along the fissure to their own place.

"I don't believe any one would do as we've done, and come along there,"

said Mike, as soon as they were safely back. "Perhaps, if you're right about that stuff being new, these smuggling people don't, after all, know of this cave."

"They must have seen it when they were going and coming in their boat, and would have been sure to land and come in."

"Land where?" said Mike scornfully. "No boat could land here, and n.o.body could wade in, on account of the quicksands. But I'm right, Cinder. These things are awfully old, and they'll be ours after all."

"Very well: we shall see," said Vince. "But I don't feel disposed to stop here now. Let's get back home."

"Yes," said Mike, with a sigh, "let's get back home;" and, after setting up a fresh bit of candle, they started for the inner cave, ascended the slope, and made their way along the black pa.s.sage to the spot where they put out and hid their lanthorn.

This done, with the caution taught by the desire to keep their hiding-place secret, Vince stepped softly on to the opening, and was about to pa.s.s along to the end, but he paused to peer out through the briars to see if all was right, and the next moment he stood there as if turned to stone. Mike crept up to him and touched his shoulder, feeling sure from his companion's fixed att.i.tude that something must be wrong.

The answer to his touch was the extension of Vince's hand, and he pointed upward and toward the side of the deep rift.

Mike turned his head softly, and gazed in the indicated direction. For some moments he could see nothing for the briars and ferns; but at last he bent a trifle more forward, and his fists clenched, for there, upon one of the stones beside the entrance to their cave, with his hand shading his eyes, and staring upward apparently at the ridge, was Carnach junior.

"Spying after us," said Mike to himself; "and he does not know that we are close to his feet."

CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

SOME DOUBTS ABOUT THE DISCOVERY.

Certainly Lobster did not know how near the two boys were, and he soon proved it by coming closer, looking down, and then turning to reconnoitre in another direction.

Vince stared at Mike, and their eyes simultaneously said the same thing: "He must have been watching us, and seen us come in this direction."

It was evident that he had soon lost the clue in following them, although, judging from circ.u.mstances, he must have tracked them close to where they were.