Cormorant Crag Part 35

For a few moments he could not be sure whether the young fisherman was looking in their direction, or away; from them; but a movement on the part of the lad set this at rest directly after, and they saw him go slowly on, helping himself by clutching at the saw-like row of jagged stones which divided one slope from the other; and, satisfied that they had not been seen, they recommenced their crawl, till they reached the cover of a pile of the loose rocks, which were pretty well covered with growth.

Placing this between them and the lad, now far away upon the ridge, they made for the cover of the stunted oaks, and there breathed freely.

Mike was the first to speak, and he began just as if his companion had the moment before made his impatient remarks about the adventure not being worth the trouble.

"I don't know," he said. "This is the first time we have had any bother, and I don't see why we should give such a jolly place up just because that thick-headed old Lobster came watching us."

"Ah! but that isn't all," said Vince. "We can't go down there any more, on account of the smugglers."

"But I don't believe you are right. Those things looked new, I know; but they must be as old as old, for if any smuggling had been going on here we must have seen or heard of it."

"But the sand--the sand! Those footprints must be new."

"I don't see it," said Mike, rather stubbornly. "Because the wind blows into one cave and drifts the light sand all over, that's no reason why it should do so in another cave, which may be regularly sheltered."

"It's no good to argue with you," said Vince sourly, for he was weary and put out. "You can have it your own way, only I tell you this,-- smugglers don't stand any nonsense; they'll shoot at any one who tries to stop them or find out where they land cargoes, and we should look nice if they suddenly came upon us."

"People don't come suddenly on you when they've been dead a hundred years," replied Mike. "Now, just look here: we must do it as if we took no interest in it, but you ask your father to-night, and I'll ask mine, whether they ever heard of there being smugglers in the Crag."

"Well, I will," said Vince; "but you must do the same."

"Of course I shall; and we shall find that it must have been an enormous time ago, and that we've as good a right to those things as anybody, for they were brought there and then forgotten."

"Well, we shall see," said Vince; and that night, at their late tea, he started the subject with--

"Have you ever known any smugglers to be here, father?"

"Smugglers? No, Vince," said the Doctor, smiling. "There's nothing ever made here that would carry duty, for people to want to get it into England free; and on the other hand, it would not be of any use for smugglers to bring anything here, for there is no one to buy smuggled goods, such as they might bring from Holland or France."

Somewhere about the same time Mike approached the question at the old manor house.

"Smugglers, Mike?" said Sir Francis. "Oh no, my boy, we've never had smugglers here. The place is too dangerous, and perfectly useless to such people, for they land contraband goods only where they can find a good market for them. Now, if you had said pirates, I could tell you something different."

"Were there ever pirates, then?" cried Mike excitedly. Sir Francis laughed.

"It's strange," he said, "what interest boys always have taken in smugglers, pirates, and brigand stories. Why, you're as bad as the rest, boy! But there, I'm running away from your question. Yes, I believe there were pirates here at one time; but it is over a hundred years ago, and they were a crew of low, ruffianly scoundrels, who got possession of a vessel and lived for years by plundering the outward and inward bound merchantmen; and being on a fast sailing vessel they always escaped by running for sh.o.r.e, and from their knowledge of the rocks and currents they could sail where strangers dared not follow. But the whole history has been dressed up tremendously, and made romantic. It was said that they brought supernatural aid to bear in navigating their craft, and that they would sail right up to the Crag and then become invisible: people would see them one minute and they'd be gone the next."

"Hah!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Mike, and his father smiled. "All superst.i.tious nonsense, of course, my boy; but the ignorant people get hold of these traditions and believe in them. Mr Deane here will soon tell you how in history molehills got stretched up into mountains."

"Or s...o...b..a.l.l.s grew into historical avalanches," said the tutor.

"Exactly," said Sir Francis. "I fancy, Mike, that those people may have had a nest here. One of the men--Carnach I think it was--told me that they had a cave, and only sailed from it at night."

"Did he know where it was, father?"

"I remember now he said it was 'sumwers about,' which is rather vague; but still there are several holes on the west coast which might have been made habitable; though I have never seen such a cave on the island, nor even one that could have been serviceable as a store."

Mike winced a little, for he fully expected to hear his father say "Have you?" But then Sir Francis went off to another subject, and the boy nursed up his ideas ready for his next meeting with Vince, which was on the following day.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

PIRATES OR SMUGGLERS? HOW TO PROVE IT.

"Pirates, Cinder!"

Mike was down at the gate waiting for Vince to come with his roll of exercises, ready for the morning's work; and as soon as Vince came within earshot he fired off the word that he had been dreaming about all night--

"Pirates!"

"Where?" cried Vince, looking sharply round and out to sea.

"Get out! You know what I mean. It's pirates, not smugglers."

Vince stared at him for a few moments, and then burst out laughing.

"Well, you've got it this time," he said, "if you mean the cave."

"And I do," said Mike quietly. "Pirates; and that's some of the plunder and booty they took from a s.h.i.+p over a hundred years ago. So now whose will it be?"

"Stop a moment," said Vince, looking preternaturally serious; "let's be certain who it was. Let me see: there was Paul Jones, and Blackbeard, and the Buccaneers. What do you say to its having belonged to the Buccaneers?"

"Ah! you may laugh, but my father said last night that he never knew of smugglers being on the island, but that there was a story about pirates having a cave here, and going out in their vessel to plunder the outward and homeward bound merchantmen."

"Humph!" grunted Vince, with a sceptical look.

"And look here: he said the people had a superst.i.tious belief that the pirates used to sail towards the Crag, and then disappear."

"What!" cried Vince eagerly.

"Disappear quite suddenly."

"Behind that line of rocks when they sailed into the little cove, Mike?"

"To be sure. Now, then, why don't you laugh and sneer?" cried Mike.

"Does it sound so stupid now?"

"I don't know," said Vince, beginning to be dubious again.

"Then I do," said Mike warmly. "I never knew of such an unbelieving sort of chap as you are. There's the cave, and there's all the plunder in it--just such stuff as the pirates would get out of a s.h.i.+p homeward bound."

"Yes; but why did they leave it there and not sell it?"

"I know," cried Mike excitedly: "because one day they went out and attacked a s.h.i.+p so as to plunder her, and found out all at once that it was a man-o'-war; and as soon as the man-o'-war's captain found out that they were pirates he had all the guns double-shotted, and gave the order to fire a broadside, and sank the pirate."

"That's the way," said Vince, laughing; "and the pirate captain ran up the rigging with a hammer and some tin-tacks, and nailed the colours to the mast."

"Ah! you may laugh," said Mike. "You're disappointed because you didn't find it out first. There it all is, as plain as plain. The people used to think the pirate vessel disappeared, because she sailed out of sight and used to lie in hiding till they wanted to attack another s.h.i.+p.