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"Then she may come. Pst!"
Hardly a breath could be heard then as ears were strained, and after a good deal of doubt had been felt, a kind of thrill ran through the men who had taken hold of a line fastened to a stanchion and lowered themselves down to the broad ledge.
The low, regular, slow beat of great sweeps became now audible, but though Ram strained his eyes seaward, nothing was visible for quite another ten minutes, when, as the boy stood at the brink of the upper ledge he dimly saw something darker than the mist coming into view.
Soon there came a faint crunching noise as of a fender being crushed against the rock, followed by the sound of ropes drawn over the bulwark, and Ram hesitated no longer, but ran to the loop, placed his leg through it, gave the signal by shaking the rope, and in an instant he was s.n.a.t.c.hed from his feet, run up, the rope drawn in, and he was landed on the turf.
A small bag of stones was then attached to the loop, the wheel spun round, and the bag went whizzing down, while the group of men stood waiting and waiting, for they could see nothing below, hardly see each other, so dense was the mist now.
Sundry familiar sounds arose from time to time, and more than once the farmer uttered an e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n full of impatience at the length of time taken up in bringing the vessel below and taking precautions to keep her from grinding and b.u.mping against the edge of the shelf, for though the sea was calm, there was the swell to contend with.
At last.
There was a murmur from below which those two hundred feet above knew well, and as two stood ready, another man by them took hold of the rope, and suddenly started off at a run, disappearing at once in the fog, while a peculiar whizzing sound was heard, as the little wheel in the block now ran round till all at once a couple of kegs and the bag of stones appeared level with the top of the cliff. These were seized, unhitched, and as the bag ran down, a man knelt, fitted a short rope about the kegs and hoisted them on his shoulder, just as the man who held the rope trotted up out of the fog into which the other with the kegs disappeared.
There was a faint hiss, and away ran the man again bringing the next two kegs up rapidly, to be set at liberty, slung, and hoisted on another man's back as the hauler came back out of the fog.
And so the unloading went on with marvellous rapidity, the hauler rus.h.i.+ng off into the fog, a couple of kegs coming up into sight, being taken out of the loops, slung and hoisted just as the hauler came back and the bearer disappeared, till quite a line of men were trudging slowly up the hill, down into the valley, and up again toward Sir Risdon Graeme's old house, the Hoze, till all the bearers were gone, and the kegs still kept coming up out of the fog.
The silence was astonis.h.i.+ng, considering the amount of work being done and the rapidity with which all went on. Away to left and right sentries were placed, from among the haulers who, as they grew tired by their exertions in running up the kegs, were placed there to rest and listen for danger from seaward; but hour after hour went on, the carriers, augmented by a dozen more, came and went in two bands now, so that part were returning as the others were going.
But still they were not in sufficient force, for the Hoze was some distance away, and the number of kegs kept increasing on the turf at the top of the cliff.
About half the cargo was landed when Shackle whispered an order to Ram, who at once stooped to pick up a keg.
"No, no; run without, and see that they store them all up well."
Ram was used to the business, and he went off at a trot, breasted the hill, dived down into the hollow, and then pa.s.sing men going and coming, made for the Hoze, entered by the side door, made his way along a stone pa.s.sage, and then down into a huge vault with groined roof lit by a couple of lanthorns hanging from hooks.
Here for the next three hours he worked hard, helping to stack the little brandy kegs at first, and afterwards the small tightly packed bales and chests which were brought more quickly now--a dozen of swarthy, dirty-looking men, with earrings and short loose canva.s.s trousers which looked like petticoats, helping to bring up the cargo, and showed by their presence that all had been landed from the lugger-- that which was now being brought up consisting of the acc.u.mulation on the ledges and at the top of the cliff.
"Much more?" Ram kept asking as he toiled away, wet now with perspiration.
"Ay, ay, lad, it's a long cargo," he kept hearing; and the lanthorns had to be s.h.i.+fted twice as the stacks of kegs and bales increased, till just as the boy began to think the loads would never end, he realised that the French sailors had not been up lately, and one of their own men suddenly said--
"Last!"
Ram drew a breath full of relief as the men came out silently, and he stopped behind with one lanthorn only alight to lock the door of the great vault, and then stood in the stone pa.s.sage, thinking how quiet and still the house seemed.
He went out, closing the door after him, and stood in the garden.
"Wonder whether Miss Celia heard us," he said; "never thought of it before; they must have tied up old Grip."
He glanced up at the windows as he went out, then they seemed to disappear in the mist as he made for the track and went downwards, to hear low voices, and directly after he encountered his father.
"Got 'em all right, boy?"
"Yes, father," said Ram, handing the key. "Lugger gone?"
"Hour and a half ago, lad; just got her empty as the tide turned. Best run we've had."
He burst into a low fit of chuckling.
"What are you laughing at, father?"
"I was thinking how artful revenue cutters are, boy. I don't believe that _White Hawk's_ more than half a mile away."
"But then see what a fog it was, father?"
"Tchah! To me it's just the same as a moons.h.i.+ny night, boy. There, come on home and get to bed. Must be up early; lots to do to-day."
Seeing that it could not be long before morning, Ram asked himself what was the use of his going to bed; but he said nothing, only hurried to keep pace with his father; and soon after, feeling f.a.gged out, he was fast asleep, and dreaming that whenever he piled the kegs up they kept on rolling down about him, and that the mids.h.i.+pman from the _White Hawk_ stood looking on, and laughing at him for being clumsy, and then he awoke fancying he was called.
It was quite right, for Farmer Shackle was shouting--
"Now you, Ramillies, are you going to sleep there all day?"
CHAPTER SIX.
Ram had thrown himself down, dressed as he was, so that an interview with a bucket of water at the back door, and a good rub with the jack towel, were sufficient to brighten him up for the breakfast waiting, and the boy was not long before he was partaking heartily of the bowl of bread and milk his mother placed before him, his father muttering and grumbling the while to himself.
"I'm sure you needn't be so cross this morning, master," said Mrs Shackle reproachfully.
"If you had as much to fret you as I do, wife, you'd be cross."
"Why, you told me this morning that you carried your crop of sea hay without a drop of water on it."
Farmer Shackle shut one eye, tightened up his mouth, and looked with his other eye at his wife, which was his idea of laughing.
"Well, then," she said, "what makes you so cross?"
"Cross! Enough to make any man cross. I shall be ruined--such a set of careless people about me. Those cows left out on the cliff field all last night, and Tally must have gone over, for I can't see her anywhere."
"Oh, poor Tally! My kindest cow," cried Mrs Shackle.
"Yes, I shall set that down to you Ramillies. That's a flogging for you if she isn't found."
"No, no, master; don't be so hard. The poor boy was out all night looking after signals and--"
Bang! Down came the farmer's fist on the table making the plates and basins jump.
"Hay, woman, hay!" he roared. "Mind what you're talking about!"
"Don't do that, Blenheim!" cried Mrs Shackle. "You quite frightened me."
"Yes, I'll frighten the whole lot of you. Ten golden pounds gone over the cliff through that boy's neglect."