Jack Hardy: A Story of English Smugglers in the Days of Napoleon by Herbert Strang
*CHAPTER XVIII*
*THE BATTLE OF BINSEY COVE*
"Ah! Patience is a monument, as brother Sol used to say. Tombstone I'dcall it, 'cos this here waiting about in the cold'll be the death o'me."
"True, Mr. Babbage. It bean't Christian, let alone decent, to keep uspoor fellers waiting here."
"Avast your jabber, Mudge. It bean't for the likes of you to grumblewhen 'tis a matter o' dooty, and love your neighbor as yourself. 'Tis awonderful fine night, coldish, nat'ral for the time o' year. Mr. Hardydidn't make the weather, lads."
Ben Babbage, with a boat's crew from the _Fury_, lay off Totley Point,about a mile and a half west of Luscombe. It was about ten at night.They had been for two hours resting on their oars. A steady breeze blewfrom the west-sou'west, and a slight swell rocked the boat gently. Savefor an occasional pull to keep her head to the wind the men had nothingto do except wait and watch; and Babbage, however he might grumblehimself, was the last to permit grumbling in others.
But it was certainly a tax on their patience to wait hour after hour fora lugger which was slow to appear. Everybody was tired of inaction, andhoping for a signal of recall, when a shape loomed out of the blackness,passed on the starboard side of the boat, about two cable lengths away,and disappeared shoreward.
Babbage lifted a dark lantern from the bottom of the boat; Turley andMudge stretched a sheet of tarpaulin between him and the shore. ThenBabbage, facing out to sea, and keeping the lantern at such an elevationthat its light should not fall on the water, rapidly opened and closedthe shutter, sending one flash to windward.
"Things is a-going to happen, mates," he said, as he replaced thelantern. "The owdacious moment is at hand, as brother Sol used to say."
Again they waited, but now with keen expectation. In ten minutes, whichseemed hours, a dark shape appeared in the offing. Babbage making abell of his hands, sent a low whistle across the water; an order wasgiven on the approaching vessel; the steersman put up the helm, and in afew seconds the other was alongside.
"All well, Babbage?" said Jack, in a low tone.
"Ay, ay, sir."
A rope was thrown from the cutter and made fast in the bows of the boat.Another brief command; the steersman put the helm down, and the cutter,with the boat in tow, followed in the wake of the lugger. At nightfallshe had crept in to within two miles of the shore, and sending out thelong-boat as a scout, had hove to, lest her mast should betray her.
In ten minutes the cliffs were dimly visible, and Jack recognized thejagged gap at the top that served as a landmark in steering for thecove. The cutter headed straight for the gap. There was a shout fromfar up the cliff; the _Fury_ had been sighted by the lookout. His callwas answered by cries from the beach. On the cutter all the men layready with musketoon, pistol, and cutlass, except the few who had beentold off to run down the sail when the word was given, and make thecutter fast to the lugger when she came alongside.
Jack's heart beat more quickly than usual; he felt excited, and anxious,too, for he knew that the whole crew of the lugger, probably quite asstrong as his own, would be ready to repel boarders. If they werejoined by the Luscombe men who were receiving the smuggled goods hewould be greatly outnumbered. Everything depended on the handling ofthe men, and knowing how desperately smugglers fought when brought tobay, Jack felt the seriousness of the position. What would the issue be?
While the boat's crew had been waiting in the cold, strange things hadbeen happening at Gumley's cottage.
Gumley's method of guarding De Fronsac was to make a temporary kennelfor the dog outside the window of the front room in which the prisonerwas lodged, and a shakedown for himself by the door. He felt that hecould not properly intrude upon De Fronsac, who was a person of quality.But he looked in at intervals to see that he was safe, on theseoccasions calling Comely into the room, to guard against any attemptedsurprise.
De Fronsac had recovered the use of his tongue after he reached thecottage.
"I protest, I say it is a scandal, an infamy, to shut me up as if I verea t'ief. Vat right have you? Tell me dat--you--you--"
"Gumley, my name, sir. I've got my orders--in the king's name."
"Vell, I vill complain to de squire; I vill make to punishyou--you--Gomley!"
"Orders is orders, sir. I can't say no more."
Gumley himself was somewhat anxious about his charge, for, not expectingsuch a drain on his larder, he had only his usual provisions for theweek, and did not feel at liberty to leave the cottage and procure more.Thursday passed, Friday, Saturday, and still he had heard nothing fromJack. When Sunday came, there was only a half loaf of bread and a rindof cheese left, and these had to be shared among the two men and thedog.
On the second day De Fronsac began to beguile the tedium of confinementby writing poetry. When Gumley looked in at him on one of hisperiodical visits the Frenchman said:
"You have not a bad heart. You obey orders of--of--of a monstair.Vell, I read you vat I have now written about anoder Monstair--de greatvillain Monstair vat call himself Emperor of de French! Listen! Youvill like it.
"'_De sky vas blue, de sea vas green,_ _All beautiful for to be seen._ _Vy den am I not gay and glad?_ _Alas! de Monstair make me sad._'
"Dat is good beginning, hein?"
"Reyther on the miserable side, don't 'ee think, sir? For myself, Ilike a rum-tum-tiddlum rollicum-rorum sort o' thing."
"Ver' vell, I write you someting of dat kind."
Gumley heard nothing more of this generous offer until Monday evening.Then, when he went into De Fronsac's room to explain with apologies thathe had no more food, the Frenchman said:
"No matter not at all. Vizout doubt some vun vill come to-morrow. Beso good as give me a candle. I vish to write de poesy I speak of."
Gumley saw no reason for not humoring so harmless a hobby, and broughtthe lighted candle. But a couple of hours later he was awakened fromhis sleep at the locked door by a smell of burning. He soon satisfiedhimself that it came from the prisoner's room, and opened the door.
"Ha! I see you!" said De Fronsac. "I am almost burnt alive. I amwriting my poesy ven--_voila!_ de candle overfalls and burns a hole inde table-carpet. See it! I put out de fire, easy; but it make muchsmoke. I fear it vake you; pardon, my good Gomley."
"Granted, sir, ready. If I was you I'd go to sleep now and do yourwriting stuff in the morning."
"So I vill," was the response. "Pardon! I vill not vake you again."
Gumley returned to his shakedown and was soon fast asleep.
Nearly two hours later he was wakened by a growl from the dog outside.He got up, opened the outer door, and found Comely trying to get up tothe shuttered window of De Fronsac's room.
"Don't like his poetry any more than me, don't 'ee? Come in. We'lltell him 'tis time he was abed."
He closed the door when the dog had entered, and together they went intothe prisoner's room. There was still a good deal of smoke in it--but noFrenchman.
"Ahoy!" cried Gumley.
But the dog made a dash back to the front door, and, when Gumleyfollowed and opened it, rushed growling down the garden, where he wasbrought up by the high fence. Seizing his cutlass, Gumley stumped asfast as he could to the gate.
"Chok' it all!" he muttered. "This is what comes o' losing a leg in theking's name."
It took some little time to draw the bolts and unlock the gate, and whenthe old sailor got out into the road the fugitive was out of sight. ButGumley thought he heard a man running down the cliff path to thevillage. Without hesitation he started in pursuit, whistling Comely tohis side. Never had that wooden leg moved so fast; but with all hisexertion his pace did not exceed that of a quick walk. He was half-waydown the path when he heard shots in the distance. Hurrying still more,he came to the village just in time to see a group of men rushing out atthe other end, and caught the words "Sandy Cove!"
"Fire and brimstone!" he
And he stumped on gamely through the deserted street.
Meanwhile there had been brisk doings at Sandy Cove. When Jack judgedthat he was only a couple of cable-lengths from the lugger, he cast offthe long-boat with Babbage and his men. They, resting on their oars,allowed it to drift slowly in while the cutter disappeared into thedarkness.
A few moments later Jack gave the word. The sail was run down. A roundshot from the lugger whistled across the _Fury's_ bows. Another fewseconds; then, amid furious shouts, the cutter came against the larboardquarter of the lugger with a bump that caused the men on both craft tostagger. The _Fury's_ bowsprit fouled the lugger's shrouds and hookedfast. Instantly half a dozen grapnels were out, and the two vesselswere closely interlocked.
There was a deafening discharge of small arms from the deck of thelugger, but as most of the _Fury's_ men were lying down awaiting theorder to board, and the volley was fired at random in almost totaldarkness, hardly any damage was done. But the master of the lugger wasclearly a man of action, for the echo of the shots had scarcely comeback from the cliffs when he gave a loud order in French, and thesmugglers swarmed over the bulwarks, intending to jump on to the deck ofthe cutter a foot or two below.
"Fire!"
The word rang out sharp and clear above the shouts of the Frenchmen.Their dark forms stood out clearly against the starlight; they were onlya few feet from the muzzles of the Englishmen's muskets; and when atJack's command the volley flashed, the front line of the smugglersdisappeared as if struck by a thunderbolt.
With a loud cheer the English sailors, dropping their muskets, seizedcutlass and pistol and dashed through the smoke, each man eager to befirst on the enemy's deck. They needed no encouragement; most of themhad a score to pay off for their defeat at the same spot in the previousautumn. While the Frenchmen were still half stunned by the scorchingfire and the loss of so many of their comrades, Jack's men gained afooting on the deck.
But now the French skipper's voice could be heard rallying his crew, andthe boarders were met by a serried mass armed with pistols and boardingpikes. And among the Frenchmen there was now a sprinkling ofEnglishmen, for the smugglers on shore had rushed over the gangway totheir comrades thus hotly beset. Now a furious hand-to-hand fight ragedabout the lugger's stern. Great was the clamor as steel clashed onsteel, pistols barked, hoarse voices roared encouragement or defiance,wounded men groaned. Again and again Jack and his men were flung back bysheer weight of numbers against the lugger's bulwarks; again and againthey rallied and forced the enemy across the deck. No room here forfine weapon-play; men cut and thrust at random, met, grappled, flungaway cutlass and pike to set to with nature's own weapons. Many aFrenchman fell under the sledge-hammer blows of British sailors' fists.
Jack had no clear recollection afterward of the details of the fight.At one moment he found himself leading a rush of his own men, pressingthe enemy back foot by foot until only a last desperate effort seemedwanting to drive them overboard. Then would come a check; a hoarseshout from the skipper, whom Jack by and by distinguished in themelee--a huge fellow of reckless courage; the tide turned, the smugglersrallied gamely, and Jack and his men, stubbornly as they fought, wereborne back and back, losing inch by inch the ground they had so hardlygained.
It was at one of these desperate moments that Jack heard at last thesound for which, throughout the struggle, he had been anxiously waiting.From the forefront of the lugger came a sudden rousing British cheer.There was a rush of feet in the rear of the smugglers, and in a second,as it seemed to Jack, the deck in front of him was clear. Ben Babbagehad arrived. Carrying out orders given him previously, he had broughtthe long-boat unseen to the starboard side of the lugger, and, beforethe Frenchmen were aware of his presence, he was on deck, with Turley,Mudge, Folkard, and half a dozen other trusty shipmates.
Beset now in both front and rear, the Frenchmen lost heart. Suddenlythey made a rush for the gangway connecting the lugger with the land,and swarmed helter-skelter across, not a few stumbling over the edge andfalling souse into the water.
"Huzzay! huzzay!" shouted the panting Englishmen, as they saw the enemyin flight.
But they were answered by a loud and confident cheer from the beach, andin the momentary silence that ensued they heard the rapid tramp of alarge body of men hurrying over the shingle. Immediately afterward theysaw the fugitives halt, and rush back, largely reinforced, to thegangway, led by the indomitable captain. On they came, tumbling into thewater three or four of the Englishmen who had started in pursuit andwere making for the shore.
The gangway, consisting of four stout planks laid side by side, waswide, and gave foothold for a throng at once. Jack and Babbagecollected their men at the lugger's bulwarks to meet this new attack.And the former, amazed at this sudden turning of the tables, was stillmore amazed to see beside the French skipper the slighter form ofMonsieur de Fronsac. Even at the moment of recognition De Fronsac'spistol flashed; the bullet glanced off Jack's cutlass within an inch ofhis body, and embedded itself in the mast behind him.
The two forces came together with a shock. Babbage dropped his cutlassand flung his powerful arms around the skipper. They swayed for amoment, then fell together with a tremendous splash into the water. DeFronsac had dropped his pistol, and made for Jack with a cutlass. Jackparried his furious cut, and before he could recover replied with arapid and dexterous thrust that found the Frenchman's forearm. Withwonderful quickness De Fronsac shifted his weapon from the right to theleft hand, and, shouting encouragement to the men beside and behind him,pressed forward indomitably.
At the same moment there was a rush of feet from the bows of the lugger.Her bowsprit came within easy reach of the rocky ledge, and a number ofthe smugglers had sprung on to it, scrambled along, and flung themselveson the flank of the defenders. Turley and others at Jack's right turnedto meet this new danger; but the enemy had gained a firm foothold on theforedeck, and the fight once more became general.
Jack, fighting grimly with Mudge and Folkard at the head of the gangway,felt with a dreadful sinking at the heart that the tide of battle wasturning overwhelmingly against him. It seemed only too likely that hemust either take to the cutter and escape, or remain to be killed orcaptured. But at this moment there was a sudden uproar at the far endof the gangway; the cries he heard were unmistakably cries of dismay.The throng of men pressing from the shore to the lugger wavered; theirrear was being attacked; the preventives must be upon them! So suddenand unexpected was the onslaught that they lost their heads; theirconfidence changed to panic, and as one man they made off, springinginto the shallow water to right and left, and scurrying away into thedarkness.
"Have at 'em, Comely! Have at 'em, my lad!"
The words rang clear above all the din; and ever and anon came a shortyelping bark--the unmistakable war-cry of a bulldog. Jack felt awonderful lightness of heart as the sounds came to him out of the dark.Then the press in front of him melted as by magic, and through the gapso quickly made stumped Gumley, wielding his cutlass like a flail, andshouting with the regularity of a minute-gun:
"Have at 'em, Comely! Have at 'em, my lad!"
Two men remained on the gangway, refusing to be intimidated by thetumult in their rear; nay more, adjuring the fugitives to stand fast.One was Monsieur de Fronsac, the other Kit Lamiger, the chief Luscombesmuggler, father of the lad whom Jack had fought.
The uproar, the flight, the appearance of Gumley and the dog, allhappened in such rapid succession and amid such a clamor that to Jackthe events seemed to take place in one crowded moment. As the last ofthe panic-stricken smugglers jumped sidewise from the gangway on to therocks, De Fronsac, hearing Gumley's voice behind him, took a rapid stepforward in a last desperate endeavor to dispose of Jack. But the middymarked his purpose. There was no time for deliberation. The Frenchman,wielding his cutlass as well with his left hand as with his right, madea fierce cut at Jack. The next momen
Meanwhile Kit Lamiger had found himself seized below in the vise-likegrip of Comely's jaws. Struggling to free himself, he fell into thearms of Gumley, who, with a cry of "In the king's name, shipmate!" swunghim round, threw him on to the shingle, and bade the bulldog watch him.
The fight was over.
"Ahoy, Gumley! Come aboard!" shouted Jack.
Gumley stumped across the gangway, and this was drawn on to the lugger'sdeck. Jack intended to work the vessels out for a little distance untilthere was no chance of being attacked except by boats, for he knew thathe was still outnumbered. But just as he was preparing to cast offthere came a loud hail from the beach, and immediately afterward Mr.Goodman rushed up at the head of a force of preventive men.
"Just in time, Mr. Hardy!" panted he.
"A little late, Mr. Goodman," replied Jack. "I expected you some timeago. The fight is over."
"Dash my buttons!" cried the mortified officer. "'Tis my confoundedill-luck. I should have been here, but I got another note a few hoursago that I had to attend to."
"Anonymous, Mr. Goodman?"
"Yes, anonymous as usual, hang it all! I came up when I heard thefiring. I see you've got the lugger, sir. Our scheme worked out to theletter."
"To the anonymous note, eh, Mr. Goodman? Well, we've good news for theadmiral to-morrow. And as you've a good number of your men here, I'll goashore and step up to the Grange. I want to see my cousin. Turley,where's Babbage?"
"Never seed him, sir, since he went overboard with the French skipper."
"Well, I must leave you in charge, then. The poor fellow's drowned, Ifear."
"No, sir," shouted a voice from the beach.
"Who's that?"
"Me, sir, Babbage as was."
"All sound?"
"And fury, as brother Sol used to say. Me and the French skipper felloverboard together, me on top. He drownded hisself, sir, 'cos hewouldn't let go. When I come up, some o' they fellers bowled me overlike a ninepin, and my senses was fair knocked out o' me. Next thing Iknowed I heard you a-saying I were drownded, sir. Not so, nor nevereven seasick."
"Well, I'm glad you're safe. Come aboard. We'll see what damage is donehere, and then I'll go ashore, and we'll get a doctor from WickhamFerrers to attend to the poor fellows who are wounded."