“What, to be shot at?” I said.
“Let them shoot!” he cried. “I should like to be there. Now, then, what did I tell you? The cutter is not going half so fast now.”
He was quite right, for, as the white-sailed vessel got beyond the entrance to the Gap, she was more and more under the shelter of the huge headland and the mighty cliffs that ran on for miles, and instead of lying over so that we half expected to see her keel, she rode more steadily and upright in the water, and her speed was evidently far less.
Another white puff of smoke, and another shot sent skipping after the lugger, but with what result we could not see. The firing made no difference, though, to the lugger, which continued its course towards the west, and Bigley gave me a triumphant look from time to time.
The firing had now become regular, and had brought down all the miners from the pit, and Mother Bonnet, to see the exciting chase. One climbed up the side of the Gap here, another there, and then higher and higher, and seeing the advantageous position they occupied I turned quickly to Bigley.
“Run and get the glass, Big,” I said, “and then we’ll climb right up to the top of the head.”
Big shook his head.
“Father has it in the lugger,” he said; “but let’s climb up all the same.”
We knew the ways of the great headland better than the people, and were about to start upon our climb when Mother Bonnet came up and caught Bigley’s arm.
“Think they’ll get away, Master Big?” she whispered with her face mottled with white blotches.