The sloop’s boat passed out between the two arms of the little harbour before Tom Bodger recommenced his polishing up in Aleck’s boat.
“A pretty cutter,” he said. “There arn’t anything better worth looking at afloat than a man-o’-war’s launch or cutter well manned by a smart crew. Makes me wish I’d got my understandings again and was an AB once more. Not as I grumbles—not me. Rockabie arn’t amiss, and things has to be as they is. Here, let’s get all ship-shape afore Master Aleck comes. Wish I’d got a bit o’ sand here to give them ring-bolts a rub or two. I like to see his boat look a bit smart.
“Wonder what them two’s come in for—they arn’t lying off here for nothing! Some ’un’s been sending ’em word there’s a cargo going to be run along the shore, and so they’ve come in for soft tack and wegetables. Haw! haw! haw!” he laughed, as he bent over his work. “It’s well I know that game. Fresh wegetables for the cook, a look round to find out what’s what, and as soon as it’s dark a couple o’ well-armed boats to beat up the quarters and a dozen or so o’ men pressed. I know. Well, I s’pose it’s right; the King must have men to fight his battles. They ought to volunteer; but some on ’em won’t. They don’t like going until they’re obliged, and then they do, and wouldn’t come back on no account. Strikes me there’s going to be a landing to-night. Some un must ha’ let ’em know. Wonder who could do it, for there’s a bit o’ fun coming off to-night, I lay my legs. Eben Megg wouldn’t be here for nothing, and there’s half a dozen more hanging about.
“Well,” he added, after a pause. “I’m not going to tell tales about either side. Don’t know much, and what I do know I’m going to keep to myself. Smuggling arn’t right; no more arn’t playing spy and informer—so I stands upon my wooden pegs and looks on. They won’t take me. Wouldn’t mind, though, if they did. There, that looks quite decent and tidy, that does, and if Master Aleck don’t say a word o’ praise, why I say it’s a shame. Well done; just finished in time. Here you are, then, my lad. Got a load? Why didn’t yer let me come and carry it? Hold hard a minute, and I’ll fetch it aboard.”
For Tom Bodger had heard a step on the pier right above him as he stooped and saw the shadow of him who had made the sound cast right down upon the thwart and flooring of the boat, the maker of the shadow being evidently the bearer of some oblong object, which he carried at arm’s length above his head.
Tom was balancing himself upon his wooden legs, and in the attitude of rising from his bent-down position, when he was conscious of a faint sound and an alteration in the shadow cast down, while the next instant there was a tremendous crash.
Chapter Thirteen.
A splintering crash as of a heavy mass of stone or metal striking full upon the thwart behind him, while crash again, right upon the first sound, there was a duller and more crushing noise.