om," said Frank, addressing himself to the quarter-master, as the two were standing their watch that evening, "how came you to go to sea?"
"I was born a sailor, sir," answered the man. "My father, and my grandfather before him, followed the sea for a livelihood. They were smugglers, living among the rocks and crags on the southern coast of England.
"My home was not such a one as would have suited you, sir; but it was a pleasant place to me, and I often look back to the days of my boyhood, although passed amid scenes of danger, as the happiest ones of my life. Our house, as we called it, was a cave in the side of a high mountain, at the foot of which was a long, narrow, and rocky passage, that led to the ocean. At the end of this passage, next to the mountain, was a small but deep bay, where a vessel could ride at anchor in safety without being seen by any one outside. In front of the cave was a small grass plot, which overlooked a vast extent of sea and land, and from which the distant shores of France could be seen. This was my post, where I sat many a night, watching for the return of my father, who was the captain of the smugglers. It was my business to watch for revenue-cutters, and to give the signal of danger in case any appeared off the coast at the time father was expected to return.
"It would have been a lonely watch in that cave for one who was not accustomed to it, for I never had a companion; but, having been brought up to that kind of a life, I was never at a loss to know how to pass away the time. The fishing in the basin was excellent, and I had a small boat, the exact model of my father's little schooner, with which I sometimes amused myself for hours together in running in and out of the channel, which, owing to its rocky nature, was very difficult of passage. It was here that the cutters were always given the slip. Father never approached the coast except during the night, and many a time have I seen the swift little schooner come bounding over the waves, with every stitch of her canvas stretched, followed close in her wake by a cutter. The latter would be certain of his prize when he saw the schooner heading straight toward the rocks; but, the first thing he knew, the smuggler would be out of sight in the channel. No light was necessary, for father knew every inch of the ground, and before the man-o'-war could lower his boats and discover the place where his prize had so mysteriously disappeared, father would have his goods landed, and, ere the cutter was aware of it, he would run out of the channel under his very nose, and make all sail for France. No one outside of the band was ever known to enter the channel; for, even in broad daylight, a person would have declined making the trial, as the waves dashed and roared among the rocks in a manner that seemed to threaten destruction to any thing that came within their reach.
"The schooner was several times overhauled and boarded while at sea, but father never lost a cargo. He always succeeded in fooling the revenue chaps in some manner. I remember one time in particular, when I made a trip on board the schooner as mate. We made the run in our usual time, easily eluding the cutters that were watching us, and arrived off the coast of France with every thing in order. One dark night we landed our goods, and, after receiving our money, we ran down to a little town, to purchase some necessary articles, and to take in our return supply. A lot of jabbering French policemen sprang on board of us, almost before we had touched the wharf, and commenced rummaging the hold; but they, of course, went away disappointed in their hopes of finding something to condemn us. We lay in port alongside of a little Dutch trading vessel, that was our exact model and build in every particular, until night, when we received our goods, ran by the police, and stood out to sea. We got along nicely until just before daylight, when an 'Irish-man's hurricane,' as we call a calm, set in, accompanied by a heavy fog, and we lay motionless on the water, with the sails flapping idly against the masts. It was provoking, and a more uneasy set of men than that schooner's crew I never saw. We remained becalmed for nearly an hour, anxiously waiting for the wind to spring up, when I happened to step for'ard, and heard a noise like the washing of the waves against the side of a vessel. I hastily ran aft and reported the matter to father, who silently stationed his men, and walked for'ard, with his speaking-trumpet in his hand, while we stood at our posts, almost fearing to breathe, lest it should be heard on board of the strange vessel, which was still concealed from our view by the thick fog.
"At length, to our inexpressible relief, we felt a puff of wind; then came another and another, each one increasing in force, until the sails began to draw, and the schooner commenced moving slowly through the water. We stood off on the starboard tack, intending to give our invisible neighbor a wide berth; but he had also caught the wind, and we could hear him moving along almost in front of us. At length the fog lifted a little, and we saw a large revenue-cutter standing directly across our bows, scarcely a cable's length distant. We luffed, to allow him to pass, when a hail came from his deck:
"'Schooner ahoy!'
"'Yah,' shouted father through his trumpet.