"Bless my soul, what fools they must be!" said the Squire with a mirthless laugh. "There's nothing here worth firing a shot for. Ah! there's the bell. We'll see if 'tis more effective than last time we rang it. And we'll give them a warm reception, my boy, by George we will! Go and bring Reuben to me."
So crowded was the next hour, and so conflicting were the accounts given subsequently, in all honesty, by actors in the drama, that the writing of a clear and coherent narrative is a matter of some difficulty. Mr. Carlyon diligently questioned everyone who could throw a light on the separate incidents, and out of this material compiled a long chapter for his history of the parish. But the prolixity of his style, and his habit of interrupting his narrative with classical parallels and references to abstruse authors, render his book quite unsuitable to the present age, and make it necessary to treat his manuscript as the modern historian treats his sources.
When the Isaac and Jacob was moored alongside the jetty, the tarpaulins that covered the deck were thrown aside, the men whom they had concealed sprang to their feet, and, joined by others who swarmed up the companion way, rushed ashore behind their leader, Jean Delarousse of Roscoff. There were but two or three of the Polkerran folk visible. A large number of the fishers were five or six miles away, having affairs of their own to attend to. The majority of the population were still abed. A dozen miners, due for the day shift in an hour's time, were breakfasting. Only the smoke rising into the air from the chimneys of their cottages gave sign of life.
The few men who were out and about fled incontinently to their homes at sight of the fifty determined Frenchmen, armed with muskets, cutlasses, and pistols, advancing across the few yards of open space that separated the jetty from the nearest houses. It was evident that the invaders had prearranged their operations. Twelve of their number separated from the main body and went off hastily in couples, three to the right, three to the left, until they reached the last dwelling in either direction. Then doubling up the hills to right and left, they posted themselves around the village in a half circle, at intervals of about a hundred yards. Their object manifestly was to prevent any villager from breaking through, and carrying news of the raid into the country beyond. The Dower House and the Towers were naturally not included in the cordon.
While this movement was being carried out, Delarousse led the rest of his force straight to the Five Pilchards. The door was already open; the miners usually paid an early visit to the inn before they started for their work. Delarousse on entering was confronted by an elderly woman of shrewish aspect, who stood like a dragon behind the shining taps.
"Ze Towers, vere Trevanion live—it is zat big house on ze cliff?" he asked.
Mrs. Doubledick nodded. Fright bereft her of speech.
"Vere is Doubledick?" asked the Frenchman.
The answer was a shake of the head; whereupon Delarousse, ejaculating "Ah, bah!" returned to his followers, who were collected about the entrance, and led all but six of them up the hill. Like a prudent general, he took care to secure his communications.
Though he presumed that Mrs. Doubledick's shake of the head signified ignorance of her husband's whereabouts, in this he was in error. Doubledick had returned home late at night, unaware of the impending crisis in his affairs. His wife gave him Mr. Polwhele's message, and he anticipated a very pleasant interview with the riding-officer on his return from circumventing the smugglers. Rising early, he happened to see from his bedroom window the crowd of Frenchmen swarming from the lugger, and without waiting to finish dressing, he ran down to the taproom, pulled up a trap-door behind the bar, and descended into the capacious cellar beneath, having strictly charged his wife not to reveal his whereabouts. He was shaking with fear, rather of possible consequences which his imagination foresaw than of immediate bodily harm. Delarousse could scarcely fail to discover before long that Doubledick had given him misleading information, and he was a man whose wrath it was not wise to face.