"Well, Jim," he said; "nip this way, quick. We have a suit of clothes all ready for you."
So they hurried me away to their little cart, where I found a boy's suit, which I was glad to put on, as of course I never wore the precious red suit in bed.
"Those were good fire-crackers," said Marah's friend. "They made the horses run."
"Yes," said Marah. "I knew we could clear the gipsies out of the way and get Jim clear. Well, Jim, my son, I'm not strong enough to talk much. I reckon I have done with night-riding since I got this slug in my chest. But here we are again, bound home, my son, with not much shot in the locker."
"You be quiet," said his friend; "you'll be getting your wound bad. Get up, Neddy."
We trotted off to a little inn which stood at some distance from the gipsies' camp.
The next morning, after a comfortable night in bed; I asked Marah how he had escaped. He told me that when the lugger drove ashore, one or two smugglers who had hidden in the dunes, crept down to her and carried him ashore. The two others, the drunkards, were too noisy to bring off. They were captured, and condemned to serve in the Navy. Marah's wound was not very severe; but he had had a great shock, and would not be able to exert himself for many weeks. An old smuggler (the one-legged man) had dressed his wound for him, and had then disguised him as I saw him, with a beard and naval clothes. One of the many Captains Sharp had advanced money for the journey home; but to avoid suspicion they had rigged up their donkey-cart; and worked their way as poor sea-ballad singers.
"And now," said Marah, "I heard tell in Kent that you'd written home by the mail-coach, a full five days ago. Well, Jim, we're near the coach-road here. I reckon your friends'll be coming to see you by to-day's coach. If we go out into the road, to the 'Bold Sawyer' yonder, where they change horses and wait, I reckon you'll be able to save them some of their journey. Hey, Sally," he cried to the waitress, "what time does the Plymouth mail pass by?"
"At eleven o'clock," said Sally.
"At six bells, Jim," said Marah, "you'll see your folk again. On that I'll wager my best new silver buttons."