The adventure of coming in contact with the watchman and the idea of meeting the celebrated King of Prussia harmonised with the lad's daring spirit and he was not loathe to remain.
"That's right, better so, and 'ee'll see a fine sight," nodded the watchman, relieved of much of his fears. "And now I suppose 'ee'rt hungry, leastways I be, and we'll 'ave a bit of scrowled pilchards and say biscuit."
The watchman set about the little cabin preparing the evening meal for himself and guest and became quite communicative. Exploits of the King of Prussia, his smuggling trips, his hairbreadth escapes, his great courage, all formed the burden of his tales. Ande listened and felt more and more the desire to meet this hero of the smuggling trade. The supper was ready and together watchman and hurling captain fell to with a will, the latter eating with the gusto that the hard day's game naturally brought.
In the meantime the night settled in dark and stormy. For some time there had been dark, leaden clouds pendant upon the western horizon and a low, weird murmuring, increasing to a sullen, muffled growl as of many beasts, mad with hunger in a jungle fastness. With the increasing wind the leaden mass burdening the horizon rolled steadily inward, a roof of tumbling blackness, now still, then rolling on, and fretted here and there with jagged gleams of lightning. There was a crashing roll of thunder like the peal of many guns.
"Hark!" said the watchman, raising his fork in midair; "just as I thought, a storm a-coming; so much the better for the King. A storm brings a clear coast, and yet I wish the captain was ashore, for there's going to be uncommon 'igh wind."
More thunder and more violent wind, and the waves along the shore, that generally rollicked and played with boulders and companion cliffs, began to rear their foam crowned heads and bellow back in harmony with the thunder tones above, beating the defiant rocks with a scourge of green watery thongs. The sea-gulls were silenced by the increasing roar and sought safety in the crannies of the cliffs. And now the full force of the storm was on, and even in the retired cove was its power felt, for the small window panes began to rattle and vibrate as if moved by a spirit of unrest.
"'Ark!" said the watchman, as he pushed back his chair and arose hurriedly. There was a sound of a solitary gun at sea, heard in the lull of the wind, and then through the window was seen the shooting course of a rocket, comet-like, athwart the stormy sky.
"Ah! The King is coming in, and 'ard pressed too. Damme, the government dogs are after 'im. Now there was a time when a man could earn a decent living without 'aving 'is lugger sent to Davy Jones' locker, but now—damme—there's another gun! Les out and give 'im a light! Bear a hand there with that lantern."
The watchman jerked an oilskin on his back and a sou'wester on his head, and casting a hasty glance at the cabin, turned and bolted through the door, closely followed by his companion.
Without the storm was not much felt in the sequestered cove, although there were occasional blasts of wind that penetrated the harbour entrance, terrific in force, and seemed to fairly take their breath on their exit. Above, streaks of twilight were still visible, and flying, scudding fragments of clouds driven on the blast. Then came sleet and hail that stung the face like needles. The lad staggered a moment almost blinded by the withering, hail-burdened wind.