Margaret told her father the exact state of her mind, and did not conceal anything from him.
“I much fear,” said the old man, “that he has returned to the coast again, and perhaps to his former vicious companions. Not that I have heard anything of him; but I know that the coastguard are as active as they ever were in the discharge of their desperate duty. I cannot think of any other method of ascertaining the fact, than by sending your brother Edward down to the coast for a time, and let him learn what he can. He is a very sharp young fellow, and I can tell you, Margaret, that for activity of head, heart, and limb, not one of my boys ever exceeded him.”
“I think the scheme might answer,” replied Margaret: “at all events, it is worth trying. I shall feel more satisfied, let the result be what it may. I will give him part of my wages, so that he shall lose nothing by the trip.”
In the evening the plan was proposed to the young man, who readily entered into his sister’s views upon the subject. He would ask his master for a week or ten days, or a fortnight, if required.
Margaret gave him strict charge to explain to Will Laud the circumstance of her having so hastily uttered those words which had given him such offence; that it was her mistress’s command that she should see no more sailors. “Be cautious,” she added; “avoid that villain Luff; for in his clutches you would be no more than a lamb beneath a tiger’s paw. You must visit all the different places along the coast from Felixstowe to Aldeburgh. If any of the coastguard speak to you, tell them honestly who you are; and if you see young Edward Barry, you may tell him all the truth. He will help you, as he promised to befriend me, should I ever require his aid. If any private opportunity of speaking to Laud should occur, tell him his money is all safe, and shall be employed according to his directions. I consider it his property, though directed to me. Go, Edward. I shall spend many a restless hour until you return.”
Edward Catchpole was soon on his road to Felixstowe. His first attempt was to find out the old ferryman, Laud’s father, and ascertain if he knew anything of him. But he learned that the old man had quietly departed this life, soon after receiving the news of his son’s engagement with the French, in Lord Howe’s victory of the 1st of June. The only thing like a footmark of Laud was in the report given by some of the neighbours, that a sailor had been there some weeks ago, making inquiries about the old ferryman; who, ascertaining, however, that he was dead, went away, and no one heard anything more of him.
Edward next went on from Felixstowe to Bawdsey Ferry, and took up his quarters at the Sun Inn. Here he seemed as one come to the seaside for health; for he was to be seen wandering along the shore, and talking whenever he could with the sailors. But he could gain no tidings, directly or indirectly, of the person he sought. He shifted his position from the Sun to the Old Beach House, at the mouth of the river Alde, now known by the name of the Life-Boat public-house, then kept by Jacob Merrells, a pilot.
Great preparations were then making for building forts and Martello towers along the coast, to oppose any invasion. Numbers of surveyors, and workmen in the employ of Government, frequented the Beach House. The conversation sometimes turned upon smuggling, and young Catchpole’s heart beat high at such moments, with the hope of some clue to Laud. Nothing, however, could he elicit, except that, as so many Government men were about at that time, the smugglers were not likely to be carrying on a very brisk trade. Still it was carried on, and Captain Bargood was, it was said, as busy as ever.
He next visited Boyton and Sudbourn, and Orford. He lodged at the Mariner’s Compass, then kept by an old weather-beaten sailor, who often put him across from the quay on the banks of the Alde, to the North Vere; and here he used to spend so many hours, that the coastguard, who kept a watch upon his movements, suspected that his countryman’s dress was only a ruse to hide some sinister intention. They observed, however, that he did not avoid them, but rather sought opportunity for their acquaintance. A more dreary place than this North Vere is scarcely to be found on all the coast of Great Britain. It is a mass of shingle nearly twenty miles long, in some places nearly a mile broad, in others, only a few hundred yards. This wall of pebbles separates the river Alde from the ocean. The bank reaches from Hollesley Bay to Aldeburgh. The sea and the river are very deep along the shelving banks on either side.
Thousands upon thousands of sea-birds build, or rather lay their eggs, upon this desolate bed of shingle. A few wild, straggling plants of seakale, and very long, thin, sickly spires of grass, occasionally shoot up through the stones; but there is no other vegetation, except here and there in some few hollows in this desert of stones, where a little clay, mixed with the sea-fowl dung, formed a green patch. These spots used to be much frequented by smugglers, which, from their sunken situations, used to hide both them and their goods from view. Nothing prominent can be seen for miles round this coast, except the Orford lights, which stand conspicuous enough about midway between Hollesley and Aldeburgh.