"Good Lord! If I show you my card trick, isn't that pay? I call a miserable passage across the Channel a mighty cheap price for one of my secrets. But if you will haggle, you shall have all my money into the bargain,—one shilling, and one sixpence. Well, well, so you don't want to learn the trick? Good evening, then!"
"Oh, hold! I didn't say no. I don't haggle. I'll take you, lad, to-morrow night,—when I go a-fishing."
If Dick thought it strange to go fishing by night, particularly Sunday night, he kept his thoughts to himself. He had heard tales of the fisherfolk and other worthy people of the coast towns, and was prepared to be blind to certain signs. As for the readiness with which the seafarers in the ale-house let him come among them, his own appearance of poverty had quickly served to establish a fellowship. His winning, yet confident, manner prevented his being despised for the poverty he showed. Moreover, his desire to cross the Channel indicated, in a person of his attire, such motives for absence from England as these men were of a class to sympathize with. They knew at first glance that he had no purpose inimical to them, so keen was their scent for a government spy in any disguise. In fine, Dick had the gift of adapting his demeanor to the society of a Lord or of a cutthroat, and easily made himself received without distrust by these wary folk who fished by night.
On Saturday night, that of his arrival at this humble suburb of Dover, he slept in a corner of the fisherman's loft. All the next day, he lay quiet indoors, sharing the Sunday life of the fisherman's family, which included a wife and two huge, awkward sons, respectively sixteen and eighteen years old. At night, preceded by these sons, the fisherman led Dick some distance from the town, to a cove, where lay the smack. An unknown man was already aboard, adjusting sail. The four immediately joined him, Dick bestowing himself in the stern while the fisherman and his sons assisted the unknown at the ropes. Few, short, and low were the words spoken, and very soon the little craft glided out from shore, upon the easy swell of the Channel. The night was lit by stars only, the wind was fair, and the heave of the sea was not violent.
Dick noticed that his skipper kept a very keen lookout, seeming to search the sea ahead for some particular object. He wondered how soon these nocturnal fishermen would begin to cast lines, and what sort of fish they would be catching at this season. But presently he drew in all his thoughts to his own affairs, for he had become unmistakably seasick. Busy for a long while in seeking relief, his head over the side of the boat, he gave no heed to the doings or words of the crew.
He was, in time, vaguely aware of a hail from another vessel; of the fact that this vessel loomed into close view; that his own boat lay to alongside of it; that the two crews conversed in mixed French and English; that sundry bales, kegs, ankers, and two or three barrels, were lowered from the other vessel into the boat, and then that he was shaken at the shoulder by his conductor, who said, "Come aboard the lugger, lad, and make haste!"
Surprised but unquestioning, Dick staggered after the fisherman and clambered from the boat's gunwale, with the crew's help, to the other vessel. Just as the fisherman was about to follow, one of his sons gave a low cry. The fisherman uttered a curse, and leaped to his rudder, while the son who had called out seized a rope and began vigorously making sail. At the same moment a man on the lugger instantly released the line by which the Dover smack had been kept alongside, and there was a general noise of ropes, blocks, and canvas, in quick movement. Before Dick knew what was the matter the two vessels had parted company, and the lights of a third appeared, from which came a sharp, mandatory hail. This, being unanswered, was followed by a flash and a boom and a splashing up of water,—the last in the wake of the boat from Dover. That craft showing its heels in fine fashion, and Dick's vessel also making speed, the former was soon out of sight. The revenue cutter, for such was the intruder whose advent had caused the two smuggling vessels to part so suddenly, chose to pursue the English boat, so that the French lugger to which Dick had been transferred went its way unhindered.
Dick turned with an inquiring look to the man who seemed in command of the lugger. The latter, evidently supposing that Dick's solicitude was in regard to the Dover smack, said in French, "Have no fear, my brother. Your comrades will carry their fish safe home. Their King's vessels waste time and powder chasing them. Mon Dieu, the bottom of the ocean must be paved with the cannon-shot the revenue vessels have sent after the night fishermen in vain!"
Dick, from his long association with the French teacher in Newgate, could grasp the meaning of this speech after a few moments. He knew from the words and manner that the Frenchman understood him to be on a good understanding with the Dover fishermen, and would treat him as one who deserved well of the vast fraternity of Channel smugglers. It was comforting to know that his way had thus been made smooth by the Dover man when the latter had bespoken Dick's passage, for the French smuggler was as villainous-looking a rascal as Dick had seen in Newgate, and, had Dick come to him without proper introduction, would doubtless have been as ready with a hostile knife or belaying-pin as he now was with deference and amiability. Dick found, without directly asking, that the lugger was bound for Boulogne.
It was that darkest hour which precedes the dawn, when the vessel anchored some distance off that port. The skipper and one of the crew rowed ashore with Dick in a small boat, getting out in the surf, and dragging the boat after them while they waded to dry beach. They were now on the sands near the town. The captain took polite leave of Dick, pointing out the most convenient way to go, and adding, with a grin, that, as this road was not obstructed by custom-house officers, Dick would undergo no delay over his baggage. Nothing was said about passage money. The Dover skipper had evidently provided for Dick's transportation, which was doubtless a matter of reciprocal favor between the English and the French smugglers. Dick was sorry the Dover man had been disappointed, by the interference of the revenue cutter, of the intended trip to the French coast and of the proposed payment for Dick's passage. "I'll show him the card trick if ever we meet again," thought Dick, as he walked towards the town and realized that he was on French ground; "but, if we never meet, it isn't my fault he was left behind."