Youth has two suns to every cloud: when one is hid the other shines. Therefore, notwithstanding all the turmoil of the early morning and the knowledge that our house concealed a secret which could hang us both, I soon, for the time at any rate, clean forgot these matters. And so, when about ten o'clock I buckled on that fine new sword and stepped (nay, swaggered were a truer word for it) down townwards, there might have been no forgeries, no Ferguson the Plotter, no Tubal Ammon, and no Black Box in existence.
For one thing, 'twas as fine a day as any man could wish to see. A fresh breeze stirred the leaves; the birds were singing gaily; while through the trees came glimpses of our glorious bay, flashing like diamonds in the sunlight. Thus I was as happy as a king (nay, happier than most kings!), and as I strode along, with hand on sword-hilt, I gave a cheery nod to old acquaintances; frowned sternly on ill-mannered boys; and cast gay smiles at pretty girls who, ever and anon, peeped out from upper windows.
Enough, it was a fine bright morning, and I was in fine feather, with as little thought of coming evil as the larks which soared above my head. Yet I had scarce set foot inside the town before 'twas clear that some strange business was afoot. For the women-folk stood gossiping excitedly at doors, while every man I came across seemed to be hurrying seaward.
"What is the news?" I asked of one who sped towards me.
"News!" he answered, turning his head upon his shoulder as he ran. "Three ships, black ships!"
"Well, what of that?" I shouted; but, heeding not, he fled upon his way.
Perceiving that there was little to be gained by questioning, I joined the merry rout which swarmed towards the sea-front. And there, sure enough, beating to windward in that part of the bay we call the Cod, were three strange foreign-looking vessels--one, by the rig of her, a frigate, though she showed no guns; the other two small merchantmen. And now I understood the cause of all this great excitement; for neither of the three ships flew a colour, and somehow, in that first swift glance, I felt they boded ill for little Lyme.
However, there was small room for thought just then. You know the Cobb, that world-famed mole of ours, which curves out seaward like a mighty shepherd's crook, and serves us for a harbour, quay, and everything? Well, everyone was making for that point of vantage, and so you may be sure I lost no time in following.
The far end of the Cobb (that is, the sea end) was already thickly covered with an excited, wondering crowd, and, shouldering my way into the front line, I soon learned much. How that these three mysterious craft had first been seen at daybreak beating in slowly against a northerly wind. How, later on, a ten-oared boat had put off from the largest vessel, with three men seated in her stern, and made for Seatown, a little creek some five miles farther down the coast; and, having landed there her passengers, had presently returned to the ship bearing but one of them. And, moreover, in conclusion, how an hour before (that is, before I reached the Cobb) Master Thomas Tye, surveyor of the port of Lyme, and some of his men, had rowed out to the ships themselves for information, gone aboard the frigate, and had not since been seen.
Most of this I learned from our deputy searcher of customs, Master Samuel Dassell, who, armed with his powerful telescope, stood close to me, and kept an eye on everything.