Roger Willoughby: A Story of the Times of Benbow

by William Henry Giles Kingston

“They are not steering for Lyme,” said Alice, “but are coming on directly for our bay.”

“Can they be the craft reported to have been fallen in with by the Lyme vessel?” observed the Colonel.

“I pray that they may not be, as those too likely contained fugitives from Monmouth’s army,” said Alice.

“There must be some one on board who knows this bay, or they would not be steering for it,” said the Colonel. “As the vessels are small, the crews may hope to run them up on the beach and escape through the surf.”

In spite of the wind the Colonel and his adopted daughter were unwilling to leave the Downs till they knew the fate of the boats. The pathway down to the beach was too steep for the horses to descend, or in their eagerness they would have gone down. The Colonel rode as close as he could to the edge of the cliff, to see if he could observe old Ben Rullock, or some other fisherman, in order to desire them to make preparations for rescuing the storm-tossed crews, whosoever they might be. While he was watching he observed several persons coming along the cliff.

“The fellows are on the look-out for those boats,” he said to himself. “I wish they had not discovered them, for if the people on board are fugitives, should they escape the waves, they will fall into their scarcely less remorseless clutches.” He watched the men as they descended the cliffs, but could not see what had become of them. “I verily believe they have hidden themselves, that they may pounce out on their prey, and give them less chance of escaping.”

The guards, who were all armed, seemed to have made signals to others, who came hurrying up till nearly a dozen were collected about the same spot. A reef of rocks ran off on the west side of the bay, which, circling round, formed a sort of breakwater, which, in moderate weather, enabled Ben Rullock and other fishermen to leave their boats at anchor in security, though at present they were all hauled up. It required nice steering to enter the bay so as to avoid the end of the reef; the two boats approached, their shattered appearance showing the urgent necessity which had induced them to steer for the land. Some of the people in them were baling, others pumping, both pressing eagerly on, almost abreast, instead of following each other. At length they drew close to the bay, when one, standing more to the westward than she ought to have done, struck the end of a reef. The next sea scattered her fragments, and she literally melted away from sight, leaving those who had been on board struggling helplessly in the waves. In vain those in the other boat threw out ropes to rescue the drowning people; they succeeded in dragging only one on board. As far as could be seen from the top of the cliff, the remainder perished miserably. Alice uttered a shriek of horror as she saw the catastrophe; no help could apparently be afforded from the shore; the other boat rushed forward up the bay, and disappeared beneath the cliff.

“The poor fellows have escaped a watery grave, but only to find themselves prisoners in the hands of their enemies,” cried the Colonel.

Shouts and cries heard above the roaring of the seas came up from below the cliffs; then all was still. After the lapse of a few minutes a number of men appeared coming up the cliff which led down to Ben Rullock’s cottage; they were the soldiers guarding six prisoners. The Colonel, followed by Alice, rode forward to inquire where the prisoners were to be conveyed, with a charitable wish to do what he could to alleviate their sufferings. Poor Alice could scarcely restrain the cry which rose from her breast as she saw the first of the prisoners, who was Stephen Battiscombe, followed by his brother Andrew; but she knew the Colonel’s generous intentions. The state of the prisoners was sufficient, it might have been thought, to excite the compassion of their captors; they looked utterly broken-down and emaciated, as if they had long been in want of food, while the bitter disappointment they must have felt at finding themselves immediately on landing in the hands of their foes completely overcame them. Stephen lifting his eyes recognised Alice; he bowed his head, and then cast his eyes again to the ground, as if he felt he had so completely disobeyed her wish that she could have no further interest in him.

“Where are you going to take these persons, my friends?” asked the Colonel of the soldiers. “Judging from their appearance they are scarce able to walk, much less to march any distance, and the sun is nearly setting. Whoever they may be, or whatever they have done, they are our fellow-creatures, and in sore distress. They certainly were not flying from the country, for you all saw that they steered for the shore, and evidently intended to land instead of attempting to go farther. I shall be glad if you will bring them on to Eversden Manor,—it is not far from this,—and I will give you and them quarters and provisions, which they at all events, judging from their looks, sorely want.”