“We want to know why you chased and fired at us, sir,” he said, in the most innocent manner possible, addressing my uncle.
“For having contraband goods on board,” he answered.
“Lord love ye, sir—we have contraband goods aboard, sir!” replied the skipper, with a feigned look of surprise. “We was just taking our pleasuring, and didn’t know but what you was an enemy, or a pirate, or some chap of that sort, so we runned away, sir, do ye see.”
“Very well; you’ll remain on board the cutter for the present, and perhaps I may prove to the contrary,” said my uncle.
The smugglers were compelled, with a very bad grace, to go below; the wherry was dropped astern, and the cutter stood back over the ground we had before crossed. Before eight-bells we had picked up fifty tubs of brandy. As plenty of our people could swear that they saw a number of tubs thrown overboard from the wherry, there was no doubt of her being condemned. When our prisoners perceived that their escape was impossible, they seemed to screw themselves up to bear their reverses like brave men. Though somewhat down in the mouth, they apparently felt no ill-will, but were obedient and respectful. Luck was against them. They had tried to smuggle, and we, as in duty bound, had stopped them. The worst they had to expect was a few months’ residence in Winchester gaol. My uncle had each of them down separately in his cabin, to try and obtain any information they might be inclined to give, especially about Myers, whom he was most anxious to get hold of. From one of them he learned that a large lugger was to run across the following night but one, from Cherbourg; and he resolved to intercept her. A course was immediately shaped for that port. He had explained his plan to Hanks, who was to take the wherry with four hands and to keep a bright look-out for the lugger, and to board her if he met her, as soon as she was half-way across Channel. I obtained leave to accompany him, for though I could not be expected to do much while blows were being given and taken, I was considered a good hand at steering; and my uncle was glad to let me see as much service as possible, holding the opinion that in that way only could I become a good practical officer.
When we had got about mid Channel between Saint Catharine’s and Cherbourg, the cutter was hove-to and the wherry hauled up alongside.
“Success attend you,” said my uncle, as Hanks and I stepped into the wherry. “Mind, Mr Hanks, keep a sharp look-out for the lugger; but do not let anything else with a smuggling air about her escape unexamined.”
“Ay, ay, sir,” answered Hanks, as we shored off. “I hope to get hold of the lugger, and Myers in her.”
We had in the boat provisions for four or five days; cloaks, blankets, a compass, and lantern; with three muskets, and pistols and cutlasses for each person. Our directions were to cruise about for three days, should the weather remain moderate, and then to rejoin the cutter off the Needles. We started away with a light breeze and a smooth sea, and stood for a short way towards Cherbourg, while the cutter returned over part of the course she had come. The weather was very pleasant, and the sunbeams sparkled cheerily on the rippling wavelets caused by the meeting of the tide and wind, as we ran through the water at the rate of some five or six knots an hour. Hanks lighted his favourite short black pipe, such as in Ireland we should call a “dodeen.” He never indulged in a cigar, except one was given him. While he leaned back, with his legs stretched along the seats, I steered. I used to think it very hard that he would never let me smoke, but I have since been much obliged to him.
“This is what I call comfort, Neil,” said he. “One of the smooths of life; but it won’t last, so let us enjoy it while we can. Before long we may be getting broken heads, with a gale of wind into the bargain.”