Chapter Six.
The second trip of the Nancy—Particulars of the landing—How it fared with Dick and Ben—Wandering in the forest—In hiding—Nearly caught—Seized by a pressgang—Kindness of the landlady at the Admiral Benbow—Ben Rudall a prisoner—On board the tender—Off Cowes—The Wolf—Mr Bitts, the boatswain—Dick recognises Lord Reginald and Voules—An attempt to make an exchange.
When Dick Hargrave sailed the second time on board the Nancy, he forgot the saying that “the pitcher which goes often to the well gets broken at last,” or that few who follow a lawless occupation escape from suffering in the end. Of course, he should have been influenced by a far higher motive, but he had not been taught to look upon smuggling in the same light which an honest man does nowadays. Even his father regarded it with a lenient eye, though he had ever refused to take a share in the proceedings of the smugglers by permitting his horses to be used in transporting the goods when landed on the coast. Dick had a tolerably pleasant life on board the Nancy, as Dore and the crew always treated him kindly.
The lugger, as before, ran into the quiet little harbour in which she was wont to take her goods on board, and had a narrow escape from a French cruiser; but had got free by the very common device of lowering all her canvas during the night and allowing her pursuer to pass her. Without further cause for alarm, she made the English coast. Dick, though he liked the life well enough, had no wish to continue in it; he wanted to see his parents and Janet, and to relieve their anxiety about him. He had resolved, therefore, to quit the Nancy, and to go on shore with Ben, who did not intend to make the next trip in her. It was settled, therefore, that he and Ben were to pull in one of the boats engaged in landing the cargo, and that afterwards they were to assist in escorting the goods safe into the interior. After they had once got away from the coast, there was but little danger of their being captured.
“All right,” said Ben to Dick, as the lugger stood in to the westward of the Shingles; “the revenue men have been told that there is to be a run made this very night, Portland way, and they will all have gone off there and left the coast clear for us, so that there is no fear as to our getting the goods safe on shore.”
There seemed every probability that Ben’s prognostications would prove true. The night was dark, and the wind sufficiently off shore to enable the Nancy to stand close in. The expected signals were seen. The anchor was dropped, the boats lowered, and immediately afterwards, others came off from the shore, bringing the satisfactory intelligence that everything was clear for the run. The vessel was rapidly unloaded. The greater part of her cargo had been discharged, and was already on the beach, when the reports of Lieutenant Hilton’s pistols were heard, and the smugglers found themselves beset on both sides by their enemies. Dick and Ben were already on shore, and were engaged in loading the packhorses.
“You get out of it, Dick,” said Ben, “either climb the cliff or run along the beach; you’ve nothing to fight for.”
Dick hesitated; he felt that it would be cowardly to desert his companions.