CHAPTER THE SIXTH
Penwarden does his Duty
Late as it was, neither Dick nor Sam was fated to get any sleep forhours. They walked rapidly without speaking across the cliff towardsthe Towers, being in fact so tired and hungry that the thoughts of bothwere fixed on supper and bed. There was no path on this part of thecliff, except a faint track which daylight would have revealed, wherethe grass had been slightly worn by Joe Penwarden in his marchings toand fro. Ordinary pedestrians always avoided the windings of the shore,taking the high road farther inland.
The boys had come within a hundred yards of Penwarden's cottage, whenSam all at once took Dick by the sleeve, saying:
"Look, Maister Dick, there be some one at old Joe's door."
It was too dark to see clearly, but Dick could just distinguish, nowthat it was pointed out to him, a dark form close against thewhitewashed cottage on the side facing the sea.
"It's very odd at this time of night," he said. "We had better go andtell the man, whoever he is, where he can find Joe."
They hurried on, but had not gone more than half-way to the cottage whenthe figure moved from the door, and walked quickly in the direction ofthe Towers. There was a footpath at the back of the garden, over whichthe villagers had an immemorial right of way, though it was really theSquire's private property.
Dick was on the point of calling out when Sam checked him.
"That be Jake Tonkin," he said, quietly: "I know un by his bow legs.What med he want wi' old Joe, now?"
Jake was the son of Isaac Tonkin, the expertest fisher, the boldestseaman, and the most cunning and resourceful smuggler in the village.Isaac was a rough, quick-tempered fellow, violent when roused, buthonest according to his lights; and Dick had a certain admiration forhim, as every boy must have for a strong man who excels in bold anddaring deeds. Once or twice he had gone fishing in Tonkin's smack, andhad learnt a good deal from the man's blunt speech and craftsmanlikeactions.
It was perfectly well known in the neighbourhood that Tonkin was theringleader of the smugglers, but owing to his wariness and craft, and tothe supineness of the revenue officer who had preceded Mr. Mildmay,nothing had ever been openly proved against him, and he had never beencaught in the act. In the previous winter he had narrowly escaped aconflict with Mr. Mildmay, then in his first year of duty at this partof the coast; and it was common talk in the village that he resented theintrusion, as he regarded it, of so zealous an officer, and had promisedto give the revenue men a very hot time if they interfered with him. Itwas he whose presence John Trevanion had remarked as he passed the opendoor of the tap-room in Doubledick's inn.
Dick was as much surprised as Sam to find that Penwarden's visitor wasTonkin's son. There was naturally no love lost between the excisemanand the free-traders, who had, however, looked upon him with a sort ofcontemptuous tolerance until Mr. Mildmay came. The old man had beenharmless enough in the days of Mr. Curgenven; not that he was remiss inhis duty, but that his efforts had been rendered nugatory by hissuperior's apathy. The advent of Mr. Mildmay acted as a stimulus;Penwarden was in truth fearful of being thought too old for his work,and seemed to set himself deliberately to prove the contrary to theofficer. More than once in the previous winter he had prevented a runby his timely warnings; and though the checks were only temporary, thesmugglers were annoyed with him for the difficulties he threw in theirway. It was therefore strange that young Tonkin should have gone tovisit, so late at night, a man from whom the smugglers in general heldseverely aloof. Suddenly Dick remembered what Penwarden had said aboutMr. Mildmay having been summoned to Morvah, twenty-five miles or moredown the coast. It was a favourite device of the smugglers, by aid ofconfederates, to decoy the officers to distant parts when they wereintending to make a run, and Dick could not help wondering whether theywere putting it in practice on the present occasion. But it did notexplain Jake Tonkin's visit, and Dick was now sufficiently interested tothink no more of his fatigue and hunger in his desire to ascertain whatwas afoot. He knew that it was no business of his; the Squire hadcarefully abstained from taking sides in the perennial quarrel betweenthe smugglers and the revenue men, and had indeed resigned hismagistracy, partly because of his reduced circumstances, but quite asmuch in order to avoid any official action as a county justice. Dickdid not intend to break this neutrality; he was simply curious andathirst for excitement.
But he reflected that he could hardly satisfy his curiosity withoutspying on Jake Tonkin, and this was out of the question. He would haveruefully done nothing more had he not seen that the lad, instead ofkeeping to the path that ran directly to the village, struck off to theleft along a track that led nowhere but to the Dower House. This raisedhis curiosity to a still higher pitch. What had Tonkin to do with JohnTrevanion? Knowing that his father and John were on bad terms, andhaving seen many little indications that the latter was bent on annoyinghis cousin, it was natural that he should wonder whether the interestsof the Squire were in any way affected by the apparent connectionbetween John and the smugglers. After a little hesitation, he sent Saminto the Towers, to reassure his parents and then go to bed, and went onhimself after the waddling figure of Jake Tonkin, now almost out ofsight.
Walking quickly, he was in time to see Jake enter an outhouse at therear of the mansion. The door closed behind him, and Dick, taking alook round, and seeing no one, ran swiftly to the building and peepedthrough the window. The room was lighted by a single candle, whose raysfell on the forms of a dozen men seated on chairs, stools, pails, andthe table. All had their faces blackened, and he failed to discoveramong them the large and massive form, almost impossible to disguise, ofJake's father.
"He be fast asleep," he heard Jake say, evidently in answer to aquestion. "I knocked once, a little un; then twice, rayther louder;then I tried the door: 'twas locked. I didn't hear un snore, but maybehe sleeps quiet."
"Hee! hee! 'a will sleep quieter in the grave," said a voice, which Dickhad no difficulty in recognising as that of Doubledick, the innkeeper,whose conversation was always partial to death and the churchyard andsimilar cheerful subjects.
"Mildmay would fly in a passion if he knew old Joe were asleep," said aman whose voice Dick could not identify.
"Ay, and so would riding-officer," added a third. He referred to theofficial so denominated, whose duty it was to work on shore hand in handwith Mr. Mildmay on the sea, and who was in effect in charge of thecoast for ten or fifteen miles, acting under the Custom House officer atSt. Ives.
"Oh, 't'ud only be a little small passion," said Doubledick, "'cos thesummer bean't over, and not a man of 'em will look for us to begin aforepilchur fishin' be past."
"Body o' me, hain't we 'ticed Mildmay away to stop a run?"
"Nay, sonny, 'twas tidings of a French privateer that baited him. 'Tisa proper dark night, and if the wind holds, Zacky will be here a littlearter midnight. And the manin' o' that is twenty pound in our pockets,a noble fust lesson to say 'magnify' arter."
Dick sighed inwardly; what a boon twenty pounds would be to his father'simpoverished treasury! Like all the gentlemen of the county, the Squirewas willing to purchase smuggled goods; it seemed to Dick that there wasnot a great distinction between the purchaser and the smuggler; and yethe knew that his father would be horrified at the idea of enrichinghimself in that way. From what he had overheard it was clear that arun, the first of the season, was to be attempted that night, and sincethis did not concern the Squire, he was about to return home, when heheard the click of a lock, followed by footsteps from the house, andslipped round the angle of the building just in time to escape the eyesof John Trevanion.
The owner of the Dower House joined the smugglers, and Dick heard hisloud and hearty greeting.
"Well, my friends, is all clear? No scent for the hounds, eh?"
"Not so much as would cover a penny-piece," cried Doubledick. "Hee!hee! Old Joe's abed."
"I'm glad of it. Mind
you, you must not bring the tubs here if there'sany interruption. It would never do for the county to know that I'm afreighter."
"Trust we for that, yer honour; we know you must keep up yer high place,and 'tis generous of 'ee to lend us yer cellars."
"Well, Doubledick, here's the key. I shall be abed, of course; I knownothing about your doings, and I can trust you to work quietly and notwake the servants."
"Iss, fay, yer honour," said a man: "ye can trust Billy Doubledick, tobe sure. He be a very clever feller: I say it to his face."
"Good night, then. I wish you well."
Dick heard his cousin return to the house and lock the door. So JohnTrevanion was a freighter: one who bought contraband goods in a foreignport, paid the expenses of shipment and carrying, and received theprofits. This was food for reflection. A word to Mr. Mildmay or Mr.Polwhele, the riding-officer, would lead to John Trevanion's arrest.The fate of smugglers caught in the act was five years' service in aman-of-war, or a long term of imprisonment; aiders and abettors alsowere subject to heavy penalties; and Dick would have liked to rid theneighbourhood of the man who had caused his father such distress. Buthe could not play the shabby part of informer, and for the first time inhis life he wished heartily that the smugglers might be caught, andtheir connection with Trevanion discovered; hitherto his sympathies hadbeen entirely on their side.
Since there was nothing to be gained by remaining longer at theouthouse, he went quietly away and walked back towards the Towers. Buthe was so much interested in his strange discovery that he felt it wouldbe impossible to sleep until he knew whether the run proved successful.On reaching home, therefore, he went first to his mother's room to bidher good-night, then to the dining-room to get some supper, and shortlyafter eleven o'clock stole out again. He had never seen a smugglingrun, and the likelihood that this one would be entirely undisturbedpromised a peaceful view, without any risk of running into danger, ofwhich he knew that his parents would disapprove.
He had not learnt where the run was to be, but guessed, if the tubs wereto be carried to the cellars of the Dower House, that the head ofTrevanion Bay would be the chosen spot. It was the most convenientplace near to the Dower House, except the little harbour itself, whichwas not likely to be selected. He made his way, therefore, along thenarrow headland known as the Beal, which formed the southern boundary ofthe bay. Near the end of the headland, overlooking the narrow passagebetween it and the reef, by which vessels could enter the harbour at lowtide, was the favourite playground of his early boyhood. It was ahollow in the cliff, screened from observation seaward by a huge bouldersomewhat insecurely poised. Only a few years had passed since Sam andhe used to play there at fighting the French. There they had their toycitadel, from which they bombarded Boney's squadrons attempting aninvasion. From it, too, they could see on to the decks of vesselspassing in and out of the harbour at low tide, and hugging the cliff toavoid the reef. They played also at smuggling, and it is noteworthythat they were always the successful smugglers, and never the baulkedand discomfited preventive men. It was a lonely spot, and they had itquite to themselves except for the gulls.
When, as they grew older, they no longer took the same childish delightin playing French and English, they turned the place into a storehousefor fishing gear. In a remote corner of the nook, they scooped out theearth to form a deep recess, lined this with wood, and kept there areserve supply of hooks, tackle, rope, a spare anchor and sculls, twofowling-pieces, and other articles, by this means often savingthemselves a journey back to the Towers. Lonely as the spot was, theyoften quaked with apprehension lest their secret should be discovered,especially during the pilchard season. At that time the huer, whose dutyit was to keep watch, and indicate by flourishing a bush, for thebenefit of the fishers below, the direction in which the shoals of fishwere swimming, was accustomed to take his stand on the headland. But henaturally chose the highest point, and had no reason to seek the lowerlevel of the cave, where he could neither see nor be seen so well. Theboys were always careful to avoid the neighbourhood of their storehousewhen the huer was about, and there being nothing to draw any one else tothe spot, the secret had remained undiscovered.
It was towards this place that Dick proceeded on leaving the Towers.But when he arrived there, he found at once that if the smugglers' cargowas to be run in the bay it would be impossible to see anything of it.The night was particularly dark; only such moonless nights were chosenby the smugglers for their operations; and even the grey cliffs werealmost invisible from where he stood. He determined, therefore, toreturn along the headland, and make his way down the face of the cliffby the path whereby he had ascended with Sam on the night of their bassfishing. There were recesses at the foot, in one of which he couldeasily conceal himself and watch all that went on. And as there was notime to lose, if he was to be in hiding before the smugglers arrived, hewalked rapidly, and climbed down the steep path at a pace that wouldhave been dangerous to any one who was not well acquainted with it.
He was unaware that a figure was following him. There was no sound offootsteps to attract his attention: he did not look back, and if he haddone so he could hardly have seen the form that steadily kept pace withhim at the distance of sixty or seventy yards. The second figuredescended the path with the same surefooted ease, paused at the foottill Dick was out of sight, and then stole after him and ensconcedhimself in a hollow of the cliff only about three yards from that inwhich Dick had stationed himself. These hiding-places were some twentyyards from the bottom of the path.
Neither of the two silent watchers suspected that, on the cliff abovethem, a third figure was approaching the path by which they haddescended, but from the opposite direction. Old Penwarden, so far frombeing snugly asleep, as Jake Tonkin rashly concluded, had never beenmore wide-awake in his life. The summoning of Mr. Mildmay to adistance, the lateness of the pilchard season, and the darkness of thenight, combined to make him suspicious, and he had resolved to patrolthe cliff from St. Cuby's Well to the Beal, to satisfy himself that thesmugglers were not already at their tricks. Having smoked through hispipe at the Well, he returned to his cottage, took the telescope, thebrace of pistols, the ammunition, the cutlass, and the blue light forgiving an alarm which were his regular equipment, and began to marchslowly and quietly up and down.
About ten minutes after the lads had taken up their positions, theyheard a stone come rattling down the path twenty yards to the left. Afew seconds after, they were just able to discern a dark figure emergeon to the beach. This was followed by another, and a third, and soonthe whole beach was alive with dusky shapes. The tide was ebbing, but astiff breeze sent long rollers dashing over the sand, their roar andrustle smothering the low voices of the men as they talked fitfullytogether.
The watchers saw one of the men drive an iron post firmly into the sandand attach to it the end of a rope. The other end was fastened to asimilar post in the earth at the top of the cliff. By this means a railwas formed, to give assistance to the carriers as they climbed up withtheir burdens.
A little later there came from seaward a faint creak, scarcelydistinguishable among the other sounds. The watchers pricked up theirears. Even at low tide there was enough water beneath the cliffs toenable a vessel to run in very close, and the hidden spectators guessedthat a lugger was drawing in: at present they could not see it. Theshore men were all low down on the beach. In a few minutes the mencould be heard splashing in the water as they waded out to the vessel.Then the lugger itself appeared, a dark shape on the surface.
Soon the men could be seen returning in a long line, each one apparentlytwice as big as before. Each bore two tubs, one in front, one behind,slung over his shoulders by ropes which had been fitted before they leftthe lugger.
Several of the men had deposited their burdens on the beach, and weregoing back for more, when there was a noise of scrambling on the path.Work ceased instantly. A figure ran a few yards towards the sea, andspoke to a large man who appeared to b
e directing the operations. Hiswords were just audible to the watchers.
"Old Joe be comin' along cliff-top, Feyther."
"But they told me you said 'a was asleep."
"So 'a was, but 'a must ha' waked up. He be comin', sure enough."
"You must be a cussed stunpoll, then, to come slitherin' down cliff likethat, makin' a rattle to wake the dead. Well, no matter. We can dealwi' old Joe, if so be as he's alone."
"Iss, he be alone. I pulled up the post and brought the ropedown-along."
"You've some sense in yer skull, then. Now you, Pendred, and you, SimonMail, go up cliff and keep a watch. Stand yerselves in that narrow partthree-quarters of the way up, and if the old meddler comes, seize un,and choke un, but don't do un a hurt unless he shows fight. We don'twant no crowner's quest."
The two men selected to waylay the exciseman set off to climb the cliff,and the work of running the cargo was resumed.
Dick was in a quandary. He had no interest in doing preventive work,and there were many reasons why he should refrain from interfering. Butold Penwarden was a friend of his, and a mettlesome old fellow, whowould certainly not allow himself to be seized without a struggle.Moreover, being armed, as he doubtless was, he would have a temporaryadvantage over the smugglers, who, expecting no opposition, wouldprobably have no weapons with them but their knives. But it might wellbe that in the struggle the smugglers, driven to desperation, would makeshort work of rushing upon him and flinging him over the cliff; or ifthe struggle were prolonged, they could summon help from below,overpower him, and truss him up. In either case the old man would be inconsiderable danger, for the smugglers, when their passions werearoused, would not be over-scrupulous.
These considerations flashed through Dick's mind in a second. He couldnot let Penwarden run into danger unwarned; yet how was the warning tobe given? There was but one way. A few yards to the right of the spotwhere he stood it was possible to scale the cliff. The ascent was muchlonger and more arduous than the regular path, and there was the riskthat he would not be in time. Unless he gained the cliff-top beforePenwarden had passed, he would be too late. There was not a moment tospare.
Dropping down on hands and knees behind a boulder that intercepted theview seaward, he crawled as fast as he could towards a slightindentation of the cliff beyond which he would be invisible to thesmugglers, and where the ascent began. He was followed within a fewmoments by the second watcher. Just as he was beginning to climb heheard a low whisper behind him.
"I be comin' too, Maister Dick."
"You here, Sam? What do you mean by this?"
"Don't 'ee talk, now. I'll tell 'ee when we get to top."
They scrambled up the face of the cliff as actively as goats, clutchingat stunted bushes and tufts of coarse grass, dodging awkward corners,fearful lest the stones and loose earth they disturbed should strikeupon the boulders below and reveal their presence to the smugglers.Both were active lads with good wind, and their progress was no doubtmore rapid, foot for foot, than that of the smugglers on the path ahundred yards to the right, encumbered as they were with their heavysea-boots. But this advantage in speed was counterbalanced by thegreater length of their course, though this in its turn was compensatedby the fact that, unless Penwarden had already passed, they would be ahundred yards nearer to him when they reached the top.
In six minutes from the start, panting with their exertions, they heavedthemselves over the brink of the cliff and stood erect. Twenty yards totheir right, Penwarden was in the act of raising his telescope to spyover the waters of the bay. With trembling limbs they ran towards him,Dick giving him warning of their presence by a low clear whisper. Theold exciseman shut up his telescope with a snap, and turned.
"'Tis you, Maister Dick!" he said.
"Yes. Some one saw you. Two men are waiting for you on the path. Ican't tell you their names. You'll be knocked over if you try to godown."
"That's the way o't, is it? We'll see about that. Thank'ee for thewarning. You didn't tell me they be running a cargo, but I know it.I'll dash their tricks."
"But, Joe--"
"Don't stop me," said Penwarden, shaking off Dick's detaining arm."'Tis my duty to stop this run, Mr. Mildmay being haled off on awild-goose chase, and do it I will. But get 'ee home-along, sir, youare best out o' this, though if 'ee were a bit older, dash my bones if Iwouldn't call on 'ee to help in the King's name."
Without more ado, he took from his pocket the blue light, struck a sparkfrom his tinder-box, and in a moment the cliff-top for many yards aroundwas illuminated by the brilliant sputtering flame. It was intended towarn the lieutenant of the revenue cutter, if he were within sight, andto draw from their cottages in the village the tidesmen, as they werecalled, whose duty it was, on the alarm being given, to hasten to theexciseman's assistance. These men were cobblers, tinkers, and othersmall tradesmen, for the most part Methodists, who were ready to bravethe hostility of the smugglers for the sake of good pay and a bounty forevery hogshead seized.
Dick was aghast. Things were turning out even worse than he expected.The light would enrage the smugglers, and they would be in no mood tohandle the old man gently. Penwarden was already hurrying towards thepath. It seemed to Dick sheer madness for one man, and a man no longeryoung, to attempt to deal with a score of rough and determinedsmugglers. He was rushing headlong upon destruction. All care for whatmight be the consequences to himself vanished from Dick's mind; he couldnot leave the exciseman to his fate. But what could he do to help him,without weapon of any kind? He suddenly bethought him of thefowling-pieces laid up in the little nook on the Beal.
"Come, Sam," he said, and started to run at full speed to fetch them.They passed Penwarden like a flash; there might just be time to returnbefore he encountered the ambushed men. The blue light was nowextinguished, and sea and land were covered with the former darkness.
Much fleeter of foot than Sam, Dick outstripped him in a few seconds,and ran on alone to the little cave. He seized the fowling-pieces, anddiscovered that there was no ammunition; nevertheless, he raced backwith them; they might serve to over-awe the smugglers, or in the lastresort be used as clubs.
He had only just rejoined Sam when they heard a rough voice call out acommand to halt, and Penwarden's answer.
"Stand aside, in the King's name."
Clearly the dauntless old man had arrived at the spot where thesmugglers were in wait for him. The boys dashed forward, came to thehead of the path, and ran recklessly down, Dick hoping that they mightstill be in time to prevent mischief. But before they reached the sceneof the scuffle, they heard the noise of some heavy body crashing downthe cliff, and then the roar of a pistol. Immediately afterwards theycaught sight of two figures hurrying down the path.
"They've killed un dead!" muttered Sam.
With his heart in his mouth, Dick ran down the path, slipping,recovering himself, and running again. Sam was close behind. Abouthalf-way down a body lay huddled on a projecting ledge, which had brokenits fall and prevented it from crashing to the base of the cliff. Dickstooped over it, expecting to see Penwarden shot to the heart. To hisintense relief he heard a groan, and turning the man over, he was justable to perceive that his face was blackened. Joe, then, had escaped,and was one of the two who had gone down the path and were now out ofsight.
The two boys hurried on. There was a great hubbub below them; havingbeen discovered, the smugglers no longer troubled to preserve silence;and Dick, hearing their angry shouts and curses, feared that Penwarden'squixotic action in attempting to tackle them single-handed would provehis destruction. He took the rest of the path in reckless leaps, and,when he reached the beach, saw that the old exciseman had posted himselfbeside a row of tubs which he had seized in the King's name.
In the confusion Dick's arrival was unobserved. The smugglers werethronging up the beach with threatening cries. Penwarden's pistolflashed, but next moment a heavy missile, hurled by one of the men,struck him on the head,
and he fell.
"Throw un into the sea," shouted a rough voice.
Half-a-dozen men rushed towards the prostrate man and began to drag himtowards the water.
"Stand!" cried Dick, dashing forward. "Loose him, or we'll fire."
"'STAND!' CRIED DICK, DASHING FORWARD. 'LEAVE HIM, ORWE'LL FIRE.'"]
A sudden silence fell upon the scene. The men who held Penwarden's armsstood aside; the others edged away, taken aback by this unexpectedintervention; there had not been time for the tidesmen to arrive fromthe village. Dick and Sam stood over the exciseman, pointing theiruseless muskets at the crowd. For a moment there was absolutestillness; then one of the men murmured:
"'Tis young Maister Trevanion."
"Yes," cried Dick, "and I warn you that if any of you lays a hand on theold man again I will report you all to Sir Bevil. I know you, for allyour black faces. There's Doubledick, and Tonkin, and----"
"Iss, 'tis I, and I don't care who knows it," interrupted Tonkin,pushing forward. "What 'nation call ha' you got to meddle, cuss you!"
"I don't meddle with your trade; it's nothing to me; but I won't see anold fellow killed by a pack of ruffians."
Tonkin cursed again, but some one drew him back and spoke to him in lowtones. The fact that the interruption had come from the Squire's sonwas more daunting than the lads' muskets, which had no terror for armedmen accustomed to contend with equal numbers. But the name ofTrevanion, in spite of the fallen fortunes of the house, was still amoral power in the country-side, and, further, if any harm befell theSquire's heir, they could not escape a heavy retribution.
After a few moments' colloquy, a man came forward.
"Hark 'ee, sir," he said, and Dick recognised his voice as Doubledick's,in spite of an attempt to disguise it. "We take it hard as you'vemeddled wi' honest free-traders as never did 'ee no harm. As for oldJoe, 'twas only a bit of fun--hee! hee!--he bean't for drownin'. What Isays I says for all, and that is, we'll let 'ee take un away if you dogive us yer sacred word not to gie our names to Sir Bevil or Mr.Mildmay,--them as you knows."
"I don't want to play informer," replied Dick. "I agree to that."
"Not a word to a soul?"
"No. I've said so."
"That's fair spoke," said the man, turning to the rest.
A murmur of approval broke from them. Dick at once lifted Penwarden,with Sam's help, from the pool of water in which he was lying. It wasdifficult to keep him on his feet, for he was as yet only partiallyconscious. Without either assistance or interference from the smugglersthey led him slowly to the foot of the path, and, one on each side ofhim, began to carry, rather than walk, him up the cliff. One of thesmugglers dogged them throughout the toilsome ascent. When they came tothe place where the man had fallen, after a shrewd thrust fromPenwarden's cutlass, they found that he had disappeared, having no doubtmade his way homeward.
"Thank 'ee for this, Maister Dick," murmured Penwarden when they pausedto rest at the cliff-top. "I'll have the law of those tidesmen for notcomin' when they was called."
"No doubt they didn't see your light. And look here, Joe, I promisednot to split on the men, so I want you to promise too."
"Daze me if I could split if I tried. I didn't see one of 'em plain,nor hear their voices, and I got this crack on the head afore I couldtell one from t'other."
"Do it hurt much, maister?" asked Sam.
"More'n you'd care about, young Sam. But 'tis nawthin' at all to thecracks and wounds we got when we served wi' Lord Admiral Rodney. Have Itelled 'ee what 'a said to me purticler one day on Plymouth Hoe?"
"Yes, yes," said Dick, quickly. "The sooner you are in bed the better."
They took him slowly to his cottage, where Dick put him to bed, gave himsome brandy, and bathed his wounded head.
"You'll stop with him to-night, Sam," he said. "Don't leave him untilGammer Oliver comes in the morning."
"What'll 'ee say to Feyther, Maister Dick? I'm afeard he'll be in aterrible rage wi' poor me."
"I'll make that right. Now, lock the door when I've gone, and give Mr.Penwarden anything he wants during the night. I'll come over in themorning."
It was nearly two o'clock before Dick got to bed, and day was breakingbefore he slept. Meanwhile the smugglers finished their workunmolested, and before morning eighty tubs of good French spirits lay inthe capacious cellars beneath the Dower House.
The Adventures of Dick Trevanion: A Story of Eighteen Hundred and Four Page 6