The Second G.A. Henty

by G. A. Henty

  “Julian!” Frank exclaimed in astonishment. “Why, what in the world had Julian got to do with it?”

  “Well, sir,” the sailor said apologetically, “you see it was like this. Mr. Julian is a young gentleman as loves a bit of a spree, and he has been out many a night with some of us to see a cargo run.”

  Frank uttered an exclamation of surprise and consternation.

  “I thought perhaps as you knowed it, sir.”

  “I never dreamt of such a thing, Bill. How could Julian have been so mad as to mix himself up in such a business? I suppose this is your doing; you must have led him into this mischief.”

  “No, sir,” the sailor said in an aggrieved voice. “How was I to lead a young gentleman like your brother into a thing as he didn’t choose to do? I don’t say as I didn’t mention to him, promiscuous like, that I lent a hand some times in running a cargo; but how was I to know as he would up and say, ‘I will go with you some night, Bill.’ Well, I argues with him, and I points out to him as he might get into a scrape; but, says he, ‘I am not going to take no share in it, but just want to look on and see the fun,’ as he calls it. I points out to him as it was not always fun, but he puts that aside, and, says he, it would not be fun unless there was a little excitement about it. He promised me faithful that he would always cut and run as soon as he heard there was any talk of the revenue men a-coming, and what was I to do? I don’t say, sir, as how if it had been you I would have taken you with me, ’cause you are young, you see, and I should have felt as I was ’sponsible for you. But Mr. Julian is a man now, and when he says, ‘I mean to go with you anyhow, Bill,’ it was not for me to say, you sha’n’t go. Mr. Julian, he is a sort of gent that gets over one somehow, and there ain’t no saying ‘no’ to him.”

  “Well, it is of no use talking about that now,” Frank said impatiently. “First tell me all about it, and then we will see what had best be done.”

  “Well, Master Frank, it was eight miles to the west. The chaps concerned in it thought they had managed to throw dust into the eyes of Captain Downes, and to get the Boxer away to Swanage, and how he got wind of the affair, and where it was to be, is more nor I can tell. Everything was going on smooth enough, and half the cargo was in the carts, when all of a sudden there was a shout ‘Surrender, you scoundrels!’ and that fellow Faulkner dashed up with a pistol in his hand, and behind him came a score of revenue men. I dodged under a cart and bolted. I heard some pistol shots fired, for just at that time a lot of the smugglers had come up to the carts with kegs. As if the firing on shore had been a signal, I heard directly after some guns down by the water, and knew that Downes and the Boxer had come on the lugger. I made straight back, but I could not sleep all night for wondering whether Mr. Julian had got off too, and I was up afore it was light, and went round to one or two of the other chaps as was there. One had not come back; the other had only been in half an hour. He had hid up, close to where we was surprised.

  “After it was over the revenue chaps lit a lot of lanterns and then made a big fire, and by its light my mate could see pretty well what was going on. They had got about twenty prisoners. Most of the country people and carts had, luckily enough for them, gone off with their loads a few minutes afore the revenue men came up. A dozen pack-horses and three or four carts had been took, and, in course, all the loads the men were carrying up. Among those who was took was Mr. Julian. He was standing close to me when they came up, and I expect he was collared immediate. Faulkner, he sat down on a tub by the side of the fire and takes out a book, and the prisoners was brought up one by one and questions asked them. Mr. Julian was one of the last. Faulkner got up from his seat and rowed him tremendous. What he said my mate could not catch, but he could hear his voice, and he was going on at him cruel; then I suppose Mr. Julian lost his temper, and my mate says he could see that he was giving it him back hot. I expect it was something wonderful hard and nasty he said, for Faulkner jumped at him and hit him in the face. Then your brother threw himself on him. My mate says he would have thrown him backwards into the fire, if some of the revenue men had not seized him and dragged him off.

  “After that there was a row between Faulkner and Captain Downes, who had come up just before with half a dozen sailors. I expect Downes was telling him that he ought to be ashamed of himself. Anyhow they got to high words, as was easy to be heard. Half an hour later most of them started with the prisoners, leaving half a dozen of the officers to look after the things they had taken. When they had gone, my mate went down close to the water, and was able to make out the cutter and the lugger anchored close together—so she has been caught. There was nothing else to wait for, so he tramped off home and had only been in a few minutes before I came to him.”

  “This is awful,” Frank said, in dismay. “The only thing I see that can be done is for me to go and have a talk with Captain Downes. He was a friend of my father’s; and I think he is a kind-hearted man, though, of course, he has to be sharp in carrying out his duty of trying to put down smuggling. Well, I will run in for breakfast now, or my aunt will wonder what has become of me; then I will go straight on board theBoxer.

  “She is not in yet,” Bill said. “She would not start until daylight; and I don’t suppose she will be round for another two hours. You see she is not clear of Portland Bill yet.”

  “That is unfortunate. However, I hope I shall see him before the magistrates sit. What time do they meet?”

  “They generally sit at eleven o’clock; but it ain’t their day, and they will have to be summoned special. I should not wonder if they don’t meet till two o’clock; because they could not be sure what time the Boxerwill get round, and, as he will have taken some prisoners in the lugger, they would not begin until he arrived.”

  “Very well; I will go round to the court-house after breakfast, and inquire what time the sitting will be. Anyhow, I hope to be able to see the lieutenant before they meet. I don’t know that any good can come of it; for, as he had nothing to do with Julian’s capture, he certainly would not be able to save him from appearing, especially after that row with Faulkner.”

  “He’s a bad un that, Master Frank, and I wish your brother had chucked him into that fire. A bit of burning might have done him good; and, if ever a chap deserved it, he did.”

  Frank went back into the house.

  “My dear Frank,” Mrs. Troutbeck exclaimed, “where have you been? I have never known you keep breakfast waiting before. Why, what is the matter, dear? Nothing about Julian, I hope; hasn’t he come home yet?”

  “No, Aunt; and I am sorry to say that he has got into an awkward scrape. It seems that he went out, for the fun of the thing, to see a cargo run. The revenue people came up, and he was one of those who were caught. Of course he had nothing to do with the smuggling part of the business, nor with a bit of a fight there was. Still, as he was there, I am afraid there is no doubt that he will have to appear before the magistrates with the others.”

  Mrs. Troutbeck sat in speechless consternation.

  “Oh, dear! oh, dear!” she exclaimed at last. “How could he have been so silly? It is dreadful, my dear, and it will be such a disgrace. What shall we do?”

  “There is nothing to do, Aunt, that I can see. As to the disgrace, that is nothing very dreadful. No end of people are mixed up in smuggling; and I have heard that many of the gentry wink at it, and are glad enough to buy a keg of brandy cheap without asking any questions where it comes from. So the mere fact that Julian went to have a look at a cargo being run is not anything very serious. I suppose it was against the law even to be present, but there was nothing disgraceful about it. It is lucky my holidays began last week, and if there is anything to be done I can do it.”

  “Could not Mr. Downes get him off? He used often to be here in your father’s time, though I have not seen much of him since; but I am sure he would do anything he could.”

  “I have been thinking of that, Aunt. The Boxer was there last night and captured the smuggler, but her cre
w had nothing to do with the fight on shore; and, therefore, I don’t think there is any chance of his being able to interfere in the matter. Still, I will see him as soon as the cutter comes in.”

  On going down to the court-house, Frank found that the magistrates would meet at two o’clock. Then, as the Boxer had only just appeared round Portland, he went and saw the chief officer of the coast-guard to endeavour to obtain permission to have an interview with Julian.

  “I am sorry I can do nothing in the matter, lad,” he replied. “It is out of my hands, owing to a magistrate being present at the capture. It was, indeed, his business more than ours; for it was he who obtained information of the affair, and called upon us to aid him in the capture of men engaged in unlawful practices. Therefore, you see, the prisoners are in the hands of the civil authorities. I hear he has given strict orders that no one is, on any pretence, to speak to the prisoners.”

  “I hear that he struck my brother.”

  “I don’t know how you heard it, lad, but it is true. However, I do not feel at liberty to say anything about it. I am very sorry for your brother, who is a fine young fellow. However, I hope that as he was unarmed, and was not, I suppose, actually concerned in the smuggling business, the matter will be passed over lightly, even if he is not discharged at once. At any rate, we shall in no way press the case against him.”

  Frank, indeed, afterwards learned that the officer dropped a hint to the men to make as little as possible of Julian’s capture, and of the vigorous resistance he had made when first seized.

  The Boxer dropped anchor off the town at twelve o’clock, and the lieutenant landed at once. The officer of the coast-guard went down to meet him on the quay, and for half an hour they walked up and down the parade together, in earnest conversation. Frank remained on the opposite side of the road until they stopped, and the commander of the Boxerbeckoned to him.

  “Well, lad,” he said, as Frank came up, “this is a nasty scrape that your brother has got into; but I don’t think they can do anything to him. Mr. Moorsby has been telling me that you have been to him; but neither he nor I can do anything in the matter—it is in the civil hands. If it had been anyone else but Faulkner who had been in charge, I have no doubt it could have been managed. Of course, your brother ought not to have been there, but as he was only looking on, and taking no active part in the affair, he might have been released without any difficulty. However, I don’t think you need worry yourself. Certainly, we shall not press the case against him. It is unfortunate that he used his tongue as sharply as he did to Mr. Faulkner, though I don’t say but that he had great provocation, or that what he said was not perfectly true; still, it would have been much better left unsaid. However, I question if before the hearing is over Faulkner will not have cause to regret that he did not let your brother go home as soon as they got back here.”

  He nodded, and Frank understood that there was no more to say, and, thanking the officer, turned and walked off home. The fisherman met him on the way.

  “You keep up your heart, Mr. Frank. Me and some of the others have been having a talk with the coast-guards, and they will be all right. Of course, there is not one of them that does not know Mr. Julian, so they won’t say more than they can help against him; and every one of them is glad to hear that he gave it to that Faulkner hot. He ain’t no more a favourite with them than he is with other people, and it was not by their own will that they ran in and pulled your brother off him. If they hadn’t, he would not have been sitting on the bench today, nor for many a week, I reckon; for he would have been pretty badly burned if he had fallen across that fire. So you may be sure that they will make it easy for Mr. Julian, and I expect you will have him back home this evening. They would never have took him at all if they had known who he was; but, of course, being dark, and he in his fishing togs, they did not see it was him.”

  Frank returned home in much better spirits than he had left. His aunt was standing at the window, and hurried to the door to let him in.

  “Well, Frank, have you got him out? I hoped you would have brought him home with you.”

  “There was no chance of that, Aunt. Of course, when anyone is taken and locked up, he cannot be discharged until the case has been gone into. But I have seen Mr. Moorsby, the coast-guard officer on shore, and Captain Downes, and they both say that the case will not be pressed against him, and that, as he was not taking any part in the affair, and merely looking on, they don’t think anything will be done to him. The coast-guardsmen who will have to give evidence all know him, and will not say anything against him if they can help it. So I should not be at all surprised, Aunt, if we have him back here this afternoon.”

  “Oh, I do wish,” Mrs. Troutbeck said tearfully, “that it could have been managed so that he would not have been obliged to be placed in the dock with smugglers and all sorts of people.”

  “It would, no doubt, have been better if it could have been avoided, Aunt, but there is no helping it; and if he is discharged it won’t go for much against him—certainly not here, where nobody regards smuggling as a crime.”

  At half-past one Frank went down to the court-house. It was already crowded, but Captain Downes, who came up at the same moment, took him in, and obtained a place for him at the solicitors’ table. The seizure had created quite a sensation in Weymouth, not only because two or three Weymouth men were among the prisoners, but because, owing to the fight that had taken place, the matter was very much more serious than a mere capture of contraband goods. There was a general buzz of conversation until three magistrates came in and took their places, and there was a little murmur of satisfaction as Colonel Chambers, the chairman, took his seat; for, had he not been present, Mr. Faulkner, who was next in seniority, would have taken the chair. A minute later, twelve prisoners were brought in. Five Frenchmen and two Englishmen were a portion of the crew of the smuggler; two were farmers’ men, the drivers of the carts; one was a local fisherman; the eleventh was one of the party that had gone from Weymouth; Julian Wyatt made up the number.

  Two or three of the party had their heads bandaged up; one had his arm in a sling; several others had marks of hard knocks, and Julian a pair of black eyes. When the little murmur that followed the entry of the prisoners had subsided, and the crier had called out “Silence in court,” the inquiry began.

  Mr. Moorsby was the first witness. He deposed that having received information that a landing of contraband goods was likely to take place, he, accompanied by Mr. Faulkner, who represented the civil authorities, went to the spot. They perceived that a landing of goods was taking place; but, as it had been arranged that his party should not show themselves until the revenue cutter came up and seized the lugger, they remained in hiding until they heard from a man placed down by the shore that the cutter was coming in. Then they rushed out and seized the parties engaged in the proceedings. Some of them resisted violently, and a serious fray took place. Three of his men were wounded with pistol shots, one of them very seriously. One of the smugglers had been killed, and three were so seriously injured that they could not at present be placed in the dock.

  “Are any of the prisoners represented in court?” the chairman asked.

  A solicitor sitting next to Frank rose. “I represent Mr. Julian Wyatt,” he said. Frank looked up at him in surprise. The idea of obtaining legal assistance for Julian had not occurred to him, and he wondered how his brother had been able to communicate with a solicitor. “I would suggest, your honour,” the latter went on, “that the evidence should be taken separately in the different charges, as there is a considerable difference in the position of prisoners.”

  Another solicitor rose. “I appear for John Turnbull and William Sims,” he said, “and I would support the appeal of Mr. Probert. My clients, who are farming men, took no part whatever in the fray, which is the serious portion of the affair. While I am ready to admit that they were engaged in the illegal operation of aiding in the landing of contraband goods, I shall be able to prove that
they are innocent of the more serious charge of resisting by force their capture by the revenue officers, and with using deadly weapons against the representatives of the law, and that their case stands in an altogether different category to that of the main body of the prisoners.”

  “You do not intend, I hope,” Mr. Faulkner said, “to express a wish that we should have what would practically be twelve investigations instead of one, or that the witnesses should all be obliged to go that number of times into the box.”

  “By no means, your honour; I am only intimating my intention of cross-examining each witness as to the share my clients took in the affair, and pointing out beforehand that their case stands on an entirely different footing to that of the men who took part in the more serious charge of resisting the officers.”

  One after another of the coast-guard men gave their evidence, each identifying one or more of the prisoners in whose capture they had taken a personal part. None of the first five had anything to say regarding Julian. Then James Wingfield entered the box. After stating that he was the coxswain of the Weymouth coast-guard boat he proceeded:

  “When Mr. Moorsby gave the order I ran forward. I saw a biggish man standing with his hands in the pockets of his pea-jacket. He seemed to be looking on, and was not at work; but, thinking that he might be a leader, me and Harry Wilkens ran at him and seized him. It was not until afterwards we knew that he was Mr. Julian Wyatt. After we had caught him I handed him over to Wilkens, and that is all I know about him.”

  He then proceeded to testify against several of the other prisoners in whose capture he had taken part. When he had finished his evidence, Julian’s solicitor rose.

  “You say that the prisoner you first took, Mr. Wyatt, was taking no active part in the affair?”