Below me and to my left, I saw with a jolt of shock that the landers were now sitting huddled into a group. Crouched down, surrounding them, muskets trained, was a ring of three dragoons. Another soldier was waiting in the long grasses, his muskets trained on the beach. Where had they lain hidden?
Instantly, I dropped down into the grass myself, hoping none of them had noticed that I’d spotted them. This had been an ambush. We had a traitor among us. There was no other possible way that the soldiers could have known so precisely when and where the run would be.
Cautiously I raised my eyes to look once more. None of the soldiers were looking in my direction. I breathed a sigh of relief, but it was short-lived. I realized none of the landers could now signal the ship. I turned and looked out to sea. She was close now. I could see every sail, every mast, and I could even make out tiny figures moving about on the decks in the dusk.
My friends were sailing straight into a deadly trap. And there was no sign of it from out in the bay. There was no one but me to warn them, but what could I do? My cloak was useless now that it was dark. I had no lantern.
I pressed my face into the damp, cold ground, panic gripping me. Then I gave myself a shake. I couldn’t give in, I had to do something. Think! I told myself furiously. What would Will do?
In a moment, I’d grasped my basket and was fumbling in it. At the bottom was the tinderbox that Ann had given me. Now I knew what that ‘need’ might be. I had a vivid memory of the gorse bushes that had been fired the night I’d been taken aboard The Invisible. A warning, bright enough to be seen from sea.
Abandoning my basket, I ran for the cliffs, clutching the tinderbox to me. I threw myself up the steep path, racing frantically upwards, leaping from rock to rock, to get the best possible footing on the steep slope. I had to get to the top before anyone saw me. Darkness was falling fast now, so I could hope no one would spot me, or think anything of it if they did. My breathing was coming in desperate gasps before I was halfway to the top of the cliff.
I paused and risked a glance behind me. No one was following. But out to sea, The Invisible had lowered her boats and was loading kegs and men into them. I had to warn them away before they reached the beach.
I turned and began to run upwards once more. By the time I reached the top, I was gasping raggedly and the sweat was pouring off me. Where was some suitable gorse? I needed a bush that grew right on the cliff edge and would be clearly visible from the ship.
I almost stumbled into a sharp bush in the dark. I dropped to my knees beside it, ignoring the prickles that stabbed into my knees and scraped my hands. With desperate, clumsy fingers, I fumbled with the tinderbox trying to get it to work. The first spark fell upon my cloak and almost set it alight. Beating it out with my hands, I tried again.
The first boat had left the ship now and was heading in towards the beach, loaded with incriminating evidence. Anyone caught with kegs of French cognac could be thrown into gaol. Worst of all, they might fight to defend themselves and lives could be lost.
Several more sparks flew, but failed to light the bush. At last, one landed on a branch and glowed. I bent over it, cursing the painful scratches I was getting, and blew softly on it. It glowed brighter and then caught in a tiny flame. The flame grew. It spread along the branch and began to crackle.
I’d done it. But was I in time?
I backed away and looked out to sea. The first boat was halfway to the beach. The second had left the ship. On the dark beach, I could see no movement at all; no sign that an untold number of men lay concealed in the shingle.
I looked anxiously back at the gorse. The fire was taking far too long to catch. I clenched my hands in an agony of fear and frustration. There was nothing more I could do now. It was out of my hands.
As I waited in painful uncertainty, a gust of wind blew in from the sea. It fanned the flames on the gorse bush. The fire leapt and engulfed the whole bush in a moment. It burned like a bright beacon, almost blinding me. I could see nothing but yellows and oranges dancing before my eyes wherever I looked.
I half-laughed, half-wept with relief. I had succeeded. Though I could see nothing, I was certain I had warned the crew away from that dangerous beach.
Moving cautiously away from the fire, staying away from where I thought the cliff edge might be, I stared out into the darkness, waiting for my eyes to adjust. Behind me the blaze faded to a glow. When I could see again, both boats were heading back out to The Invisible. On board the ship, men were in the rigging, raising the sails, making ready to flee.
But I was left behind. My heart lurched with the realization. I’d been so busy warning them, I’d forgotten about myself. There was no way I could have got to the ship. I’d done what I could. I stood and watched them leave, feeling bereft.
The sound of heavy footsteps and loud breathing approaching reminded me I mustn’t be caught here. I fled away along the cliff path, away from the soldiers, and didn’t stop running until I was lost in the darkness.
It took a long time to reach Ann’s cottage. I stumbled and fell more than once and became hopelessly lost. When I finally got there, the windows were dark and Ann already abed. I knocked softly and when she didn’t hear me, I crept around the back. I climbed the low wall behind the cottage and let myself in through the back door that was never fastened.
I was just pouring myself a cup of water, when I heard soft steps behind me and the dim light of a shaded candle came into view. ‘Who’s there?’ demanded Ann’s voice sounding frightened.
‘It’s me, Isabelle,’ I said. ‘Don’t be afraid!’
‘Isabelle!’ exclaimed Ann. ‘What went wrong?’
‘They took the landers!’ I said, my voice catching. ‘There were soldiers hidden on the beach. And I’d signalled the all clear, so the crew from The Invisible were very nearly caught too!’ And then because I’d been through so much excitement and fear, I burst into tears.
Ann put her arms around me and held me tight. ‘Dear Lord! But they didn’t catch them?’ she asked urgently, giving me a little shake. ‘Tell me they’re safe!’
‘They’re s … safe,’ I sobbed. ‘I … I fired a gorse bush with the tinder … tinderbox you gave me. They got away … just!’
Ann let go of me with a sigh of relief and patted my shoulder. ‘I think a small beer is called for. You can tell me all about it,’ she said. ‘Then we need to get word out to help the landers as was taken.’
CHAPTER TWENTY
As she poured the beer for breakfast two days later, Ann told me that a messenger had called in the night.
‘You’re to be at Lulworth Cove tonight at eleven of the clock,’ she told me. ‘It’s a long trek from here, a fair step beyond Kimmeridge, but they’ve fixed you a ride in a carrier’s cart as far as Tyneham where you’ll be met.’
‘They’re attempting to land the cargo again?’ I asked. I’d been thinking of them constantly, hovering in the channel with their dangerous cargo, evading the Navy and Revenue ships that patrolled it. It hadn’t been considered safe to follow our original back-up plans. Yet again, someone had appeared to have inside information about the run.
‘Yes, but they won’t risk the cloak signal again so soon in case anyone spotted you last time. You never know. A customs man as can dig his men into the beach might have the brains to work out you were signalling. The landers will use a spout lantern tonight.’
I nodded as I sipped my beer and buttered some bread. ‘I bet it was that Oswald fellow. He seemed sly enough for anything. What about the men that were caught?’ I asked. ‘Any news of them?’
‘They’ve all been released without charge,’ Ann told me.
‘Really?’ I must have looked astonished, because she laughed.
‘Without the cargo, there was nothing to charge them with. There’s no law against being on the beach at night. There are laws about signalling ships, but they were all under guard when the bush was fired. The excise men have to pay prosecution expenses themselves, so the
y never prosecute unless there’s clear proof.’
‘Are you saying that I rescued all those men too? As well as everyone on The Invisible?’ I could feel myself swelling with pride.
‘You did.’ Ann began to pack me some food for my journey and wrap it in a clean cloth. I nibbled a piece of bread and grew thoughtful.
‘Ann,’ I asked, in what I hoped was a casual tone, ‘how close is Lulworth to Newlands?’
‘Newlands Manor?’ she asked curiously. ‘No more than a step. It’s above Durdle and that’s the next bay along. Why?’
‘Oh. No reason,’ I said, unwilling to explain why I didn’t want to go back to that place. ‘Do you think it would be better if I went dressed as a lad today? It’s a long way for a girl to go alone, isn’t it?’
Ann shook her head, looking mystified. ‘Well, I suppose so,’ she said. ‘It’s as you like. But pack the gown in case you should need to be a girl again.’
Changed into breeches, my hair concealed in a cap, I bid her farewell once more and climbed into the cart. The carrier was ferrying a load of furniture for someone who was moving house. I sat on the seat at the front of the cart with him as he drove the horses.
The driver was a taciturn man, so I watched the countryside go by and examined the other travellers we passed on the road. Mainly though, I thought ahead to tonight. I hoped there would be no danger like last time and that I would reach the ship safely. I told myself I longed to see everyone again, but it was Will’s face that rose most often in my mind.
When the creaking, lumbering cart rolled into the village of Tyneham, the light was beginning to fail. A yokel was sitting idly on a low wall, chewing a straw and watching us approach. He was dressed in a grubby smock with a straw hat pulled low over his eyes, so I barely glanced at him. But when he stood up and addressed us, I realized with a shock of pleasure that it was Will himself. He winked at me as the cart pulled up beside him with a ‘Whoa!’ from the driver.
I jumped down from the seat and Will passed a few coins to the carrier. I thanked him, he touched his cap to me and proceeded on his way. Will and I looked at each other, and I felt shy all of a sudden. ‘Come on,’ Will said. ‘There’s a fair way to walk yet, but then a good supper ordered at the inn at West Lulworth when we get there.’
I followed him gladly; happy to be striding at his side once more. ‘I understand we owe you thanks,’ said Will once we were clear of the village. ‘You spotted the soldiers and fired the gorse bush. That was quick thinking.’
It felt strange to be praised by Will instead of criticized. ‘I should have checked the beach earlier though,’ I added honestly. ‘I had such a feeling there was something odd down there. If I hadn’t given the signal in the first place, it wouldn’t have been such a close-run thing.’
Will shook his head. ‘You have to admire the riding officer,’ he said. ‘If it hadn’t been for your sharp eyes, he’d have got the lot of us and earned himself a fine reward from His Majesty’s Treasury. We are so unlucky. Most places along the coast have little or no credible watch. The officers are lazy, infirm or open to bribes. The contraband is run openly in broad daylight. But we get the one officer who can add two and two together and get four and has the dedication to lay an ambush.’
‘I can’t imagine how cold and uncomfortable it must have been to lie so still all those hours,’ I agreed. ‘I’ve thought about it often the last few days. Those men could have taken severe chills.’
‘Indeed.’ Will laughed. ‘We’ve heard Oswald is laid up with a bad cold in his head. And the soldiers have all left the area again after such a failure. So we intend to strike while the iron is hot and run the goods in tonight.’
The new moon was high in the night sky by the time Will and I met the landers on the hill behind Lulworth Cove. Knowing Lieutenant Oswald was laid up, they all seemed quite unconcerned about the brightness of the night, and took no trouble to conceal themselves. One man held a lantern which he was lighting ready to signal the ship out to sea.
‘Is she in range?’ asked Will.
‘Aye, that she is,’ he replied. ‘We spied her before dark, but have been biding till the time was right.’
‘Have you checked the beach?’ I asked, mindful of the last near-disastrous run.
‘We’ve checked it,’ confirmed another man.
The signal was sent and returned. We could make out The Invisible setting her sails and heading in towards us, though she was soon hidden by the cliffs.
We all made off down to the cove in a long train, the men leading the pack ponies along the sloping track that led down towards the sea. I walked at Will’s side, amazed at the relaxed, buoyant mood among the men. It was almost as though we were heading for a party, not a secret and illegal venture.
As we emerged from the track into the cove, I caught my breath. I’d sailed a considerable stretch of this coast now, and seen many remarkable bays and beaches. But Lulworth was splendid.
Almost a perfect horseshoe, it curved before us; only a narrow exit to the sea visible straight ahead. We were surrounded by looming white cliffs, glowing in the pale moonlight, cut off completely from the countryside on the one side and almost as completely from the sea. There was an eerie stillness down in the cove, broken only by the crunching of men’s and ponies’ feet on the shingle. As we all settled to wait, the stillness was complete. The waves were tiny and lapped softly on the fringe of the beach. An owl hooted somewhere inland, its mournful cry drifting to us in the dark, still air.
A tall, dark shape loomed at the entrance to the bay. I caught my breath as The Invisible glided silently into the cove, the moonlight shining on her sails. Her grace and beauty were undeniable. She looked like a living creature; a swan perhaps. Hearing my intake of breath, Will looked down and smiled. ‘Glad to see her?’ he asked.
‘You can’t imagine how glad,’ I replied softly. I felt almost tearful at the sight of the ship. Will took my hand and pressed it in the darkness. I felt the heat rise in my cheeks and was glad of the darkness that hid it. I hadn’t spoken to Will as I’d promised myself I would and felt a stab of guilt at the thought. But he’d been so friendly and relaxed this evening, I’d not wanted to spoil the short time we’d had together.
The Invisible sailed close to the beach, and the boats had already brought us our first load of kegs when there was the sound of hooves behind us.
‘Hi!’ called an outraged voice. ‘You can’t land that here!’
My heart jumped into my mouth. We all spun round, some men paused in the very act of unloading contraband, to stare into the moonlit darkness at the back of the beach. I couldn’t believe it: after barely escaping last time, we were all to be caught anyway. ‘Damn,’ I heard Will mutter beside me.
Two junior riding officers rode towards us, their horses foundering in the shingle. My heart was hammering, but the men around me seemed unperturbed. Seeing only two of them approaching, knowing that Lieutenant Oswald was ill and the soldiers gone, they went back to work, splashing through the shallows, carrying the heavy kegs.
‘I said halt!’ cried the junior officer angrily. ‘I can’t allow smuggling here!’
There was laughter at this. ‘You going to stop us?’ demanded the man who’d lit the lantern.
‘Yes, I am,’ he replied bravely, riding his horse right up to us, and trying to get between the men and the boats. ‘Stop! Stop now, I say! This is an illegal trade!’
His companion, an older man, hung back, looking nervous.
‘Give up, do,’ said the lander. ‘You’ve got no one to back you up. You can’t stop us tonight. And we don’t want to hurt you.’
‘I’m an officer of His Majesty King George and his representative in this place!’ cried the officer, barging a man who was trying to carry a keg past him. The man stumbled and fell into the sea, dropping the keg. This angered the landers, setting off a low growl. As one, they abandoned their work to haul the officer down off his horse.
‘Don’t interfere with us an
d we won’t interfere with you!’ the men told him.
‘I won’t stand by and watch!’ he cried.
It was a foolish argument. He should have backed off when his initial warning was ignored. These were rough men with hungry families to feed at home. They weren’t going to obey him. Instead of fearing for the smugglers’ safety, I began to feel concern for the customs men.
The second officer backed off, clearly thinking about fleeing, only to be stopped by other men who had spread out and surrounded him. ‘You wouldn’t run off and leave your friend all alone, would you?’ they asked him. He kicked out at them as they closed in on him, but he too was pulled from his frightened horse, and none too gently at that.
I sought out Will in the dim light. ‘They won’t hurt them, will they?’ I asked him anxiously.
‘They might, but they know not to go too far,’ Will said. I wasn’t comforted.
The two men were dragged back out of the cove, and up the road they had ridden down. All around me the men that were left carried on with the job of unloading the kegs from the ship. There were several crates of fine wine too, that were loaded into a small cart that had been brought down the slipway to the edge of the beach. I sat on the shingle, feeling sick at the thought of what might be happening to the two officers who had only been performing their duty.
I didn’t have long to wait to see what was in store for them. There were shouts from the top of the low cliff to the right, and two dark shapes descended over the edge. It wasn’t easy to see in this light what was happening, but after a few moments I made out the two officers, tightly bound, hanging from their ankles from the cliff top.
My heart almost stopped at the sight. ‘Oh no,’ I breathed. But everyone else was amused; there was laughter around me. The officers hung there, watching the last of the kegs being unloaded and tied to the pack horses. When everything was ashore and ready to go, there was a discussion about what to do with them.
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