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Full text of ' Mm*i UNIVERSITY OF FLORIDA LIBRARIES. 11 ':■ x TALES OF OUR COAST Tales of Our Coast By S. CROCKETT HAROLD FREDERIC GILBERT PARKER W. CLARK RUSSELL SIR ARTHUR THOMAS QUILLER-COUCH (Q, pseud.) With Twelve Illustrations by Frank Brangwyn f BOOKS FOR LIBRARIES PRESS FREEPORT, NEW YORK Short Story Index Reprint Series I First Published 1896 Reprinted 1970 STANDARD BOOK NUMBER: 8369-3470-9 LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOG CARD NUMBER: 70-116966 PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA -J CONTENTS The Smugglers of the Clone 'There is Sorrow on the Sea The Path of Murtogh... The Roll-Call of the Reef. 'That there Mason'....

Page 13 8l 133 179. ILLUSTRATIONS Page 'YOU AND I USED TO WATCH THE TlDE come swilling in ' Frontispiece Black Taggart was in with his Lugger. 17 'I laid a Pistol to his Ear' 31 ' My Heart keeps warm in thinkin' of you. 43 1 you drove him from the boat ' 69 Saw his Head spiked over South Gate. 83 'My Father cut him free from his Drum'.. 149 The Trumpeter sounded the 'Revelly'. 165 •I killed a Man' 169 •Old Jim Mason's the worst-tempered Man on the Coast ' 183 'What's taken yer Heye?'

187 'You killee him!' Roars one 199 THE SMUGGLERS OF THE CLONE BY S. CROCKETT THE SMUGGLERS OF THE CLONE.

' Rise, Robin, rise! The partans are on the sands! ' The crying at our little window raised me out of a sound sleep, for I had been out seeing the Myreside lasses late the night before, and was far from being wake-rife at two by the clock on a February morning.

It was the first time the summons had come to me, for I was then but young. Hitherto it was my brother John who had answered the raising word of the free-traders spoken at the window. But now John had a farm-steading of his own, thanks to Sir William Maxwell and to my father's siller that had paid for the stock.

So with all speed I did my clothes upon me, with much eagerness and a beating i3 TALES OF OUR COAST heart, — as who would not, when, for the first time, he has the privilege of man? As I went out to the barn I could hear my mother (with whom I was ever a fa- vourite) praying for me. 1 Save the laddie — save the laddie! ' she said over and over. And I think my father prayed too; but, as I went, he also cried to me counsels. 1 Be sure you keep up the grappling chains — dinna let them clatter till ye hae the stuff weel up the hill. The Lord keep ye!

Be a guid lad an' ride honestly. Gin ye see Sir William, keep your head doon, an' gae by withoot lookin'.

He 's a magistrate, ye ken. But he '11 no' see you, gin ye dinna see him. Leave twa ankers a-piece o' brandy an' rum at our ain dyke back.

An' abune a', the Lord be wi' ye, an' bring ye safe back to your sorrowing parents! ' So, with pride, I did the harness graith upon the sonsy back of Brown Bess, — the pad before where I was to sit, — the lingtow 14 THE SMUGGLERS OF THE CLONE and the hooked chains behind. I had a cutlass, a jockteleg (or smuggler's sheaf- knife), and a pair of brass-mounted pistols ready swung in my leathern belt. Faith, but I wish Bell of the Mains could have seen me then, ready to ride forth with the light- horsemen. She would never scorn me more for a lingle-backed callant, I 'se warrant.

1 Haste ye, Robin! Heard ye no' that the partans are on the sands? ' It was Geordie of the Clone who cried to me. He meant the free-traders from the Isle, rolling the barrels ashore. 4 1 am e'en as ready as ye are yoursel'! ' I gave him answer, for I was not going to let him boast himself prideful all, because he had ridden out with them once or twice before.

Besides, his horse and accoutrement were not one half so good as mine. For my father was an honest and well-considered man, and in good standing with the laird and the minister, so that he could afford to do things handsomely. 15 TALES OF OUR COAST We made haste to ride along the heuchs, which are very high, steep, and rocky at this part of the coast. And at every loaning-end we heard the clinking of the smugglers chains, and I thought the sound a livening and a merry one.

' A fair guid-e'en and a full tide, young Airyolan! ' cried one to me as we came by Killantrae. And I own the name was sweet to my ears. For it was the custom to call men by the names of their farms, and Airyolan was my father's name by rights. But mine for that night, because in my hands was the honour of the house. Ere we got down to the Clone we could hear, all about in the darkness, athwart and athwart, the clattering of chains, the stir of many horses, and the voices of men.

Black Taggart was in with his lugger, the ' Sea Pyet,' and such a cargo as the Clone men had never run, — so ran the talk on every side. There was not a sleeping 16 Black Taggart was in with Jus lugger. THE SMUGGLERS OF THE CLONE wife nor yet a man left indoors in all the parish of Mochrum, except only the laird and the minister. By the time that we got down by the shore, there was quite a company of the Men of the Fells, as the shore men called us, — all dour, swack, determined fellows.

1 Here come the hill nowt!' Said one of the village men, as he caught sight of us. I knew him for a limber-tongued, ill-livered loon from the Port, so I delivered him a blow fair and solid between the eyes, and he dropped without a gurgle. This was to learn him how to speak to innocent harmless strangers. Then there was a turmoil indeed to speak about, for all the men of the laigh shore crowded round us, and knives were drawn.

But I cried, 4 Corwald, Mochrum, Chipper- more, here to me! ' And all the stout lads came about me. Nevertheless, it looked black for a mo- ment, as the shore men waved their torches 19 TALES OF OUR COAST in our faces, and yelled fiercely at us to put us down by fear. Then a tall young man on a horse rode straight at the crowd which had gathered about the loon I had felled.

He had a mask over his face which sometimes slipped awry. But, in spite of the disguise, he seemed perfectly well known to all there. 1 What have we here? ' he asked, in a voice of questioning that had also the power of command in it.

' 'T is these Men of the Fells that have stricken down Jock Webster of the Port, Maister William! ' said one of the crowd. Then I knew the laird's son, and did my duty to him, telling him of my provocation, and how I had only given the rascal strength of arm. ' And right well you did,' said Maister William, ' for these dogs would swatter in the good brandy, but never help to carry it to the caves, nor bring the well-graithed horses to the shore-side!

Carry the loon 20 THE SMUGGLERS OF THE CLONE away, and stap him into a heather hole till he come to.' So that was all the comfort they got for their tale-telling. ' And you, young Airyolan,' said Maister William, 'that are so ready with your strength of arm, — there is even a job that you may do. Muckle Jock, the Preventive man, rides to-night from Isle of Whithorn, where he has been warning the revenue cutter.

Do you meet him and keep him from doing himself an injury.' 1 And where shall I meet him, Maister William? ' I asked of the young laird. 4 Oh, somewhere on the heuch-taps,' said he, carelessly; ' and see, swing these on your horse and leave them at Myrtoun on the by-going.' He called a man with a torch, who came and stood over me, while I laid on Brown Bess a pair of small casks of some fine liqueur, of which more than ordinary care was to be taken, and also a 21 TALES OF OUR COAST few packages of soft goods, silks and laces as I deemed.

1 Take these to the Loch Yett, and ca' Sandy Fergus to stow them for ye. Syne do your work with the Exciseman as he comes hame. Gar him bide where he is till the sun be at its highest to-morrow. And a double share o' the plunder shall be lyin' in the hole at a back of the dyke at Airyolan when ye ride hame the morn at e'en.'

So I bade him a good-night, and rode my ways over the fields, and across many burns to Myrtoun. As I went I looked back, and there, below me, was a strange sight, — all the little harbour of the Clone lighted up, a hurrying of men down to the shore, the flickering of torches, and the lappering of the sea making a stir of gallant life that set the blood leaping along the veins.

It was, indeed, I thought, worth while living to be a free-trader. Far out, I could see the dark spars of the lugger ' Sea Pyet,' and hear the 22 THE SMUGGLERS OF THE CLONE casks and ankers dumping into the boats alongside. Then I began to bethink me that I had a more desperate ploy than any of them that were down there, for they were many, and I was but one. Moreover, easily, as young Master William might say, * Meet Muckle Jock, and keep him till the morn at noon!

' the matter was not so easy as supping one's porridge. Now, I had never seen the Exciseman, but my brother had played at the cudgels with Jock before this. So I knew more of him than to suppose that he would bide for the bidding of one man when in the way of his duty.

But when the young laird went away he slipped me a small, heavy packet. ' Half for you and half for the gauger, gin he hears reason,' he said. By the weight and the jingle I judged it to be yellow Geordies, the best thing that the wee, wee German lairdie ever sent to Tory 23 TALES OF OUR COAST Mochrum. And not too plenty there, either! Though since the Clone folk did so well with the clean-run smuggling from the blessed Isle of Man, it is true that there are more of the Geordies than there used to be.

So I rode round by the back of the White Loch, for Sir William had a habit of daun- ering, over by the Airlour and Barsalloch, and in my present ride I had no desire to meet with him. Yet, as fate would have it, I was not to win clear that night. I had not ridden more than half-way round the loch when Brown Bess went floundering into a moss-hole, which are indeed more plenty than paved roads in that quarter. And what with the weight of the pack, and her struggling, we threatened to go down altogether. When I thought of what my father would say, if I went home with my finger in my mouth, and neither Brown Bess nor yet a penny's-worth to be the value of her, I was fairly a-sweat with fear. I cried aloud for help, for there were 24 THE SMUGGLERS OF THE CLONE cot-houses near.

And, as I had hoped, in a little a man came out of the shadows of the willow bushes. 4 What want ye, yochel?' Said he, in a mightily lofty tone. ' I '11 'yochel' ye, gin I had time. Pu' on that rope,' I said, for my spirit was disturbed by the accident.

Also, as I have said, I took ill-talk from no man. So, with a little laugh, the man laid hold of the rope, and pulled his best, while I took off what of the packages I could reach, ever keeping my own feet moving, to clear the sticky glaur of the bog-hole from them. 1 Tak' that hook out, and ease doon the cask, man! ' I cried to him, for I was in desperation; ' I '11 gie ye a heartsome gill, even though the stuff be Sir William's!

' And the man laughed again, being, as I judged, well enough pleased. For all that service yet was I not pleased to be called 'yochel.' But, in the meantime, I saw not how, at the moment, I could begin to cuff 2 5 TALES OF OUR COAST and clout one that was helping my horse and stuff out of a bog-hole. Yet I resolved somehow to be even with him, for, though a peaceable man, I never could abide the calling of ill names.

' Whither gang ye? 1 To the Muckle Hoose o' Myrtoun,' said I, ' and gang you wi' me, my man; and gie me a hand doon wi' the stuff, for I hae nae stomach for mair warsling in bog-holes. And wha kens but that auld thrawn Turk, Sir William, may happen on us? ' ' Ken ye Sir William Maxwell? ' said the man. 1 Na,' said I. * I never so muckle as set e'en on the auld wretch.

But I had sax hard days' wark cutting doon bushes, and makin' a road for his daftlike carriage wi' wheels, for him to ride in to Mochrum Kirk ' ' Saw ye him never there? ' said the man, as I strapped the packages on again. 1 Na/ said I, ' my faither is a Cameronian, and gangs to nae Kirk hereaboots.' 26 THE SMUGGLERS OF THE CLONE * He has gi'en his son a bonny upbringing, then! ' quoth the man.

Now this made me mainly angry, for I cannot bide that folk should meddle with my folk. Though as far as I am concerned myself I am a peaceable man.

1 Hear ye,' said I, ' I ken na wha ye are that speers so mony questions. Ye may be the de'il himseP, or ye may be the enemy o' Mochrum, the blackavised Commodore frae Glasserton.

But, I can warrant ye that ye '11 no mell and claw unyeuked with Robin o' Airyolan. Hear ye that, my man, and keep a civil tongue within your ill-lookin' cheek, gin ye want to gang hame in the morning wi' an uncracked croun! ' The man said no more, and by his gait I judged him to be some serving man. For, as far as the light served me, he was not so well put on as myself. Yet there was a kind of neatness about the creature that showed him to be no outdoor man either. 27 TALES OF OUR COAST However, he accompanied me willingly enough till we came to the Muckle House of Myrtoun. For I think that he was feared of his head at my words.

And indeed it would not have taken the kittling of a flea to have garred me draw a staff over his crown. For there is nothing that angers a Galloway man more than an ignorant, upset- ting town's body, putting in his gab when he desires to live peaceable. So, when we came to the back entrance, I said to him: ' Hear ye to this. Ye are to make no noise, my mannie, but gie me a lift doon wi' thae barrels cannily. For that dour old tod, the laird, is to ken naething aboot this. Only Miss Peggy and Maister William, they ken.

'Deed, it was young William himsel' that sent me on this errand.' So with that the mannie gave a kind of laugh, and helped me down with the ankers far better than I could have expected. We rolled them into a shed at the back of the 28 THE SMUGGLERS OF THE CLONE stables, and covered them up snug with some straw and some old heather thatching.

1 Ay, my lad/ says I to him, ' for a' your douce speech and fair words I can see that ye hae been at this job afore! ' 'Well, it is true,' he said, 'that I hae rolled a barrel or two in my time.'

Then, in the waft of an eye I knew who he was. I set him 'down for Muckle Jock, the Excise officer, that had never gone to the Glasserton at all, but had been lurking there in the moss, waiting to deceive honest men. I knew that I needed to be wary with him, for he was, as I had heard, a sturdy carl, and had won the last throw at the Stoneykirk wrestling. But all the men of the Fellside have an excellent opinion of themselves, and I thought I was good for any man of the size of this one. So said I to *him: ' Noo, chiel, ye ken we are no' juist carryin' barrels o' spring water at this time o' nicht to pleasure King George.

Hearken ye: we are in danger of 29 TALES OF OUR COAST being laid by the heels in the jail of Wigton gin the black lawyer corbies get us. Noo, there's a Preventive man that is crawling and spying ower by on the heights o' Physgill. Ye maun e'en come wi' me an' help to keep him oot o' hairm's way. For it wad not be for his guid that he should gang doon to the port this nicht!'

The man that I took to be the gauger hummed and hawed a while, till I had enough of his talk and unstable ways. ' No back-and-forrit ways wi' Robin,' said I. 4 Will ye come and help to catch the King's officer, or will ye not?'

' No' a foot will I go,' says he. ' I have been a King's officer, myself!

' Whereupon I laid a pistol to his ear, for I was in some heat. 1 Gin you war King Geordie himsel', aye, or Cumberland either, ye shall come wi' me and help to catch the gauger,' said I. For I bethought me that it would be a bonny ploy, and one long to be talked about 30 / laid a pistol to his THE SMUGGLERS OF THE CLONE in these parts, thus to lay by the heels the Exciseman and make him tramp to Glasserton to kidnap himself. The man with the bandy legs was taking a while to consider, so I said to him: ' She is a guid pistol and new primed! ' 1 I '11 come wi' ye! So I set him first on the road, and left my horse in the stables of Myrtoun.

It was the gloam of the morning when we got to the,, turn of the path by which, if he were to come at all, the new gauger would ride from Glasserton. As if we had set a tryst, there he was coming over the heathery braes at a brisk trot. So I covered him with my pistol, and took his horse by the reins, think- ing no more of the other man I had taken for the gauger before. ' Dismount, my lad,' I said. * Ye dinna ken me, but I ken you. Come here, my brisk landlouper, and help to haud him!

' I saw the stranger who had come with me sneaking off, but with my other pistol I 33 TALES OF OUR COAST brought him to a stand. So together we got the gauger into a little thicket or planting. And here, willing or unwilling, we kept him all day, till we were sure that the stuff would all be run, and the long trains of honest smugglers on good horses far on their way to the towns of the north.

Then very conscientiously I counted out the half of the tale of golden guineas Master William had given me, and put them into the pocket of the gauger's coat. * Gin ye are a good, still-tongued kind of cattle, there is more of that kind of yellow oats where these came from/ said I. * But lie ye here snug as a paitrick for an hour yet by the clock, lest even yet ye should come to harm! ' So there we left him, not very sorely angered, for all he had posed as so efficient and zealous a King's officer. ' Now,' said I to the man that had helped me, ' I promised ye half o' Maister William's guineas, that he bade me keep, for 34 THE SMUGGLERS OF THE CLONE I allow that it micht hae been a different job but for your help. And here they are. Ye shall never say that Robin of Airyolan roguit ony man, — even a feckless toon's birkie wi' bandy legs!

' The man laughed and took the siller, saying, ' Thank'ee! ' with an arrogant air as if he handled bags of them every day. But, nevertheless, he took them, and I parted from him, wishing him well, which was more than he did to me. But I know how to use civility upon occasion. When I reached home I told my father, and described the man I had met. But he could make no guess at him. Nor had I any myself till the next rent day, when my father, having a lame leg where the colt had kicked him, sent me down to pay the owing.

The factor I knew well, but I had my money in hand and little I cared for him. But what was my astonishment to find, sitting at the table with him, the very same man who had helped me to lay the Exciseman by the 35 TALES OF OUR COAST heels. But now, I thought, there was a strangely different air about him. And what astonished me more, it was this man, and not the factor, who spoke first to me. Aye, young Robin of Airyolan, and are you here? Ye are a chiel with birr and smeddum! There are the bones of a man in ye!

Hae ye settled with the gauger for shackling him by the hill of Physgill? ' Now, as I have said, I thole snash from no man, and I gave him the word back sharply. * Hae ye settled wi' him yoursel', sir? For it was you that tied the tow rope! ' My adversary laughed, and looked not at all ill-pleased. He pointed to the five gold Georges on the tables.

' Hark ye, Robin of Airyolan, these are the five guineas ye gied to me like an honest man. I '11 forgie ye for layin' the pistol to my lug, for after all ye are some credit to the land 36 THE SMUGGLERS OF THE CLONE that fed ye. Gin ye promise to wed a decent lass, I '11 e'en gie ye a farm o' your ain.

And as sure as my name is Sir William Maxwell, ye shall sit your lifetime rent free, for the de'il's errand that ye took me on the nicht of the brandy-running at the Clone.' I could have sunken through the floor when I heard that it was Sir William himself, — whom, because he had so recently returned from foreign parts after a sojourn of many years, I had never before seen. Then both the factor and the laird laughed heartily at my discomfiture.

1 Ken ye o' ony lass that wad tak' up wi' ye, Robin? ' said Sir William. ' Half a dozen o' them, my lord,' said I. 4 Lassies are neither ill to seek nor hard to find when Robin of Airyolan gangs a- coortin'! ' 4 Losh preserve us! ' cried the laird, slap- ping his thigh, ' but I mysel' never sallied forth to woo a lass so blithely confident!'

I said nothing, but dusted my knee- 37 TALES OF OUR COAST breeks. For the laird was no very good- looking man, being grey as a badger. 1 An' mind ye maun see to it that the bairns are a' loons, and as staunch and stark as yoursel'! ' said the factor. ' A man can but do his best,' answered I, very modestly as I thought. For I never can tell why it is that the folk will always say that I have a good opinion of myself.

But neither, on the other hand, can I tell why I should not. 38 THERE IS SORROW ON THE SEA BY GILBERT PARKER 'THERE IS SORROW ON THE SEA* York Factory, Hudson's Bay. Iyd September, 1747. My Dear Cousin Fanny, — It was a year last April Fool's Day, I left you on the sands there at Mablethorpe, no more than a stone's throw from the Book-in-Hand, swearing that you should never see or hear from me again. You remember how we saw the coastguards flash their lights here and there, as they searched the sands for me? How one came bundling down the bank, calling, 'Who goes there?' And when I said, ' A friend,' he stumbled, and his light fell to the sands and went out, and in the darkness you and I stole away: you to your home, with a whispering, ' God-bless- 41 TALES OF OUR COAST you, Cousin Dick,' over your shoulder, and I with a bit of a laugh that, maybe, cut you to the heart, and that split in a sob in my own throat, — though you did n't hear that 'T was a bad night's work that.

Cousin Fanny, and maybe I wish it undone; and maybe I don't; but a devil gets into the heart of a man when he has to fly from the lass he loved, while the friends of his youth go hunting him with muskets, and he has to steal out of the back-door of his own country and shelter himself, like a cold sparrow, up in the eaves of the world. Ay, lass, that 's how I left the fens of Lincolnshire a year last April Fool's Day. There was n't a dyke from Lincoln town to Mablethorpe that I had n't crossed with a running jump; and there was n't a break in the shore, or a sink-hole in the sand, or a clump of rushes, or a samphire bed, from Skegness to Theddlethorpe, that I did n't know like every line of your face. And when I was a slip of a lad — ay, and later, too, 42 My heart keeps warm in thinkirt of you.

He will grant you ten years' indulgence, — or it may be twenty! 1 Ask him,' broke in Murtogh, sitting up with a brightened face, his hand outstretched to secure silence for the thought that stirred within him, — * ask if the Holy Father would be granting just the one spiritual favour I would beg. Will this gentleman bind the King of Spain to that? ' 4 And may *I wholly trust,' she asked the Spaniard, with half-closed eyes, through which shone the invitation of her mood, 1 may I trust in your knightly proffer of help? Do not answer till I have finished. You are 117 TALES OF OUR COAST the first who has come to me — here in this awful dungeon — and I have opened my heart to you as perhaps I should not. But you have the blood of youth in your veins, like me; you are gallant and of high lineage; you are from the land where chivalry is the law of gentle life, — is it true that you will be my champion?

' The Spaniard rose with solemn dignity, though his great eyes flashed devouringly upon her, and his breast heaved under its cuirass. He half lifted his sword from the sheath, and kissed the cross of its hilt ' Oh, my beloved, I swear! ' he said, in sombre earnestness. She translated the action and utterance to Murtogh. C Whatever of a spiritual nature you would crave of his Holiness he would grant? * But it would be a cruel time of waiting, to send all the long way to Rome and back,' he objected, 'and this matter lies like lead upon my soul.'

118 THE PATH OF MURTOGH She looked up into the Spaniard's eyes, and let her own lashes tremble, and fed the ravening conflagration of his gaze with a little sigh. ' It would be very sweet to believe/ she murmured, 'too sweet for sense, I fear me. Nay, Don Tello, I need not such a world of persuasion — only — only — lift your right hand, with thumb and two fingers out, and swear again. And say, 11 Bera, I swear! ' ' ' It is your name?

' he asked, and as she closed her eyes in assent, and slowly opened them to behold his oath, he lifted the fingers and waved them toward her, and passionately whispered, ' Bera, queen of my Heaven, star of my soul, I swear! ' 1 That is the sign of the Pope himself 1 she explained, with indifference, to Murtogh. ' Whatever wish you offered up you have it already granted. It is Don Tello who bears the holy authority from the Pope' The lord of Dunlogher hurled himself to his feet with a boisterous energy before H9 TALES OF OUR COAST which the lady, wondering, drew herself away.

He stretched his bared arms towards her, then flung them upward as in invocation to the skies. The beatitude of some vast triumph illumined his glance. 'Oh, then, indeed, I am Murty Mordha!' * It is I who am prouder than all the Kings on earth!

It is I who have won my love! Oh, glory to the Heavens that send me this joy! Glory and the praise of the saints! The rhapsody was without meaning to the Spaniard. He stared in astonishment at the big chieftain with the shining countenance who shouted with such vehemence up at the oaken roof.

Turning a glance of inquiry at the lady, he saw that she had grown white- faced, and was cowering backward in her chair. 1 Our Lady save us! ' she gasped at him in Spanish. * He has asked the Pope to absolve me from my vow.' Don Tello, no wiser, put his hand to his 120 THE PATH OF MURTOGH sword. ' Tell me quickly, what it is?

What am I to do? ' he demanded of her. Murtogh, with a smile from the heart moistening his eyes and transfiguring all his face, strode to the Spaniard, and grasped his reluctant hand between his own broad palms, and gripped it with the fervour of a giant. 1 I would have you tell him/ he called out to the Lady Bera.

* Tell him that he has no other friend in any land who will do for him what Murty Mordha will be doing. I will ride with him into the battle, and take all his blows on my own back. I will call him my son and my brother.

Whatever he will wish, I will give it to him. And all his enemies I will slay and put down for him to walk upon. Oh, Bera, the jewel restored to me, the beautiful gem I saved from the waters, tell him these things for me! Why will your lips be so silent? Would they be waiting for my kisses to waken them?

And Donogh, son of mine, come hither and take my other son's hand. I will hear you swear 121 TALES OF OUR COAST to keep my loyalty to him the same as myself. And, Owny Hea, — hither, man! You can- not see my benefactor, the man I will be giving my life for, but you have heard his voice. You will not forget it.'

The absence of all other sound of a sudden caught Murtogh's ear, and checked his flow of joyous words. He looked with bewilder- ment at the figure of his wife in the chair, motionless with clenched hands on her knees, and eyes fixed in a dazed stare upon vacancy, He turned again, and noted that Owny Hea had come up to the Spaniard, and was stand- ing before him so close that their faces were near touching. The old blind man had the smile of an infant on his withered face. He lifted his left hand to the Spaniard's breast and passed it curiously over the corselet and its throat- plate and arm-holes, muttering in Irish to himself, ' I will not forget. I will not at all forget.'

A zigzag flash of light darted briefly some- 122 THE PATH OF MURTOGH where across Murtogh's vision. Looking with more intentness he saw that both the blind man's hands were at the arm-pit of the Spaniard, and pulled upon something not visible. Don Tello's big eyes seemed bursting from their black-fringed sockets. His face was distorted, and he curled the fingers of his hand like stiffened talons, and clawed once into the air with them.

Then Owny Hea pushed him, and he pitched sprawling against Murtogh's legs, and rolled inert to the floor. His hot blood washed over Murtogh's sandalled feet. A woman's shriek of horror burst into the air, and the hounds moaned and glided forward. Murtogh did not know why he stood so still. He could not rightly think upon what was happening, or put his mind to it. The bones in his arms were chilled, and would not move for him. He gazed with round eyes at Owny, and at the red dripping knife which the bard stretched out to him.

He felt the rough tongue of a dog 123 TALES OF OUR COAST on his ankle. The dark corners of the chamber seemed to be moving from him a long distance away. There was a spell upon him, and he could not tremble.

The voice of Owny Hea came to him, and though it was soundless, like the speech of Dreamland, he heard all its words; * Mur- togh son of Teige, I have slain your guest for the reason that I have the Spanish, and I knew the meaning of his words to this woman, and he could not live any longer. The liathan priest, when he would be going, told this stranger that she you called your wife was your enemy, and made a mockery of you, and would give ear gladly to any means of dishonouring you. And the lia- than priest spoke truly. While the woman repeated lies to you of the King of Spain and the Pope, she whispered foul scandal of you, and wicked love-words to that dog's- meat at your feet.

It is I, Owen son of Aodh, who tell you these things. And now you know what you have to do! * 124 THE PATH OF MURTOGH Murtogh turned slowly to the lady. She lay, without motion, in her chair, her head limp upon her shoulder, and the whiteness of sea foam on her cheek, Thoughts came again into his brain. 4 1 have the wisest mind of all in my family,' he said; ' I know what it is I will be doing.' He drew the short sword from his girdle, and put his nail along its edge.

1 Donogh baoth', he said to his son, l go below and seek out Conogher tuathal and Shane buidhe, and bid them seize the liathan priest between them, and bring him to me here where I am. And you will take some sleep for yourself then, for it is a late hour.' The lad looked at the pale lady with the closed eyes, and at the sword in his father's hand. He set his teeth together, and lifted his head. 4 1 am of years enough to see it all,' he said. * I have no sleep on my eyes.' Murtogh bent over the corpse at his feet, 125 TALES OF OUR COAST and caressed the boy's head with his hand.

1 1 will not call you baoth (simple) any more,' he said, fondly. ' You are mv true son, and here is my ring for your finger, and you may return with them when they fetch me my liathan cousin.'

IV Next morning young Donogh gave his word to the men of Dunlogher, and they obeyed him, for in the one night he had thrown aside his sluggish boyhood, and they saw his father's ring on his finger, and heard a good authority in his voice. They came out from the Western gate at his command, three-score and more, and stood from the brink of the cliff inward, with their weapons in their hands, and made a path between them. But the women and children Donogh bade remain within the bawn, and he shut the inner gate upon them. Vdo Cdr 2005 Keygen Crack. It was as if the smell of blood came to them there, for the old women put up a lamentation of death, 126 THE PATH OF MURTOGH and the others cried aloud, till the noise spread to the men on the cliff.

These looked one to another and held their silence. They did not clash their spears together when, after a long waiting, Murtogh came from the gate,.and walked toward them. A fine rain was in the air, and the skies and sea were grey, and the troubled man would have no spirit for such greeting. He bore upon his broad back a great shapeless bundle thrice his own bulk. The weight of it bent his body, and swayed his footsteps as he came. The cover of it was of skins of wild beasts, sewn rudely with thongs, and through the gaps in this cover some of the men saw stained foreign cloths and the plume of a hat, and some a shoe with a priest's buckle, and some the marble hand of a fair woman.

But no word was spoken, and Murtogh, coming to the edge, heaved his huge shoulders upward, and the bundle leaped out of sight. 127 TALES OF OUR COAST Then Murtogh turned and looked all his fighting-men in their faces, and smiled in gentleness upon them, and they saw that in that same night, while the 'little people* had changed Donogh into a man, they had made Murtogh a child again. 4 She came up from the water,' he said to them, in a voice no man knew. ' It was I who brought her out of the water, and fought for her with the demons under the rocks, and beat all of them off. But one of them I did not make the sign of the Cross before, and that one is the King of Spain; and so he has wrought me this mischief, and made all my labour as nothing; and she is in the water again, and I must be going to fetch her out rightly this time.'

Murtogh sprang like a deer into the air, with a mighty bound which bore him far over the edge of the cliff. Some there were, in the throng that sprang forward, agile enough to be looking down the abyss before his descent was finished. These, to their 128 THE PATH OF MURTOGH amazement, beheld a miracle. For the great fall did not kill Murtogh Mordha, but the waters boiled and rose to meet him, and held him up on their tossing currents as he swam forward, and marked with a pallid breadth of foam his path out to sea, farther and farther out, till the mists hid him from human view. The wailing song of Owny Hea rose through the wet air above the keening of the women in the bawn. But louder still was the voice of the lad who wore his father's ring, and drew now from beneath his mantle his father's sword.

' I am Donogh son of Murtogh Mordha!' He shouted, ' and I am Lord in Dunlogher, and when I am of my full strength I will kill the King of Spain, and give his castles and all his lands and herds and women to you for your own!' The three towers of Dunlogher are broken, and the witch has fled from its grey lake, 9 129 TALES OF OUR COAST and no man knows where the bones of its forgotten sept are buried. But the evil currents will never tire of writhing, and the shadows which are no shadows are for- ever changing, in the Path of Murty the Proud.

130 THE ROLL-CALL OF THE REEF I I BY I I • SIR ARTHUR THOMAS QUILLER-COUCH (Q, pseud.) 1 J m i >THE ROLL-CALL OF THE REEF. Graphic Whizard Model K2 Manual Free Download Programs on this page. I ' Yes, sir,' said my host the quarryman, reaching down the relics from their hook in the wall over the chimney-piece; 'they've hung here all my time, and most of my father's. The women won't touch 'em; they 're afraid of the story.

So here they'll dangle, and gather dust and smoke, till another tenant comes and tosses 'em out o' doors for rubbish. 'tis coarse weather.' He went to the door, opened it, and stood studying the gale that beat upon his cottage- front, straight from the Manacle Reef. The } rain drove past him into the kitchen, aslant like threads of gold silk in the shine of the wreck-wood fire. Meanwhile, by the same firelight, I examined the relics on my knee.

133 >TALES OF OUR COAST The metal of each was tarnished out ot knowledge. But the trumpet was evidently an old cavalry trumpet, and the threads of its parti-coloured sling, though frayed and dusty, still hung together. Around the side- drum, beneath its cracked brown varnish, I could hardly trace a royal coat-of-arms and a legend running — Per Mare Per Terram — the motto of the Marines. Its parchment, though coloured and scented with wood- smoke, was limp and mildewed; and I began 'to tighten up the straps — under which the drumsticks had been loosely thrust — with the idle purpose of trying if some music might be got out of the old drum yet. But as I turned it on my knee, I found the drum attached to the trumpet-siing by a curious barrel-shaped padlock, and paused to examine this. The body of the lock was composed of half-a-dozen brass rings, set accurately edge to edge; and, rubbing the brass with my thumb, I saw that each of the six had a series of letters engraved around it. 134 ROLL-CALL OF THE REEF I knew the trick of it, I thought.

Here was one of those word padlocks, once so common; only to be opened by getting the rings to spell a certain word, which the dealer confides to you. My host shut and barred the door, and came back to the hearth. 1 'T was just such a wind — east by south — that brought in what you 've got between your hands. Back in the year 'nine, it was; my father has told me the tale a score o' times.

You 're twisting round the rings, I see. But you '11 never guess the word. Parson Kendall, he made the word, and locked down a couple o' ghosts in their graves with it; and when his time came, he went to his own grave and took the word with him.'

4 Whose ghosts, Matthew? ' 'You want the story, I see, sir. My father could tell it better than I can. He was a young man in the year 'nine, un- married at the time, and living in this very 135 TALES OF OUR COAST cottage, just as I be. That 's how he came to get mixed up with the tale.' He took a chair, lit a short pipe, and went on, with his eyes fixed on the dancing violet flames: — 1 Yes, he *d ha* been about thirty years old in January, of the year 'nine.

The storm got up in the night o' the twenty-first o' that month. My father was dressed and out, long before daylight; he never was one to 'bide in bed, let be that the gale by this time was pretty near lifting the thatch over his head.

Besides which, he'd fenced a small 'taty- patch that winter, down by Lowland Point, and he wanted to see if it stood the night's work. He took the path across Gunner's Meadow — where they buried most of the bodies afterwards. The wind was right in his teeth at the time, and once on the way (he 's told me this often) a great strip of ore- weed came flying through the darkness and fetched him a slap on the cheek like a cold hand. But he made shift pretty well 136 ROLL-CALL OF THE REEF till he got to Lowland, and then had to drop upon hands and knees and crawl, digging his fingers every now and then into the shingle to hold on, for he declared to me that the stones, some of them as big as a man s head, kept rolling and driving past till it seemed the whole foreshore was moving westward under him. The fence was gone, of course; not a stick left to show where it stood; so that, when first he came to the place, he thought he must have missed his bearings. My father, sir, was a very religious man; and if he reckoned the end of the world was at hand — there in the great wind and night, among the moving stones — you may believe he was certain of it when he heard a gun fired, and, with the same, saw a flame shoot up out of the darkness to windward, making a sudden fierce light in all the place about.

All he could find to think or say was, ' The Second Coming — The Second Coming! The Bride- groom cometh, and the wicked He will toss like a ball into, a large country! ' and being 137 TALES OF OUR COAST already upon his knees, he just bowed his head and 'bided, saying this over and over. ' But by 'm-by, between two squalls, he made bold to lift his head and look, and then by the light — a bluish colour 't was — he saw all the coast clear away to Manacle Point, and off the Manacles, in the thick of the weather, a sloop-of-war with top-gallants housed driving stern foremost towards the reef. It was she, of course, that was burning the flare.

My father could see the white streak and the ports of her quite plain as she rose to it, a little outside the breakers, and he guessed easy enough that her captain had just managed to wear ship, and was trying to force her nose to the sea with the help of her small bower anchor and the scrap or two of canvas that had n't yet been blown out of her. But while he looked, she fell off, giving her broadside to it foot by foot, and drifting back on the breakers around Cam du and the Varses. The rocks lie so thick thereabouts, that 't was a toss up which she struck first; 138 ROLL-CALL OF THE- REEF at any rate, my father could n't tell at the time, for just then the flare died down and went out.

4 Well, sir, he turned then in the dark and started back for Coverack to cry the dismal tidings — though well knowing ship and crew to be past any hope; and as he turned, the wind lifted him and tossed him forward 'like a ball,' as he 'd been saying, and homeward along the foreshore. As you know, 't is ugly work, even by daylight, picking your way among the stones there, and my father was prettily knocked about at first in the dark. But by this 'twas nearer seven than six o'clock, and the day spreading.

By the time he reached North Corner, a man could see to read print; hows'ever, he looked neither out to sea nor towards Coverack, but headed straight for the first cottage — the same that stands above North Corner to-day. A man named Billy Ede lived there then, and when my father burst into the kitchen bawling, ' Wreck! ' he saw Billy 139 TALES OF OUR COAST Ede's wife, Ann, standing there in her clogs, with a shawl thrown over her head, and her clothes wringing wet.

'Save the chap' says Billy Ede's wife, Ann. ' What d' 'ee mean by crying stale fish h. At that rate? * 1 ' But *t is a wreck, I tell ee. I 've a-zeed 'n! ' « ' Why, so 't is,' says she, ' and I Ve a-zeed'n, too; and so has everyone with an eye in his head.' 1 And with that she pointed straight over my fathers shoulder, and he turned; and there, close under Dolor Point, at the end of Coverack town, he saw another wreck washing, and the point black with people like emmets, running to and fro in the morn- ing light.

While he stood staring at her, he heard a trumpet sounded on board, the notes coming in little jerks, like a bird rising against the wind; but faintly, of course, because of the distance and the gale blowing — though this had dropped a little. 140 ROLL-CALL OF THE REEF * ' She 's a transport,' said Billy Ede's wife, Ann, ' and full of horse soldiers, fine long men. When she struck they must ha pitched the hosses over first to lighten the ship, for a score of dead hosses had washed in afore I left, half-an-hour back. An' three or four soldiers, too — fine long corpses in white breeches and jackets of blue and gold. I held the lantern to one.

Such a straight young man.' 4 My father asked her about the trumpet- ing. 1 ' That 's the queerest bit of all. She was burnin' a light when me an' my man joined the crowd down there. All her masts had gone; whether they were carried away, or were cut away to ease her, I don't rightly know. Anyway, there she lay 'pon the rocks with her decks bare. Her keelson was broke under her and her bottom sagged and stove, and she had just settled down like a sitting hen — just the leastest list to starboard; but a man could stand there easy.

They had 141 TALES OF OUR COAST rigged up ropes across her, from bulwark to bulwark, an' beside these the men were mus- tered, holding on like grim death whenever the sea made a clean breach over them, an' standing up like heroes as soon as it passed. The captain an 1 the officers were clinging to the rail of the quarter-deck, all in their golden uniforms, waiting for the end as if 't was King George they expected. There was no way to help, for she lay right beyond cast of line, though our folk tried it fifty times. And beside them clung a trumpeter, a whacking big man, an' between the heavy seas he would lift his trumpet with one hand, and blow a call; and every time he blew, the men gave a cheer. There (she says) — hark 'ee now — there he goes agen! But you won't hear no cheering any more, for few are left to cheer, and their voices weak.

Bitter cold the wind is, and I reckon it numbs their grip o' the ropes; for they were dropping off fast with every sea when my man sent me home to get his breakfast. Another wreck, 142 ROLL-CALL OF THE REEF you say? Well, there's no hope for the tender dears, if 't is the Manacles. You 'd better run down and help yonder; though 't is little help any man can give. Not one came in alive while I was there. The tide 's flowing, an' she won't hold together another hour, they say.'

1 Well, sure enough, the end was coming fast when my father got down to the point. Six men had been cast up alive, or just breathing — a seaman and five troopers. The seaman was the only one that had breath to speak; and while they were carrying him into the town, the word went round that the ship's name was the Despatch, transport, homeward bound from Corunna, with a de- tachment of the 7th Hussars, that had been fighting out there with Sir John Moore. The seas had rolled her further over by this time, and given her decks a pretty sharp slope; but a dozen men still held on, seven by the ropes near the ship's waist, a couple near the break of the poop, and three on the 143 TALES OF OUR COAST quarter-deck. Of these three my father made out one to be the skipper; close by him clung an officer in full regimentals — his name, they heard after, was Captain Duncan- field; and last came the tall trumpeter; and if you '11 believe me, the fellow was making shift there, at the very last, to blow ' God save the King.' What 's more, he got to ' Send us victorious,' before an extra big sea came bursting across and washed them off the deck — every man but one of the pair beneath the poop — and he dropped his hold before the next wave; being stunned, I reckon. The others went out of sight at once; but the trumpeter — being, as I said, a powerful man as well as a tough swimmer — rose like a duck, rode out a couple of breakers, and came in on the crest of the third.

The folks looked to see him broke like an egg at their very feet; but when the smother cleared, there he was, lying face downward on a ledge below them; and one of the men that hap- pened to have a rope round him — I forget 144 ROLL-CALL OF THE REEF the fellows name, if I ever heard it — jumped down and grabbed him by the ankle as he began to slip back. Before the next big sea, the pair were hauled high enough to be out of harm, and another heave brought them up to grass.

Quick work, but master trumpeter was n't quite dead; nothing worse than a cracked head and three staved ribs. In twenty minutes or so they had him in bed, with the doctor to tend him.

* Now was the time — nothing being left alive upon the transport — for my father to tell of the sloop he 'd seen driving upon the Mana- cles. And when he got a hearing, though the most were set upon salvage, and believed a wreck in the hand, so to say, to be worth half-a-dozen they could n't see, a good few volunteered to start off with him and have a look. They crossed Lowland Point; no ship to be seen on the Manacles, nor any- where upon the sea. One or two was for calling my father a liar. ' Wait till we come io ' I4S TALES OF OUR COAST to Dean Point,' said he.

Sure enough on the far side of Dean Point they found the sloop's mainmast washing about with half-a- dozen men lashed to it, men in red jackets, every mother's son drowned and staring; and a little further on, just under the Dean, three or four bodies cast up on the shore, one of them a small drummer-boy, side-drum and all; and, near by, part of a ships gig, with H. Primrose cut on the stern- board. From this point on, the shore was littered thick with wreckage and dead bodies, — the most of them Marines in uniform; and in Godrevy Cove, in particular, a heap of furniture from the captains cabin, and amongst it a water-tight box, not much damaged, and full of papers, by which, when it came to be examined, next day, the wreck was easily made out to be the Primrose, of eighteen guns, outward bound from Ports- mouth, with a fleet of transports for the Spanish War, thirty sail, I Ve heard, but I Ve never heard what became of them. Being 146 ROLL-CALL OF THE REEF handled by merchant skippers, no doubt they rode out the gale, and reached the Tagus safe and sound.

Not but what the Captain of the Primrose (Mein was his name) did quite right to try and club-haul his vessel when he found himself under the land; only he never ought to have got there, if he took proper soundings. But it 's easy talking.

1 The Primrose, sir, was a handsome vessel — for her size, one of the handsomest in the King's service — and newly fitted out at Plymouth Dock. So the boys had brave pickings from her in the way of brass-work, ship's instruments, and the like, let alone some barrels of stores not much spoiled. They loaded themselves with as much as they could carry, and started for home, meaning to make a second journey before the preventive men got wind of their doings, and came to spoil the fun. But as my father was passing back under the Dean, he happened to take a look over his shoulder at the bodies there. Says he, and 147 TALES OF OUR COAST dropped his gear, ' I do believe there 's a leg moving!' And running fore, he stooped over the small drummer-boy that I told you about.

The poor little chap was lying there, with his face a mass of bruises, and his eyes closed — but he had shifted one leg an inch or two, and was still breathing. So my father pulled out a knife, and cut him free from his drum — that was lashed on to him with a double turn of Manilla rope — and took him up and carried him along here, to this very room that we 're sitting in. He lost a good deal by this; for when he went back to fetch the bundle he'd dropped, the preventive men had got hold of it, and were thick as thieves along the foreshore; so that 't was only by paying one or two to look the other way that he picked up anything worth carry- ing off — which you '11 allow to be hard, see- ing that he was the first man to give news of the wreck. * Well, the inquiry was held, of course, and my father gave evidence, and for the rest 148 it '!■] m 'THAT THERE MASON' I was in Ramsgate, in the pier-yard, and noticed the figure of a boatman leaning against the wall of a building used by the Trinity people.

I stepped close, and looked at him. He was a little man, curved; his hands were buried to the knuckles' end in his breeches pockets; he wore a yellow sou'wester, and under it was a sour, sneering, wicked face. His eyes were damp and sunk, and seemed to discharge a thin liquor like pale ale, and he would not pull out his hands to wipe them. 1 What 's your name?

He looked at me slowly, beginning at my waistcoat, and answered: 4 What 's that got to do with you? ' 1 Do you want a job? ' 179 TALES OF OUR COAST * What sorter job?

' he replied, continuing to lean against the wall, without any motion of his body, merely looking at me. 4 The job of answering a civil question with a civil answer/ said I. He turned his head, and gazed at the sea without replying. 4 What 's that obelisk? His head came back to its bearings, and he answered: ' What s what?

' 'That thing in granite, yonder; that tall stone spike. What is it?* * Can yer read? ' 4 Better than you, I expect,' I answered. 4 Then why don't you go and find out for yourself?

' said he, uttering a small, hideous laugh. 1 1 rather fancy,' said I, 4 that that spike was erected to commemorate the landing of George IV.

He was kind enough to con- descend to land at Ramsgate. Was n't that good of him, Tommy? Blown here, maybe, vomiting, to the pier-head, and rejoicing, 180 'THAT THERE MASON' under his waistcoats, to get ashore anywhere and anyhow. And the snobs of Ramsgate go to the expense of erecting that unwhole- some and shocking memorial of so abject a trifle as the landing of a fat immoral man at this port on his way to London. Why don't you, and the like of you, level it, — knock the blamed thing into blocks of stone, and build a house with them for a good man to live in?' His eyes had come to the surface; they were running harder than ever.

He was in a rage. 4 Look here/ said he; * I don't know who y' are, but don't yer like that there pillar?'

4 No,' I answered. 4 Then why don't yer go home? There 's nothen' to keep yer 'ere, I 'ope?

Plenty of trains to all parts, and I '11 carry yer bag for nothen', allowin' you've got one, only for the satisfaction of seein' the last of yer.' 181 TALES OF OUR COAST I told him I would remember that, and, bursting into uncontrollable laughter at his peculiarly ugly, wicked face, I walked off, scarce knowing but that I should feel the blow of ' 'arf a brick ' in the back of my head as I went. I met a boatman with whom I had gone fishing on some occasions.

* Thomas/ said I, pointing to the leaning figure, 'who is that queer little chap? 1 1 Jimmie Mason/ replied Thomas, with a half-glance at the wall-scab, then turning his back upon it. * Has he ever been hung?' * Don't think he could have been quite old enough for it/ he replied, turning again to look at the little man. ' They cut a man down from the gibbet on the sand hills yonder/ said he, pointing in the direction of Deal, ' when my father was a boy, and he used to say that, when the man got sprung, he 'd relate, in beautiful language, how he felt when he was turned off.' 182 Ola Jim Mason's the worst-tempered man on the coast.

'THAT THERE MASON' * A dose of turning-off would do that gent in the sou'wester a great deal of good,' said I. ' He 's a sort of man, you know, to murder you when you 're out fishing with him. He 's a sort of man to stab you in the back with a great clasp knife, and drag your body into the empty house, which never lets ever after.* 1 Old Jim Mason s just the worst-tempered man on the coast. His heart was turned black by a disappointment,' said Thomas.

' Why, not exactly love,' he replied; ' it was more in the hovelling line.' 1 Is it a good yarn? ' If so, I '11 stand two drinks; a pint for you and a half- pint for me.'

1 It might be worth recording,' said Thomas, taking the time occupied by the harbour clock in striking twelve to reflect. ' Anyways, pint or no pint, here it is,' and, folding his arms, this intelligent 'longshore- man ' started thus: — 185 TALES OF OUR COAST ' Some years ago, a gemman and a lady went out for a sail, and, as is not always customary in these 'ere parts, — though we Ve got some thick heads among us, I can tell you, — they were capsized. The gemman was drowned, the lady and the boatman saved, and the boat was picked up and towed in, — there she lies, ' The 'Arbour Bud.' 4 The widder, as was natural, was in dreadful grief; and, in a day or two, police bills was pasted about the walls, offering a reward of 50/. To any one who should recover the body.

That there Mason, as you see a-leaning agin that house, was just the party for a job of this sort He called 'em soft jobs. He was one of them men as would walk about the rocks and sands arter a breeze of wind, hunting for whatever he might find, — be it a corpse that had come ashore to keep him in good spirits, or the 'arf of a shoe. Him and Sam Bowler was a-huntin* arter jewellery down among the rocks one day, and that there Mason picked up a gold ring. 186 1 What's taken yer heye? ' 'THAT THERE MASON' He offered it to Bowler, who gave him five shullens for it, and that night, at the sign of the ' Welcome 'Arp,' that there Mason swallowed some of his front teeth, and got both eyes plugged, for Bowler, who weighs fourteen stun, had discovered that the ring was brass. ' Well, that there Mason takes it into his head to go for a walk one day arter the bills about the body had been pasted on the walls.

Walked in the direction of Broadstairs, and, comin' to the coastguard station, he falls in with one of the men, a sort of relation of his. They got yarning.

The coastguard had a big telescope under his arm. That there Mason asked leave to have a look, and he levels the glass and begins to work about with it. The line of the Good'in Sands was as plain as the nose on his face. It was low water, the whole stretch of the shoal was visible, and it was a clear bright afternoon. 4 ' What 's taken yer heye? ' says the coastguard presently. 189 TALES OF OUR COAST i ' Nothen, oh, nothen,' answered that there Mason.

' Sands show oncommon plain to-day.' - He handed back the glass to the coast- guard, and then, instead of continuing his walk, he returned to this here yard, and got into his boat and pulled away out of the harbour.

1 Now what do yer think he had seen in that telescope? A dead man stranded on the Good'in Sands. There could be no mistake. That there Mason belonged to the cocksure lot; he never made a blunder in all his life.

It mightn't be the body as was advertised for, but, if it was, 't was a fifty-pound job; and that there Mason, without a word, pulled out o' 'arbour feelin', I daresay, as if he 'd got the gold in his pocket, and the heavens was beginnin' to smile upon him. 1 T is a long pull to the Good'ins, tide or no tide. None took any notice of his goin' out.

There was some boats a-fishin/ in 190 •THAT THERE MASON' Pegwell Bay, and if any man looked at that there Mason a-rowing out to sea, he 'd expect to see him bring up and drop a line over the side. He rowed and rowed. The body lay upon the edge of the Sand, a long distance away from the Gull lightship. He rowed and rowed. By-and-bye, standin' up, he pulls out a bit of a pocket glass, and then discovers that what he 'd taken to be a man's dead body was nothen but a small balk of timber, black with black seaweed, stretched out on either side, so that at a distance it looked exactly like a corpse on its back with its arms out. ' That there Mason might ha' burst him- self with passion if he had n't been too dead beat with rowing.

Even in them times he was n't no chicken. Well, thinks he to himself, since I 've had all this here labour merely to view a balk of timber, I may as well step ashore for a spell of rest, and take a short cruise round, for who knows what I might find? So what does the joker do but 191 TALES OF OUR COAST head his boat right in for the sand, and then he jumps ashore. He made his boat fast to the balk of timber.

It was arter five, and the sun westerin' fast. He drives his 'ands deep into his pockets, and slowly meanders, always a-looking. What was there to find? He couldn't tell. There was expectation, yer see, and that was a sort of joy to the eart of that there Mason. Y'u *d hardly think it of a boatman, but it's true: whilst that bally idiot was a-wandering about them sands searching for whatever there might be, his boat, giving a tug at her painter, frees the rope and drifts away on the tide, with that there man as you are now a-looking at walking about the sands, his 'ands buried deep and his eyes fixed, dreaming of light- ing upon a sovereign or a gold chain, — you can never tell what passes in such an *ead.

By'm-bye he turns to look for his boat, and lo and be'old she's gone. There she was half a mile off, quietly floating away to the norr'ard. The sun was beginning to sink 192 'THAT THERE MASON' low; the night was coming along. The people aboard the Gull lightship did n't see him or take any notice; what was that there Mason going to do? There was no wreck to shelter him. It might be that at Rams- gate they'd see a lonely man a-walking about, and send a boat; but, as I Ve said, dusk was at 'and, and he knew bloomin' well that if they did n't see him soon they 'd never see him again. 4 He 'd taken notice afore the darkness had drawn down of a cutter bearing about northeast.

He watched her now whilst it was light, for it looked to him as if she was making a straight course for the sands. It was plain she was n't under no government. The wind blew her along, and at eight o'clock that evening, when the moon was rising and the tide making fast all about the sands, I'm blest if that cutter didn't come quietly ashore, and lie as sweetly still as if she was a young woman wore out with walkin'.

'3 193 TALES OF OUR COAST 1 1 allow that it did n't take that there Mason a lifetime to scramble aboard of her. She was a fine boat, 'bout sixteen or eigh- teen ton, newly sheathed, and her sails shone white and new in the moon. When he got aboard he sung out, ' Anybody here?

' and he received no reply. There was a bit of a forehatch; he put his 'ead into it and sung out, and several times he sung out, and got no answer; he then walked aft. I must tell you, it was a very quiet night, with a light breeze and plenty of stars, and a growing moon. He looks through the bit of a sky- light, and sees nothen; puts his head in the companion-way and sings out as afore.

An abandoned wessel, he thinks to himself, and his 'eart, you may be sure, turns to and rejoices. 4 What should he do? Try to kedge her off himself? That was beyond him. Send up a rocket, if he should find such a thing in the vessel?

S'elp me, he was that greedy he could n't make up his mind to ask for 'elp. 194 'THAT THERE MASON >He took a look round the sea and considered. There was some big lump of shadow out behind the sands, — she looked like a French smack; his boat was out of sight in the dark, but the cutter, he noticed, carried a little jolly boat, amidships, right fair in the wake of the gangway, easy to be launched, smack fashion, so that there Mason felt his life was saved. 1 He carried some lucifers in his pocket for lighting his pipe; he stepped into the cabin, and struck a light. A lamp was hung up close against his 'and; it was ready trimmed, and he set the wick afire, and looked round.

What did he see? As beau- tiful a little cabin as the hinvention of man could figure. The sides of the wessel had been picked out by artists, and that there Mason swears no man ever saw finer pictures in his life, — ladies a-bathin', gentlemen chasm' with hounds, a steamer going along; both sides had been picked out into pictures, and that there Mason looked around him 195 ^a TALES OF OUR COAST with his mouth opening and opening.

There was likewise lookin' glasses; a thick carpet; the lamps seemed to be made of silver, and there was such a twinkling of silver all about, what with the 'andles of doors and a lot of forks and spoons on the table, that Mason's eyes began to dance in his evil old nut, and he reckoned himself a made man for life. Look at him as he leans there. * But what else did he see? The door of a cabin right aft stood open, and half-way in and half-way out lay the body of a man; his throat was most horribly cut; not by 's own 'and. No man could nearly cut his own 'ead half off as that chap's was. He 'd been mur- dered, and there was no man in that beauti- ful little cutter saving that bleedin' corpse. It was a sight to have thickened the wind-pipe of most men, and set them a-breathin' hard and tight; but he saw nothing but a man with his throat cut.

He took a look at him, and reckoned him to be a furriner, as, indeed, the whole little ship seemed. It was a very 196 'THAT THERE MASON' quiet night, and he stood looking at the dead body considering what he should do. If he brought assistance from the shore, and the cutter was towed into port, his share of the salvage money, — for the rewards are small in jobs of this sort when the weather is fine and there is no risk of life, — his share, I says, of the money would be scarcely worth talking about.

Same time, if he left the cutter to lie, and it came on to blow, she 'd go to pieces afore the morning. That was n't his consarn, he thought; he had come to the Good'ins on the look-out for a job, and had got one, and he made up his mind to make the most of his chances. 1 So the first thing that there Mason did was to stoop down and plunder the body. Plenty was on it. I can see in fancy the looks of his face as he 'elped himself; he found a beautiful gold watch and chain, a diamond ring, and another ring, a lot of gold coins in French money in one pocket, and French money in silver coin in another. He 197 TALES OF OUR COAST found a silver toothpick, an eye-glass, and I can't tell you what besides. He was in high feather, a very 'appy man; he fills his pockets with the forks and spoons, supposing them silver, tho' they wasn't.

He looked into the cabin where the dead body lay, but found nothen but bed-clothes and male wearin' apparel hangin' to the bulkhead. There was a chest of drawers full of good linen shirts and vests and the like of that. But that there Mason thought of Cocky Hon- our, the Customs man, and abandoned the idea of makin' up them shirts into a parcel. ' It was his notion to get away in the cutter's jolly boat or dinghey, and he stood looking about him to see if there was any- thing else he could put in his pockets. All at once he heard a noise of men's voices alongside, and, immediately arter, the 'eavy tread of fishermen's boots over'ead.

Afore he could get on deck, a big chap, with a red night-cap on, came down the little companion- ladder, and instantly roars out something in 198 * You killee him!' 'THAT THERE MASON' French.

Down comes others, — three or four. 'T was a minute or two afore they took notice of the dead body, all along of starin' round 'em, and at that there Mason, who stared back. They then set up a howl, and fell a-brandish- ing their arms, as if they were gone stark mad. * ' You killee him! * ' No, no,' sings out Mason, ' me no killee, me find him killee. ' ' ' You killee him,' roars the great man with the cap, lookin' most ferocious, for that here Mason says his face was nearly all hair, besides that he squinted most damnably, beggin' of your pardon. And then he began to shout to the others, who shouted back at him, all talkin' at the top of their voices, as is the custom in France when excited, and all lookin' at that there Mason.

' Suddenly they all rushed at him, knocked him down, overhauled his pockets, and brought out the spoons and forks and the dead gent's gold watch and chain, and the rest of the plunder. 201 TALES OF OUR COAST 'You killed' roared the big man in the cap, and layin' hold of him, they ran him into the cabin where the corpse was, and locked him up with the body, and presently that there Mason, who was next door to ravin' mad, felt that they was warping the cutter off, — that, in short, she was off, and, by the noise of passin' waters, either sailing or in tow.

' And now to end this, sir, what do you think happened to that there Mason? She was a French smack that had sighted and boarded the cutter; that was a Frenchman likewise, and they towed her straight to Boulogne, at which place they arrived at about ten o'clock in the morning. Numbers was on the pier to see the uncommon sight of a smack towing an abandoned cutter. That there Mason was handed over to the authorities, charged with murder and robbery. The British Consul took up the case.

When the facts were stated, and inquiries made, his innocence was established; but not afore 202 ♦THAT THERE MASON' he 'd lain three weeks in a beastly jail, fed on black bread, and denied his pipe. I don't say he came home much changed; but I allow the disappointment sunk as deep as his heart, and blacked it. And to this hour he 's not fit company for man nor beast. Look at him as he leans! ' Laughing together, we strolled off for our drinks, and I saw Mason turn his head to watch us as we walked.

203 f) r Tales of our coast main 823.00803T143 1970C.2 823.00803T1 43 1 970 C.2 ^^ 15L.2 021b0 2TM0 1 1. I i i i KEEP CARD IN POCKET Date Due DUE RETURNED DUE RETURNED J 1 1.