Part 31 (2/2)

”But they don't care for me, and I don't care for them--not a snap!”

cried Jessy; ”and as for Moffat, I'll never be quite happy so long as he's above ground. But my granny she cursed him properly the other day.

Maybe that'll bring him bad luck and you good!”

”Then is it true as your grandmother is a witch, Jessy?”

”I dunno; that's what folk say. She don't do n.o.body no harm as I can see; nor good neither, save with her herb potions, and them I make as well as she. But she's got a few queer books, and things she calls charms. She tells me about them sometimes, and she teaches me spells and curses and things; but I'd be half afraid to use them. Suppose they came true; how would one feel?”

”If it were a curse against Moffat and his crew, and it came true, I don't think I should feel very bad,” answered Tim. ”They're a wild, bad lot, my father and his men say. The sooner they are got rid of, the better for some of us!”

”Yes, indeed!” answered Jessy with a sigh; ”but they are bad ones to tackle, and no mistake.”

It was a few days after this, and Jessy was alone in the cave just as the sunset light was beginning to turn the water red. A load lay upon her heart; she knew not why. She felt as though something terrible were going to happen, but she could not guess what it could be.

Suddenly from over the water there came the sounds of voices,--angry, pa.s.sionate, triumphant voices,--voices that she knew.

She ran out of her shelter; and then what did she see? The well-known sails and masts of the _Black Prince_ almost close in sh.o.r.e, not being pursued by, but in hot pursuit of the revenue cutter, that had been watching for her, and had suddenly darted out to seize the prey.

Now it was a most unusual thing in those days for a smuggling vessel to turn aggressor. They were always built for speed, with a view of getting clear away from the King's boats and officers. The _Black Prince_ had always escaped by speed or seamans.h.i.+p hitherto; but to-day it seemed as though the fierce demon of hatred that possessed Moffat had dominated every other feeling.

It was he, not the revenue cutter, that was in pursuit; and even as Jessy gained the cave's mouth she saw the terrible work of butchery begin.

Moffat was the first to spring into the cutter and slash with furious rage at the man Rogers, whose head was laid open by a ghastly blow.

Other daring smugglers had followed, and the water was dyed red with something beside the sunset glow.

To her horror Jessy saw that Tim was in the boat.

”Swim for your life!” she cried; ”you can do nothing there. Jessy is here. Jessy will help you!”

The boy heard; the men did not. They were otherwise engrossed. The boy, powerless to help either father or friends, obeyed the call that had reached him, and as he dropped silently over the gunwale of the boat and struck out, Jessy plunged into the sea from her rock, and swam bravely out to meet him, uncertain whether or no he might have received some wound.

And it was well she did; for, though unwounded, the boy had had a severe blow upon the arm, and was only able to swim a short distance without feeling the numbness and powerlessness come again upon him. But Jessy was beside him; she could swim like a fish, and even weighted by her clothes, could give her shoulder to Tim, to support his useless arm, whilst she made her way with swift, strong strokes towards one of the darkest and narrowest crevices between the frowning cliffs, where she thought she and he might be safe from pursuit.

No direct rays of light came into this narrow cave, and there was a ledge of rock upon which she hoisted Tim, and where she scambled herself when he was safe, both gasping and exhausted; but, as they hoped, safe.

”Jessy, you have saved me! How brave you are!” cried Tim. But Jessy suddenly laid a hand upon his mouth.

”Hist! be quiet!” she whispered; ”they are coming after us! I hear their voices--and the plash of oars!”

It was too true. Moffat's wicked eyes had seen the golden head of Jessy; and he had missed the boy from the bottom of the boat, where he had been knocked over.

”They are in here!” cried a cruel voice; ”I saw them go myself. We have them here like rats in a trap.”

”Tim, have you a knife?” asked Jessy between shut teeth.

[Ill.u.s.tration: ”The first man that touches him I'll kill!” cried Jessy.

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