Part 55 (1/2)

For the lugger was swinging to the buoy that lay about a hundred yards out, and we could see figures on board.

There was a brisk breeze blowing down the Gap, and the lugger was end-on towards us, rising and falling on the swell, while the sea was all rippled by the wind.

”Look, father,” I said, as we went on down, seeing each moment more and more of the opening to the sea; ”there's a boat coming ash.o.r.e.”

”Man-o'-war's,” cried my father excitedly. ”Look at the way the oars dip, Sep. Hah, it's a treat to see the lads handle them again. There she is!” he cried. ”Look! Why, it's the revenue cutter.”

She had just rounded a bend as he spoke, and there, sure enough, was a large cutter with snow-white sails lying off the point that formed the east side of the Gap, head to wind, and waiting evidently for the return of the boat that had come ash.o.r.e.

My father walked rapidly on, and we reached the sh.o.r.e nearly at the same time as the boat, from which sprang an officer, and to our surprise Jonas Uggleston stepped out more slowly.

Just then Bigley appeared, I never knew where from; but I think he must have been watching from among the rocks, and in a quick husky voice he said to my father:

”Captain Duncan, please, pray don't say that you saw that cargo landed last night.”

”My poor lad!” said my father kindly. ”But tell me; have the cutter's men been aboard the lugger?”

”Yes, sir, searching her, I think; and you see they chased her in, and now they're bringing father ash.o.r.e a prisoner.”

He could say no more, for the cutter's officer came up.

”You are Captain Duncan, I think?” he said.

”Yes,” said my father, returning his salute. ”Whom have I the pleasure of addressing?”

”Lieutenant Melton, His Majesty's cutter _Flying Fish_.”

They both saluted again, and old Jonas, who looked curiously yellow, and with his eyes seeming to search the officer's, drew nearer.

”Look here, Captain Duncan, I have been for some time on the look-out for this man.”

”Well, sir, you have caught him,” said my father coldly.

”Yes, sir, I have, and I have overhauled the lugger, but without success.”

Old Jonas glanced at me and then at my father, who did not speak, only bowed, and the officer went on.

”Now, then, Captain Duncan; you know this man to be a notorious smuggler, do you not?”

”I have heard him called so.”

”And you know it, sir.”

”I never detected Mr Uggleston in any act of smuggling,” replied my father more coldly, for the officer's hectoring manner offended him, and I felt that if he told what he knew, it would be to someone more in authority.

I glanced at old Jonas, and his eyes twinkled with satisfaction.

”This is prevarication, sir,” cried the lieutenant; ”but I am not to be put off like this. Come, sir, I received information about a very valuable contraband cargo that has been run from Dunquerque. It has been landed here successfully during the past night or the night before.

Now, sir, if you please, where was that cargo landed?”