Part 9 (1/2)

”And min' yew, Dan,” he added, ”if us lands this un all right, us'll be rich, lad--ha! ha! Besides, wot's Hawkins got tow be afear'd of? The _Brixham_ can cut the winkers from the wind's eye, that she can. Tack and 'alf tack though buried in green seas, Dan. Never saw a craft tow sail closer tow a wind. Here's tow bold Hawkins and the brave _Brixham_!”

The toast was drunk from a black bottle which the ”capting” handed to Dan.

”'Ave a pull, chap; yew needs it to brace yewr courage tow the sticking-point.”

Captain Butler prided himself on the seaworthiness and fleetness of his cutter, the saucy little _Moonbeam_. Not that she had been much to look at, or much to sail either, when he took her over; for in those good old times the Admiralty was not a whit more generous with paint and copper nails than it is now. But One-legged Butler was a man of some means, who might have driven his coach on sh.o.r.e had he not been so fond of the brine and the breeze. So he had the _Moonbeam_ seen to at his own expense--not without asking and receiving permission, of course, for he was a strict-service man. Her bows were lengthened and her rig altered and improved; she was made, in fact, quite a model of.

And Captain Butler was justly proud of the _Moonbeam_. So highly did he regard her that he would not have marked her smooth and spotless deck with his timber toe to obtain his promotion, and therefore his servant had orders to always keep the end of that useful limb shod with softest leather.

Nothing that ever sailed got the weather-gauge on the _Moonbeam_.

Except the _Brixham_.

That smuggling sloop landed many a fine bale of silk, hogshead of wine, and tobacco galore, all along the south coast; but never had been caught. She was a fly-by-night and a veritable phantom. Thrice Butler had chased her. He might as well have attempted to overhaul a gull on the wing.

But to-night One-legged Butler meant to do or die. He knew she was going to venture into Tor Bay, and lie off at anchor under the lee of the cliffs. He could have boarded her in boats perhaps; but that would not have suited Butler's idea of seamans.h.i.+p. It must be neck or nothing--a fair race and a fair fight.

The _Brixham_ carried a dare-devil crew, however, and Hawkins feared nothing. The _Moonbeam_ would have her work cut out; but then all the more glory to the bold fellows on board of her; for these were the days when adventure was beloved for its own sake alone.

When, on the night previous, twenty brave blue-jackets from the _Tonneraire_ were told off for special service and sent aboard the little _Moonbeam_, which sailed a few hours after just as the moon was rising over the Hoe, they had no idea what was in the wind. From their armature of cutla.s.ses and pistols, they ”daresayed” there was a little bit of fighting to be done, and rejoiced accordingly, for Jack dearly loves a scrimmage. The wind blew high, even then tossing the cutter about like a cork, although she carried but little sail. By next forenoon, however, she had pa.s.sed Tor Bay, and lay in semi-hiding near Hope's Nose. There was the risk of the vessel's presence being discovered and reported to Scrivings and his gang; but there always are risks in warfare.

As soon as it was dusk a portion of the men were landed. Then the _Moonbeam_, although it blew big guns, set herself to watch for the foe.

Hour after hour flew by, and the moon, glinting now and then through a rift in the clouds, whitened the curling waves, but showed no signs of the _Brixham_, or of anything else.

It was an anxious time.

At twelve o'clock grog and biscuits were served out. The men never had time to swallow a mouthful--of biscuit, I mean. No doubt they drank the grog, for those were the days of can-tossing, a custom now happily but seldom honoured.

Yes, there she was! It could be none other save daring Hawkins in the _Brixham_.

Small look-out was being kept to-night, however, on the smuggler.

The _Moonbeam_ swept down on her as hawk swoops down on his prey, and although Tor Bay is wondrous wide, and the _Brixham_ was nearly in the centre of it, the cutter was on her in a surprisingly short time.

Fine seamans.h.i.+p, fine steering, to sheer alongside and grapple, despite the fact that the sea had gone down, and the waves were partially under the lee of the hills.

If ever man was surprised, that man was Smuggler Hawkins. But he answered the call to surrender with a shout of defiance.

After this it was all a wild medley of pistols cracking, cutla.s.ses clas.h.i.+ng, cries--yes, and, I am sorry to say, a few groans; for blood was shed, and one man at least would never sail the salt seas more. But if blood was shed, the seas washed it off; for the fight took place with the spray driving over both vessels, white in the moonlight.

A prize crew was left on the _Brixham_, and in less than twenty minutes both craft were safe at anchor in Torquay harbour.

Meanwhile, the party who had been landed near to Hope's Nose had made their way inland, bearing somewhat to the east to make a detour, both for the purpose of getting well in the rear of the smugglers'

cottage--where Tom Fairlie, who was in command, knew the smugglers were to be found--and because the night was still young.