Read Ebook: Contraband: A Tale of Modern Smugglers by Spencer Erle

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Ebook has 907 lines and 37191 words, and 19 pages

content.

"It's only an eight-hour run from here," said Dare.

"Ten on a day like this," declared Ben.

"I hope we'll be able to land," said Dare anxiously. "It's pretty rough."

"We'll lose this sea when we rounds into the Bay," Ben told him. "There's smooth water off Saltern. Never fear, we'll land all right."

"I hope so!" ejaculated Dare.

"I say, Ben," he added, a little later, "do you suppose it's true what that chap was saying about those Saltern fellows being the hardest lot going?"

"I don't disbelieve it," said the old sailor. He put his hand in his pocket and drew out a black-bowled clay pipe of incredible age, and began to fill it dotingly. Dare remained silent while the rite was being performed, gazing the while on the grizzled veteran.

Ben was also "sixty if he was a day," but hard as nails yet. His face, tanned the colour of a barked sail, was battered and ugly, but good nature lit it and made it human and friendly. His short stature, long arms, bowed legs, and slightly leaning-forward posture gave him the appearance of a gorilla; but there the resemblance ended, for under his hardened exterior he had the tender heart of a child.

"There's one of 'em in the steerage," he said when his pipe was drawing well.

"One of what?" asked Dare.

"One of them fellers from Saltern Bay."

"A smuggler?" exclaimed Dare, excited at the possibility.

"That's as may be. He hails from Tarnish. He told me a lot about the smugglin' game."

"Ah!"

"Aye, he knows a thing or two, he do. Know what he said?"

"No."

"He laughed when I asked if there warn't no way of stoppin' the smugglin', and said, 'Not while there's a oven in Saltern Bay,' said he.

"'And what eggsactly do you mean by that?" I asked him.

"'Oh,' he said, 'that's a riddle.'

"'But what might ovens which is meant for cookin' have to do with it, anyhow?' I asks again.

"He laughed a great laugh and he said, 'That's fer you to find out.'"

"Well?" demanded Dare eagerly, as Ben stopped. "What then?"

"Nothing," replied Ben. "That's all."

"It sounds meaningless to me," said Dare. "Do you suppose he was pulling your leg?"

"He might have been and yet he might not."

"You didn't tell him the business we're on?"

"Trust me," assured Ben dryly.

"Well, we can do little but guess about things yet. I expect father will have a few things to tell us when we see him."

"Not a doubt of it."

"Let's see. What time ought we to get there? Eight hours' run. It's two o'clock now. Allow an hour for delay here. We ought to do it by eleven o'clock."

"Aye, around midnight," said Ben.

FIRST BLOOD TO THE SMUGGLERS

A raucous blast of the ship's siren woke echoes between the surrounding hills, but did not seemingly awake the people who lay sleeping between them. Dare, leaning eagerly over the rail with his gaze fixed shorewards, thought ruefully that such a sleepy town was not likely to yield much in the shape of adventure. He had not much time to dwell on that, however. Soon Ben, who had been collecting the luggage and seeing it safely stowed in the boat, which had just been lowered, came up, and they both went to the ship's ladder. A few minutes later they were being rowed ashore.

As the boat shot between the quays jutting out from the harbour, Dare searched the blackness in vain for the gleam of a friendly light.

"Doesn't look as if father has come to meet us," he said to Ben. That worthy merely grunted.

The boat was rowed towards some steps at the foot of the quay on the town side, and they disembarked without further speech. Their luggage was taken out of the boat and placed on the quay by the boat's crew, which then went swinging off into the darkness, leaving Ben and Dare to make their way through the town as best they could.

"Here's a to-do," then grumbled Ben. "No one to meet us and it pitch dark and we not knowin' the road or the house."

"The best thing we can do is to follow the boat's crew," suggested Dare. "It's likely the post office is not far from the Customs."

They were, in fact, housed in the same building. Ben agreed, and picking their way as well as they could, they set off to follow the crew, with only the sound of the others' heavy tread to guide them.

They managed well enough until they came to a turning, and by that time the crew were so far ahead that neither Ben nor Dare could determine which way they had taken. In this somewhat absurd predicament they hesitated, Ben making use of the occasion as an opportunity to air his vocabulary. They were about to go straight ahead, when they saw a light approaching from the turning, and decided to accost whoever carried it. As the bearer of the light approached, they saw that it was a woman. Ben, taking the initiative, went to speak to her.

"I'm sure it's the first time you ever done it, Ben Saleby," came the tart interpolation.

"Why, it's Martha!" exclaimed Dare joyfully. Ben grunted.

Martha, the family servant for twenty years, and housekeeper since the death of Mrs. Stanley ten years before, had in the course of her duties married Ben, to that individual's never-ending surprise and astonishment. They got along very well together, however, having both the same interests--that is, the welfare of the Stanleys, and although Martha, by virtue of her superior position and her longer length of service, was inclined to be tart with Ben now and then, Ben did not seem to mind it. He had been well disciplined on the quarterdeck, and it is to be supposed that he found something reminiscent of his sailing days in Martha's summary treatment of him at times.

"Yes, it's me, Mr. Derek," answered Martha. Dare's real name was Derek, but a tendency during early childhood to dare his acquaintances to dare him to attempt incredible exploits had earned him his nickname, which had in time ousted his real name from use by all except Martha, who was exceedingly rigid as regards the impropriety of misnaming those she served.

"And what might you be doing, Ben Saleby, talking to a female like this?"

"I was goin' to ask the way. We've lost our bearings," explained Ben. Martha sniffed.

"And how might you be, Martha?" Ben asked appeasingly.

"Well enough," said Martha shortly.

Ben nudged Dare's arm and said sotto voce, "In a temper."

"What's that?" demanded Martha, who was sharp of hearing.

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