MORNA DALE; OR, The Forgery. CHAPTER VII.

Te Aroha News, Volume IV, Issue 199, 16 April 1887, Page 7

MORNA DALE; OR, The Forgery.

CHAPTER VII.

By SYLVANUS COBB, Jb,

THE SMUGGLER—TAKEN CAPTIVE. Walling Cove wbb a deep, land-looked inlet of the sea, a few miles distant from Wallingham, towards the west. " Here on the day following the events last recorded lay at single anchor a heavy lugger, flying light, the breadth of her weatherboard plainly indicating that she was free of cargo. There had been a light shower of rain during the night last past, and her sails had been let loose to dry. A seaman, knowing nothing of the vessel's character, would be apt to gaze in wonder upon the vast spread of canvas in that lugeail. It overshadowed the hull cemp'etely, affording surface enough, one would think, for a craft three times the size of that over which it now hang, But those who stood upon the lugger's deck well knew the virtue of that sail. Give the bold smuggler a good offing, and a breezeof any kind, and the vessels were few and far between that could get ahead of her wake. There were at the present time— near the middle of the forenoon — ten men on the lugger's deck, one of whom was her cornman ler— Jack Armstrong, a name familiar to nearly every customs officer and coast guard in the Bouth of England ; and yet he had never been convicted of tampering with Her Majesty's revenue. He was a short, powerfully- built man, of middle ago, a perfect type of the rough and f earlesa old English seaman. He had been boatswain's mate of a frigate, and captain of an honest trader ; but his heart turned most warmly to the calling he now followed- And he was not all selfieh. He told himself that he -was benefiting the poor and needy of his countrymen iv giving them spirits, and tea, and sugar, and tobacco without adding to the price thereof a burdensome tax for the support of a privileged class. Of his crew we need only cay : They were men picked by himself from hundreds, and were ac bold and fearless as himself, and ready for any adventure that promised a goodly profit. As we look on board the smuggler the boatswain had reported fco Capfc. Jack that the canvas was "dry as a baked chip," whereupon the sail was ordered to be taken in. This was done, and then, feeling in a convivial mood, the captain had his steward to bring up the grog-tub The tub had been set upon the quarter deck, and the men had armed themselves with their tots —small tin drinking cups— when a boat, which had put off from the shore a little while before, was made out to be approaching the lugger. The captain got his spy-glasa an.d took a look at the boat and its inmates— three of them— one of whom eat in the stern-sheets, steering, while the others pulled the oar. "I can't make him out," Jack sMd, when he had taken a fair view. " The oarsmen are all right ; and I guess he's the same. Anyhow, he isn't an officer." Ere long the boat had come alongside, and pulled up under the gangway ; and he of the stern-sheets came over the side, leaving his two companions behind Capt. Jack took a step forward, and looked into the stranger's face. 11 Old Jack ! Don't you know me ?" " What !— No '.-It can't be !— Why, bles9 my tar'y top-lights ! if it isn't Tom ! —Tom Crandal ! Tom, old boy, is it yerself ?" "Yes, Jack, it is Tom himself. I was told the lugger was yours, and as I wanted to see you, I came off " " Well ! well !" standing off, and looking him over from top to toe, " who'd a' thought it ! Bless me, Tom, how you've grow'd 1 And how you've filled out 1 Here 1 you're just in the nick of time. Bring a tot, somebody, for our friend." Tom wae introduced to the members of the crew, ac one thoroughly versed in their peculiar calling, after which the grog circulated, and several toasts were drunk} At length, when the visitor felt that he had drunk enough, he drew Capt. Jack aeide and asked for a few minutes of his time for the explaining of a matter of business. The smuggler chief gave a sweeping glance over the deck, and then led the way down into his cabin, where his visitor was offered a pipe, which he accepted with thanks. " Now, Tom, heave ahead. What's in the wind ?" "Jack," said young Crandal, when he had got his pipe well alight, " 1 will come ' etraight to the point. Between you and me there is no need of backing and filling after the fashion of pettifogging lawyerß. The case is just this : There is a certain man so much in my way that I would give a goodly sum to have him out of it. I could settle his account quickly enough, without help if I were disposed to kill him outright, but that Ido not care to do. I never did kill a man in cold blood, and! never will. The man of whom I speak must die, but he shall have a chance, though a slim one, Tell me, can you give two men who will serve my purpose ?" " Let me understand you, Tom. D'you want these men to go ahead alone, and navigate this thing ?" " Bless you, no. I ehall go with them, ■and take the lead. You'll understand, Jack, it's no fool of a job to take a smart, powerful young man, in a thickly settled town like Wallingham, and carry him off against his will, without making more noise than would be pleasant." •'Aye, I understand. He'a a young man ?" " Yea ; not so old as myself by a year or so, but, I am told, one of the strongest young fellows going." '* W-h-e-w!" whistled Captain Jack, with a significant nod, and a curious pucker of his heavily-bearded lips. U I think I understand. Aye, Tom, and I'm with you, too. I've heard of the baronet's foundliDg — hia adopted Bon, come call him— but I don't know that I ever saw him. I can • imagine how he stands in your light. Lord save us ! If tho likes qI up won't stand by - one another, what'd the use of friendship ? Let me thiok.- Aye," he went on, after a little thought, " I've got just the men you want. They're ashore just; now, but it's time they were off. If you'll wait till they come, I'll bring them down ; or you can, come on deck, and wait for 'em there." , The matter was settled, however, and without further discussion; for before. the visitor had made up bis mind <vhich,,he would do— go on, deck or wait in tijecabjjp — the splash of oars was heard alongside, ani shortly. afterwards a fresh arrival on £he lugger's .deck, , Captain Jack went' up,, leaving Tom, behind, and ere,, long he re^ turned, followed jay, two strong, w.eath.e.r-, beaten and battle-scarred seamen, _> ; „'

Tom Crandal looked upon ttw^nwcaxnersj; and started to his ,fe«t with a ory of gUdssa. r •■••*' ' •'-»•••« '*•••'/* :";' «wkf Betbl' All^Hmpfcll ! £ '.V.'A m 4 X dreamingf" l "' "'," u > ' "•!' '"' « N*Vbtt>! ft Oa^nj™« AffM't aa sure us you tyye. Buff, Lord .B&vd ufe | where'd ybit&me koto'V* And'fcho'Pir ,6f them took each a hand of th'eir former commander aud pressed it hard., f | ( , „,, Tom was delighted. He had no need to ask if these men would answeif hfa purpose. They had sailed with him on the other side of the Atlantic; had stood fry his aide in many a hard-fought battle j had helped him to capture many a valuable prize ; and had only loft him when he ha,d given up^is rover's commissipri and announced, his pur pose to make a tun to Africa.* ' Ana even then they would have Stuok by him had he needed them; but for the purpose of running a cargo of slaves not half as many men were required as had composed tho crew of the buccaneer. ' They had parted in friendship, Bert Downer and Alf Plimpell feeling in their hearts that to Capt. Tom Crandal they owed life itself if he could require the sacrifice. They were comparatively young men, the first being not more than five-and-thirfcy, while the other must have been five years younger. They were powerfully built fellows, and not ilMcokiug. Bold and reckless, of course, they were : and we may truthfully say, they wore not without good feeling ; but that good feeling was in itself a source of danger, since it bound them to others as bold and reckless as themselves, and might lead them to the commitment of any atrocity against society, so that it were in the service of a cherished comrade. Captain Jack remained in the cabin until he had gained a knowledge of the relation which had formerly existed between his two men and his visitor, and then he withdrew and left the trio to themselves. At the end of half an hour, Captain Tom came up, and with him his two old shipmates. The commander of the lugger was once more drawn aside, and whatever favour Tom asked at his hands was granted. Later still, when Crandal left the lugger, to return in his boat to the shore, Bert Downer and Alf Flimpell went with him. In the early evening of this same day that witnessed Tom Crandal's visit to the smuggler, Halph Ashmore had made hia last round among the patients given especially i to his charge, and was on his way to the office of the president, when he met that individual in one of the open wards. "Dr. Laybrook, I think I will drive over to the Grange this evening ; and if you can spare me, I should like to tatry until noon to-morrow." "You may go, Ralph." The good old doctor always spoke thus familiarly with his favourite pupil. When he addressed a young man by his Christian name, it was safe to decide that he spoko with one whom he loved and esteemed. " Go, by all means ; and if Digby will look to your patients, you may remain through the day if you wish. But let me give you a bib ot advice. If you propose to drive over, take a close chaise, and get off as soon aa you can. I just came in, and I think a storm is brewing." Our hero was grateful for the doctor's kind permission and for his counsel, and he promised that be would take heed. While pursuing his studies, Ralph had found a home in tha family of Dr. Laybrook ; but on receiving his degree, and entering upon his practice in the hospital, he had preferred to take rooms at a comfortable hotel, kept by a near relative of the good old doctor, where he was promised all the comforts and privileges of home, and where he would feel more free to come and go at pleasure than he could feel while a boarder in a private family. This hotal was a third of a mile distant from the hospital, and considerably nearer to the water. With regard to the location of the town in relation to the waters of the Channel, we will simply say, there was no sheltered harbour ; in fact, no harbour of any kind, so that but few of the dwellings were situated near to the shore. The principal charm of the locality was its beautiful beach, a broad, gently sloping surface of white sand, level as a house floor, and over a mile in length ; and the hotel where our hero had made his home overlooked this bsach, and had a boat-landing of ite own extending out to tho tide. It was nearly dark when Ralph left the hospital, and he could feel the coming rain in the air. The gathering clouds had anticipated the legitimate shadows of evening, and night was coming prematurely. But the moon, only a day or two past its full, would very soon be up and the way would theu he light enough for comfortable driving, despite the clouds and the threatened storm. And moreover the road to the cove was straight and broad, from the track of which a sensible horse could not wander in the darkest night. 11 Can coming events cast their shadows I before?" the young physician asked himself, speaking his thoughts audibly. *' What can it be that oppresses me ? It cannot be the clouds. lam used to them. It cannot be the coming Ptorm, for I do not dread it. Somehow my thoughts go out to our dear parent, on his long and dangerous voyage. He must be now— Why ! —in India, to be sure ! But- is he there? Did he reach the promised haven ? —Ah ! Hark ! What is that ? Is the old ruin inhabited ?" He had reached a point within sight of the waters of the Channel where, upon his left hand, on a narrow street, were the walls of a building, moft of the interior of which had been burned out by an accidental fire. The dwelling—for such it had ' been— had set back from tha street with a court in front, guarded by a high brick wall, midway of which had been a wide gate, under a stone arch. < The gate had been torn away by the firemen on the occasion of the burning, and since that time the court, and the broad walk to the front door, and the, archway itself had been cumbered by charred and broken lumber from the ruins. As he passed this open arch our hero was sure he heard a movement in the court, and that a beam of lamplight streamed out through tho darkness. Whether the light was in the house or in the space before it he could not determine. However, when hs had stopped, and turned, and peered into the gloomy place, he told himself that it must have been a creation of his fancy, and with a light " Pooh, pooh 1" and a laugh he again turned his face homeward and quickened his steps. He had gone the distance of a rod, 1 perhaps, when a quick tread behind:- him— a tread that bad a suspicious ring— caused him once .more .to 'stop and turn, A shadowy something .that shut out every-, thing ibeyond— he saw it fora single instant) and. then, before ho could even think, a large, chick, ponderous muffler,, like a heavily padded bed coverlet,^or comforter,' Jwas thrown" over his head, and quickly, strong hands gathered > it jjclqsely M around pirn, while other hands' seized 'upon his arms and bound them behind him. He, was a. strong and resolute man, and brave' as the bravest, but he had been taken at al disadvantage, <so that even, his power to ■fcruggte was taken from him, The only thing , jie' 4 c6uld do' was' c to try-'to^tdiee

rbtfflßJl«rftnn»ipr WHßrhe'aia TPweently' , put M you. is&ke, a noiee, ft^lo^.o^tbe^head j w^,B9(itie v y Jo'q;.Bure. J o'q;.8ure. . Be gave,' yourself^; The oatha mingle^ ,?W ,the/ 9peebh made it horrible. Ji^d,- the captive, made no farther attempt, tp oall assistance., : , ... The, locality was lonely. Above and below the space of the > ruin were large structures, flush with the street, occupied by- citizens in the daytime, but tenants after dark. On the opposite side of the way, was a high dead wall, shutting in the back yjards of dwellings, that fronted- on .another street. The only chance there was of the outrage being seen by others lay in the possible, passing of homeward-bound pedestrians like himself ; but this chance was slim. Besides the hotel there was scarcely another dwelling in the same direction to be reached by that narrow way, ; A few moments after the note of warning had sounded in his ears, the young physician knew that he was being led | back into the court of the ruin ; probably for the purpose of robbery. For an instant the wish was in his mind that he had more money about his person, and that his watch and his diamoud ring were at home. His watch was a fine Dent chronometer, in a heavy gold case, a present from a few wealthy patients who felt that to him they owed their lives. He had been called to them while a terrible epidemic was depopulating the region round about of high and low alike ; and of fourteen householders and men of business whom he had treated only one died, and that one was stricken with death when he first went to his bedside. His diamond ring was still more valuable —more valuable in every way. It was a stone of the very firßt water, without flaw or blemish, and very large— a present from Sir William. Money could not replace it What could it mean ? He had boon led a considerable distance, he knew, up into the cluttered court, and there his captore stopped, and presently one of them went away. He then made out that there had been three of them He could hear an indistinct hum of voices, but could distinguish no word. The minutes passed on, and no motion of any kind was further made. By thi? time the thick muffler was becoming more than uncomfortable. It was interfering with his breathing. Either his face had swollen or the gag had been drawn more closely. At length it became suffocating and insupportable. With all his might he struggled to ask for air. O ! for a breath that could ea3e hia tortured lungs ! After a time the ruffians eeemed to comprehend his entreaty, and the muffler was speedily loosened, and space sufficent was afforded between the cloth and his lips to allow him to breath quite freely. For a few moments the relict was so great —the transition from suffocation to life co palpable and real —that he forgot his other sufferings, and felt grateful. But the gratiitude was not lasting. What could they mean? What were they keeping him there for? If they had intended to rob him, they would have done it long ago, and left him to himself ; but they seemed inclined to do of the kindi Evidently robbery was not their object. If not that, then what c6uld it be? A chilling, nameless, shapeless terror struck to his heart. He thought of Sir William dead ; and again came the shadow of his dream —the death of Morna's father. Something— he knew not what, nor whence it came— something whispered to him of Lawrence Dale— Dead! Dead! Dead! And then he thought of Morna herself. And then -of another— of Jonas Grandal. Why had that man been so silent and so reserved all tbeae months ? Hark ! Through the thick muffler, vibrating upon the tympanum of his ear, came the rumble of wheels upon the pavement of the street ; and it seemed to stop near the arch of the gateway. A moment later the two men with him — one on each side — drew him hurriedly away from the spot where they had been standing -drew him on, over the clutter and the litter— on, until he felt his feet strike the firm pavement. Then he was lifte i down from the Bidewalk into the street— a few stepa farther, and two pairs of strong hands raised him up, and threw him forward into the interior of a close coach. His sense of feeling and his sense of smelling told him his situation. After this a few words were spoken by the party outside ; then two of the ruffians entered the vehicle, and lifted him on to a seat; and a little later the horses were started at a moderate pace, which was ere long quickened until they were being whirled swiftly away on the road that skirted the channel towards the west. What could it mean? What would they do with him ? (To be Continued.)