For, as he stared out at the cutter's lights, all at once they disappeared.

He gazed till his eyes seemed starting, but there was no doubt about it; they had been put out or covered; and turning sharply round, he hid the lantern he carried, and turned over the other with his foot prior to stooping and blowing it out.

The signal had been seen.



CHAPTER THIRTY TWO.

HILARY GETS IN A QUEER FIX.

With his heart throbbing with joy Hilary now proceeded to reverse his performance, for, taking off his jacket once more, he enveloped the burning lantern, picked up the other that was emitting an abominable odour, and hastily carried them back to the hollow where he found them.

It was so dark that he was doubtful whether he had found the right place, but he kicked against another lantern, and that convinced him.

Placing the burning one on the ground, he relit the other, his hands trembling so that he hardly knew what he did, and impeded himself to no slight degree. He succeeded, however, and had just set the second lantern down as nearly as he could remember, when he fancied he heard a sound as of some one snoring, and glancing in the direction, he saw to his horror that a man was lying there asleep.

For a few moments he felt paralysed, and stood there holding his jacket in his hand unable to move, as he asked himself whether that man had been there when he spoke and took the lights.

As he stood there wondering, he heard a voice call "Jem!" in a low tone; and this roused Hilary, who dropped down and crept away, glancing to seaward as he did so, where the cutter's lights—if it was she—once more brightly burned.

He did not dare to go far, but lay flat upon the turf, listening as someone came up; and then there was a dull noise as of a man kicking another.

"Get up, Jem! Do you hear! Why, what a fellow you are to sleep!"

"Hullo! Oh, all right," said another voice; and now Hilary could see two men standing, their figures plainly shown against the lantern's light. "Oh, yes; it's all very well to say 'Hullo!' and 'All right!'" grumbled the first voice; "I never see such a fellow to sleep."

"Have you done?" said the sleepy one yawning.

"Done? No; nor half done; she's got a heavy cargo. If we get done in three hours we shall have worked well. Put out them candles, and come and haul."

The lights were extinguished; and Hilary, wondering at his escape, felt his heart bound with joy, for by that time the crews of a couple of boats must have been mustered on the Kestrel's deck, and in another five minutes they would be pulling, with muffled oars, towards the shore.

"Ah! if I were only in command of one!" cried Hilary to himself; "but as I am not, can I do anything more to help our fellows besides bringing them ashore?"

It was a question that puzzled him to answer, and he lay there on the turf wondering what it would be best to do, ending by making up his mind to creep down as cautiously as he could in the direction taken by the two men.

"The worst that could happen to me," he thought, "would be that I should be taken; and if I am made prisoner once more, it will only be in the cause of duty—so here goes."

The darkness favoured him as far as concealment was concerned, but it had its disadvantages. A little way to his left was the edge of the cliff, and Hilary knew that if he were not careful he would reach the shore in a way not only unpleasant to himself, but which would totally spoil him for farther service; so he exercised as much caution for self-preservation as he did to keep himself hidden from his enemies.

There was a well-beaten track, and, following this, he found the descent was very rapid into a little valley-like depression, from the bottom of which came the faint creak of a pulley now and then, with mingled sounds of busy men going to and fro with loads, which they seemed to be, as he judged, carrying up to carts somewhere at the head of the ravine.

He could see very little, the darkness was so great; but his keen sense of hearing supplied the want of sight; and as he lay beside a clump of what seemed to be furze, he very soon arrived at a tolerably good idea of what was going on.

Still he was not satisfied. He wanted to realise more thoroughly the whole procedure of the smugglers, so that if the present attempt should prove a failure he might be in a position to circumvent them another time.

It was a great risk to go any nearer, and it might result in capture, perhaps in being knocked down; but he determined to go on, especially as it grew darker every minute, the stars being completely blotted out by a curtain of cloud that came sweeping over the sky.

He hesitated for a few moments, and then crept on, listening intently the while.

The smugglers were still some distance off, down towards the edge of the lower cliff; and he crept nearer and nearer, till to his horror he found that the clearness of the part about him was only due to the cessation of the carrying for a few minutes, and now a party seemed to be coming up from the cliff edge, apparently loaded, while, when he turned to retreat, he found by the sound of voices that another party was coming down.

His manifest proceeding then was to get out of the track, but, to his horror, he found that he was down in a rift between two high walls of rock, and his first attempt to climb up resulted in a slip back, scratching his hands, and tearing his clothes.

Before he could make a second attempt he was seized by a pair of strong arms and forced down upon his knees; and dimly in the gloom he could make out that he was pretty well surrounded by rough-looking men.

"Caught you, have I?" said a deep voice.

Hilary remained silent. It was of no avail to struggle, and he reserved his strength for a better opportunity to escape.

He thought of shouting aloud to the boats, which he hoped were now well on their way; but he restrained himself, as he felt that the success of their approach depended upon their secrecy, so he merely hung down his head, without offering the slightest resistance.

He had his reward.

"Get up, you lazy, skulking lubber!" cried his captor, "or I'll rope's-end you." This, by the way, was rather cool language, especially after forcing the captive down upon his knees.

"Here are we to work like plantation niggers at the oars, rowing night and day, and you 'long-shore idlers leave us to do all the work."

"Why, he takes me for one of their party," thought Hilary; and, dark though it was, he felt astonished at the man's stupidity, for it did not occur to him then that he was hatless, that his hair was rough, his face and hands anything but clean, and his old uniform shrunken by his immersion, and so caked with mud and dirt, and withal so torn and ragged, that even by broad daylight anyone would have strongly doubted that he was a king's officer, while in the gloom of that ravine he could easily be taken for a rough-looking carrier belonging to their gang.

"Come on," said the man hauling him along, "I've got a nice little job for you. I don't care for your sulky looks. Go it, my lads. Got the lot?" he continued, as a line of loaded men filed past them, they having to stand back against the rock to let the burdened party pass.

"All? no; nor yet half," was the reply. "There, get on."

"All right. Take it easy," was the reply; and, trying hard to make out the surroundings, Hilary made no resistance, but let himself be hurried along down the declivity they were in, till he found himself on a platform of trampled earth, where, as far as he could make out against the skyline, a rough kind of shears was rigged up, and, by means of a block, a couple of men were hauling up packages, and another was landing them upon the platform, and unfastening and sending down the empty hooks.

"Here, one of you carry now," said Hilary's captor, "and let this joker haul. I found him trying to miche, and nipped him as he was skulking off. Lay hold, you lazy lubber, and haul."

One of the men left the rope, and assuming a sulky, injured manner, Hilary took his place at the rope, and, upon the signal being given, hauled away with his new companion, who gave a grunt indicative of satisfaction, as he found how well Hilary kept time with him, bringing his strength to bear in unison with the other's, so that they worked like one man.

"Ah, that's better!" he said. "I've been doing all the work."

They had brought a keg above the cliff edge, and this being detached, Hilary's captor mounted it upon his shoulders, and the man who had been hauling in Hilary's place took up a package and they began to move off.

"Let me know if he don't work," said the rough-voiced man.

"I'll soon be back. Mind he don't slip off."

"All right," said Hilary's companion.

"Haul," said a voice, and they pulled up another keg, while the tramping of men could be plainly heard below, telling Hilary of what was going on.

"Why," he thought, as he worked steadily on, "this is where they hauled me up, the rascals; and now—"

He could not help laughing to himself at the strange trick Fate had played him in setting him, a naval officer, helping a party of smugglers to land their cargo; but all the same, he gloried in the amount of information he was picking up for some future time.

"I don't seem to know you," said the man beside him at last, after they had hauled up several packages and kegs. "Did old Allstone send you to help?"

This was a poser, and Hilary paused for a moment or two before saying frankly:

"No; he didn't want me to come."

"Ah! he's a nice 'un," growled the other. "I wish I'd my way; I'd make him work a little harder. He's always skulking up at the old manor."

Hilary uttered a low grunt, and in the intervals of hauling he strained his eyes to grasp all he could of his surroundings; but there was very little to see. He could make out that he was at the edge of a lower part of the cliff; that the rock-strewn beach was, as far as he could make out by the hauling, some forty feet below; that the platform where he stood was the sea termination of a gully, where probably in wet weather a stream ran down and over the edge in a kind of fall, while on either side the cliff towered up to a great height.

There was not much to learn, but it was enough to teach him what he wanted to know, and it quite explained the success of the smugglers in evading capture.

Hilary had strained his eyes again and again seaward; but, save that the cutter's lights were burning brightly in the darkness, there was no sign of coming help, though, for the matter of that, a fleet of small boats might have landed and been unseen from where he stood.

The man's suspicions seemed to have been lulled, and Hilary kept on hauling. The men came and went from where they were to the carts that he judged to be waiting, and those below, like dim shadows just seen now and then, toiled on over the rocks, but still no sign of the cutter's boats, and in despair now of my such capture as might have been made, Hilary was thinking that when a suitable opportunity occurred he would seize hold of the hook with one hand, retain the hauling rope in the other, and let himself rapidly down, when there was a shrill chirruping whistle from below, the scrambling of feet, and a voice from the beach said sharply:

"Quick there! Luggers ahoy! Look out!"



CHAPTER THIRTY THREE.

TOM TULLY ACTS AS GUIDE.

Lieutenant Lipscombe's eye had grown rapidly better, and his temper rapidly worse. He had grumbled at Chips for being so long over his task of repairing the deck and hatchway, and Chips had responded by leaving off to sharpen his tools, after which he had diligently set traps to catch his superior officer, who never went near the carpenter without running risks of laming himself by treading upon nails half buried in the deck, or being knocked down by pieces of wood delicately poised upon one end so that the slightest touch would send them over with a crash.

Chips never trod upon the upright nails, cut himself against the tools, or touched the pieces of wood or planks to make them fall. He moved about slowly, like a bear, and somehow seemed to be charmed; but it was different with the lieutenant: he never went near to grumble without putting his foot straight upon the first upright clout-nail, or leaning his arm or hand upon some ticklishly-balanced piece of plank. The consequences were that he was several times a good deal hurt, and then Chips seemed exceedingly sorry, and said he was.

But the lieutenant forgot his little accidents next day, and went straight to the carpenter, bullied him again, and after bearing it for awhile Chips's adze would become so blunt that he was obliged to go off to the grindstone, where he would stop for a couple of hours, a good deal of which time was spent in oiling the spindle before he began.

At last, though he was obliged to finish his task, and after waiting for the deck to be done as the time when he would go straight into harbour and report Hilary's desertion, as he persisted in calling it, Lieutenant Lipscombe concluded that he would not go, but give the young officer a chance to come back.

Meanwhile he had cruised about, chased and boarded vessels without there being the slightest necessity, put in at one or two places where he heard rumours that the Young Pretender was expected to land off the coast somewhere close at hand, heard the report contradicted at the next place he touched at, and then went cruising up and down once more.

One day he chased and boarded a lugger that bore despatches from France to certain emissaries in England; but the lieutenant did not find the despatches, only some dried fish, which he captured and had conveyed on board the cutter.

His men grumbled, and said that Master Leigh ought to be found, and there was some talk of petitioning the lieutenant to form another expedition in search of the missing man; but the lieutenant had no intention of going ashore in the dark to get his men knocked about by invisible foes without the prospect of a grand haul of prize-money at the end; so he turned a deaf ear to all suggestions for such a proceeding, and kept on cruising up and down.

"I tell you what it is," said Tom Tully on the evening of Hilary's escape, as the men were all grouped together in the forecastle enjoying a smoke and a yarn or two, "it strikes me as we're doing a wonderful lot o' good upon this here station. What do you say, Jack Brown?"

"Wonderful!" said the boatswain, falling into the speaker's sarcastic vein.

"Ah!" said Chips, "we shall never get all our prize-money spent, boys."

"No," said the corporal of marines, "never. I say, speaking as a orsifer, oughtn't we to have another one in place of Master Leigh?"

"No," said Tom Tully. "We couldn't get another like he."

"That's a true word, Tommy," said Billy Waters, who did not often agree with the big sailor. "We couldn't get another now he's lost."

"But that's all werry well," said Chips; "but it won't do. If I lost my adze or caulking-hammer overboard, I must have another, mustn't I?" No one answered, and he continued:

"If you lost the rammer of the big gun, Billy Waters, or the corporal here hadn't got his bayonet, he'd want a new one; so why shouldn't we have a new orsifer?"

"Don't know," said Billy Waters gruffly; and as the carpenter looked at each in turn, the men all shook their heads, and then they all smoked in silence.

"I wishes as we could find him again," said Tom Tully; "and as he'd chuck the skipper overboard, or send him afloat in the dinghy, and command the cutter hisself, and I don't kear who tells the luff as I said it."

"No one ain't going to tell on you, Tommy," said Billy Waters reprovingly; for the big sailor had looked defiantly round, and ended by staring him defiantly in the face. "We all wishes as the young chap could be found, and that he was back aboard; and I think as it ought to be all reported and another expedition sent."

There was a growl of approval at this as there had been before when similar ideas were promulgated; but the lieutenant sat in his cabin, and nothing was done.

The lights were burning brightly, and as it was a dead calm the anchor had been let go, so that the cutter should not be swept along the coast by the racing tide. The night had come on very dark since the moon had set, and the watch scanned the surface of the sea in an idle mood, that task being soon done, for there was very little sea visible to scan, and, coming to the conclusion that it was a night when they would be able to watch just as well with their ears, they made themselves comfortable and gazed longingly at the shore.

There was nothing to tempt them there but that it was shore, and they would have preferred being there to loitering on shipboard, though there was not so much as a cottage light to be seen from where they lay.

A large lugger propelled by a dozen sweeps passed them in the darkness, but so silently that they did not hear so much as the splash of an oar, and a drowsy feeling seemed to pervade the whole crew.

"I'll be bound to say if we was to set up a song with a good rattling chorus he'd kick up a row," said Billy Waters, getting up from where he was seated upon the deck, going to the side, and leaning over. "For my part I'd—Hullo! Lookye here, Jack Brown; what do you make of them there lights?"

He pointed as he spoke to a couple of dim stars high up on the cliff and placed diagonally.

"Signal," said the boatswain decidedly.

"For us?" said Tom Tully.

"No," said the gunner; "for some smuggling craft. Beg pardon, your honour," he continued as the lieutenant came forward, "but what do you make o' them there lights?"

The lieutenant had a long look, and then, with a display of energy that was unusual with him, he exclaimed, "It is a signal for boats; there's a landing going on."

His words seemed to electrify everyone on board, and the men watched the lights on shore with intense eagerness, seeing prize-money in them, as they did in every boat sent from the cutter; while, to test the lights ashore as to whether they really formed a signal, or were only an accidental arrangement of a shepherd's lanterns, the lieutenant had the two riding lamps suddenly lowered and covered.

Then there were a few moments of intense excitement, every eye being directed to the dim diagonally-placed stars on the cliff, both of which suddenly disappeared.

"Right," said the lieutenant. "Up with our lights again. That's either Mr Leigh signalling to be fetched off or else there's going to be a cargo run. Man the two boats! Gunner, serve out arms! No pipe, boatswain. Quietly, every man, and muffle the oars!"

The men needed no pipe to call them to their places, for every man was in a state of intense excitement, and ready to execute a kind of war-dance on the deck, till the lieutenant, who had been to fetch his sword and pistols, returned on deck in a dubious state of mind.

"I don't know," he said. "Perhaps it is only a dodge to get us away. Somebody is tricking us; and while we are going one way they'll run a cargo in another direction."

The men dared not murmur, but they grumbled in silence.

"Give up your arms again, my men," said the lieutenant, "and we'll be watchful where we are. I'm tired of being tricked."

The men were unwillingly giving up their weapons when, as Billy Waters put it, the wind veered round again.

"Serve out the arms, my man! Now then, be smart! Tumble into the boats!"

For fear their commander should change his mind again the men did literally tumble into the boats, and, giving the boatswain charge of the vessel and putting the gunner in charge of the smaller boat, the lieutenant descended into the other, gave orders that not a word should be spoken, and they pushed off into the black night.

"When we land," whispered the lieutenant, "two men are to stop in the boats and keep off a dozen or so yards from the shore. No getting them stove-in, or—"

He did not finish his sentence, and in its mutilated form it was passed to the other boat, which was close behind.

For the first part of the distance they rowed pretty swiftly, but when they were about halfway the lieutenant slackened speed, and, after nearly running into them, the second followed the example, and they went softly on.

It seemed to grow darker and darker, and but for the fact that they could hear the wash of the water upon the shore, and see the lights of the cutter, it would have been impossible to tell which way to go. They steered, however, straight for the land, every ear being attent, and the men so anxious to make the present expedition a success that their oars dipped without a sound.

All at once, as it seemed to them, they could hear something above the soft wash of the water that made every man's heart beat, and roused the lieutenant to an intense state of excitement. For, plainly enough, there came from out of the pitchy darkness right ahead the tramp of feet hurrying to and fro across the sands, and there could be only one interpretation of such a sound, namely, the fact that a party of men were unloading a boat.

The lieutenant ordered his men to wait so that the second boat might come up alongside, and then they advanced together in perfect silence, with the keenest-eyed men in the bows, ready to signal by touch if they saw anything ahead.

The sound was still going on upon the beach, and the people were evidently very busy, when, at the same moment, the crews of the two boats caught sight of a large lugger run ashore, and not twenty yards away.

The lieutenant's orders to the gunner were short and sharp.

"Board her on the larboard side; I'll take this! Off; give way, my lads! Close in; out cutlasses and up and have her!"

Softly as his whisper was uttered it was heard upon the lugger by the watchful smugglers. A shrill whistle rang out; there was a rush of feet to get back aboard, and men sprang to their arms.

But the Kestrels were too close in this time. The boats were run one on either side; the crews pulled out their cutlasses and sprang up, racing as to who should be first on board; and after a short sharp struggle the smugglers were beaten down, and the lugger was taken.

"Now, Waters, make sure of the prisoners, and don't trust them below!" cried the lieutenant. "Come, my lads. Crew of the first boat head for the shore."

"Would you like lanterns, sir?" said the gunner.

"What! to show the rascals where to shoot!" said the lieutenant. "No, sir. We could take the lugger in the dark, and now we'll have the rest of the gang and the cargo. Look here, my men," he said, turning to the prisoners, "fifty pounds and a free pardon to the man who will act as guide and show us the way to the place where the lugger's cargo has been placed."

There was no answer.

"Do you hear there, my men? Don't be afraid to speak. Fifty pounds, liberty, and my protection to the man who will act as guide."

Still no answer.

"A hundred pounds, then," said the lieutenant, eagerly.

"Come, be quick; there is no time to lose."

There was not the slightest notice taken of the offer.

"Look here," cried the lieutenant, "I promise you that the man who will tell where the cargo is carried shall be amply protected."

Still no reply.

"Come, come, come!" cried the lieutenant; "who is going to earn this money? There, time is valuable; I'll give two hundred pounds if we capture the rest of the cargo."

"If you'll give me two hundred pounds I'll tell you where it is," said a voice out of the darkness; and a groan and a hiss arose from the prisoners.

"Bravo! my lad," cried the lieutenant. "I give you my word of honour you shall have the two hundred pounds. Now, then; where is it? Which way shall we go? Quick! where is it?"

"Where you and your lot won't never find it," said the man; and there was a tremendous roar of laughter.

"Come, my lads," said the lieutenant angrily, "follow me."

As the men followed him down into the boat another shrill chirruping whistle rang out upon the dark night-air, a whistle which the lieutenant knew well enough to be a warning to the men ashore that there was danger.

"Never mind," he said; "we shall find the bags this time, and with plenty of honey too, my lads. Let's see, who was here last and went up among the rocks?"

"Me, your honour," said Tom Tully. "I can show you the way."

"Come to my side, then," said the lieutenant, leaping ashore. Tom Tully ranged up alongside, and together they hurried over the sand and shingle.

There was no doubt about their being upon the right track, for they stumbled first against a keg, directly after upon a package, then upon another and another, just as the smugglers had thrown them down to race back and defend the lugger; and with these for their guides they made right for the rocks, where, after a little hesitation, Tom Tully led the party through a narrow opening.

"I should know the place, sir," he said, "for I got a hawful polt o' the side of the head somewheres about here; and—ah! this here's right, for there's another little keg o' spirits."

He had kicked against the little vessel, and, to endorse his opinion, he had come upon a small package, which, with the keg, was placed upon a block of rock ready for their return.

But in spite of his recollection of the blows he had received in the struggle amongst the rocks Tom Tully's guidance was not very good. It was horribly dark, and, but for the scuffling noise they kept hearing in front and beyond the chaos of rocks amongst which they were, the lieutenant would have ordered his men back, and tried some other way, or else, in spite of the risks, have waited while some of his men went back for lights.

There was, however, always the noise in front, and partly by climbing and dragging one another up over the rocks they managed to get nearer and nearer without once hitting upon the narrow and comparatively easy but maze-like track that was the regular way, and which was so familiar to the smuggling party that they ran along it and surmounted the various barriers with the greatest ease.

"Come, come, Tully, are you asleep?" cried the lieutenant impatiently; "push on."

"That's just what I am a doing of, your honour," said the great fellow; "but they seem to have been a moving the rocks, and altering the place since we was here last, and its so plaguy dark, too, I don't seem to hit it at all."

"Give way, there, and let another man come to the front," said the lieutenant.

Tom Tully did give way, and another and another tried, but made worse of it, for the big fellow did blunder on somehow, no matter what obstacles presented themselves; and at last, quite in despair, just as the sounds in front were dying right away, almost the last man being up the cliff, the great sailor clambered over a huge block of rock and uttered a shout of joy.

"Here's the place, your honour, here's the place!" he shouted, and the lieutenant and the men scrambled to his side.

"Well," cried the lieutenant, "what have you found? Where are we?"

"We're here, your honour," cried Tom Tully eagerly. "We're all right. Oh lor', look out! what's that 'ere?"

For just at that moment there was the whizz made by a running out rope, a rushing sound, a heavy body came plump on Tom Tully's shoulders, and he was dashed to the ground.



CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR.

ON BOARD ONCE MORE.

There was an attempt at flight on the part of the Kestrels, but there was no room to fly, though the general impression was that the smugglers were about to hurl down pieces of rock upon them from above, but their dread was chased away by a well-known voice exclaiming:

"All right, my lads: I'm not killed."

"But you've 'most killed me," growled Tom Tully.

"Never mind, Tom. You shall have some grog when we get back aboard. Who's in command?"

"I am, sir," exclaimed the lieutenant from somewhere at the back; "and I beg to know what is the meaning of this indecorous proceeding."

"Well, sir," said Hilary, "I was in a hurry to rejoin the ship's company, and I was coming down a rope when some one above cast it off."

"Three cheers for Muster Leigh!" cried a voice.

"Silence!" roared the lieutenant. "Now, Mr Leigh, if you are not joined to the band of rascals show us the way to them."

"There's no way here, sir, unless we bring a long spar and rig up some tackle. The rock's forty feet high, and as straight as a wall. Will you let me speak to you, sir?"

The lieutenant grunted, and Hilary limped to his side.

"Now, Mr Leigh," he said, "I will hear what you have to say; but have the goodness to consider yourself under arrest."

"All right, sir," replied Hilary; "I'm used to that sort of thing now."

"Where have you been, sir?"

"Made prisoner by the smugglers, sir. And now, if you will take my advice, sir, you will draw off the men and secure the lugger. By daylight I can, if we find a way up the cliffs, conduct you to the place they make their rendezvous."

"I repeat, Mr Leigh, that you must consider yourself under arrest," said the lieutenant stiffly. "Your plans may be very good, but I have already made my own."

Hilary said nothing, for he knew his officer of old; and that, while he would profess to ignore everything that had been said, he would follow out the advice to the letter.

And so it proved; for, drawing off the men, they were led down to the boats, the lugger was pushed off, and those of her crew left on board made to handle the sweeps till she was secured alongside of the cutter, where the smugglers to the number of eight were made prisoners below.

The men were in high glee, for it proved next morning that there was still enough of the cargo on board to give them a fair share of prize-money, and there was the hope of securing more of the cargo at the old hall of which Hilary spoke.

"I am quite convinced of the existence of that place, Mr Leigh," said the lieutenant pompously, "and I have been questioning the prisoners about it. If you give your promise not to attempt an escape, I will allow you to accompany the expedition under the command of the gunner, as I shall be obliged to stay on board."

To his intense astonishment, Hilary, who longed to head the party and try to capture the rest of the smuggling crew, drew himself up.

"Thank you, sir, no," he replied; "as I am a prisoner, I will wait until I have been before a court-martial. Shall I go below, sir?"

The lieutenant was speechless for a few moments.

"What, sir? go below, sir? and at a time like this when the ship is shorthanded, and we have eight prisoners to guard? This is worse and worse, Mr Leigh. What am I to think of such conduct?"

"What you please, sir," said Hilary quietly.

"Then, sir, in addition to deserting, which you try to hide by professing to have been made a prisoner, you now mutiny against my orders!"

"Look here, Lieutenant Lipscombe," cried Hilary, who was now in a passion; "if you want me to take command of the expedition, and to lead the men to the smugglers' place, say so like a man. If you do not want me to go, send me below as a prisoner. I'm not going to act under our gunner."

"Mr Leigh," said the lieutenant, "I shall report the whole of your insubordinations in a properly written-out despatch. At present I am compelled to make use of your assistance, so take the gunner and six men."

"Six will not be enough, sir."

"Then take seven," said the lieutenant, impatiently.

"Seven will not be enough, sir," replied Hilary. "I must have at least a dozen."

"Bless my soul, Mr Leigh! hadn't you better take command of the cutter, and supersede me altogether?"

"No, sir; I don't think that would be better," said Hilary.

"I have eight prisoners on board, and they must be well guarded."

"Yes, sir, of course."

"Then I am obliged to have four or five men in the lugger."

"Yes, sir; so under the circumstances I think it will be best to place the eight prisoners in the lugger's boat, and send them ashore."

"What! to join the others?"

"No, sir; I should take care to land them after the expedition party were well on the way."

"Bless me, Mr Leigh! this is beyond bearing. How dare you dictate to me in this way?" cried the lieutenant.

"And," continued Hilary, "I would disable them for a few hours by means of the irons. There are five or six sets on board."

"Ah! yes, yes; but what do you mean?"

"I'd let the gunner rivet them on, sir, joining the men two and two. They could not get them off without a blacksmith; and it would disable them for some hours."

"Well, yes, I had some such an idea as that," replied the lieutenant. "Under the circumstances, Mr Leigh, I will humour you in this."

"Thank you, sir," said Hilary quietly, for he was so much in earnest as to the duty required at this special moment, that he would not let his annoyance keep him back.

"Perhaps, too, you had better take command of the expedition, Mr Leigh. Duty to the king stands first, you know."

"Certainly, sir."

"And, by the way, Mr Leigh, I would certainly change my uniform; for, you will excuse my saying so, you look more like a scarecrow than an officer."

Hilary bowed, and soon after he was inspecting the men detailed for the duty in hand, one and all of whom saluted him with a grin of satisfaction.

"Well, Tom Tully," he said, "how is your shoulder?"

"Feels as if it was shov'd out, sir," growled the big sailor; "but lor' bless your 'art, sir, I don't mind."

"Tom wishes you'd fell on his head, sir," said Billy Waters, laughing; "it's so thick, it wouldn't have hurt him a bit."

"I'll try to manage better next time," said the young officer; "but I had to look sharp to get away the best fashion I could."

"Well, sir, the lads say as they're all werry glad to see you again," continued the gunner; "and they hopes you're going to give them some fun."

"I hope I am," replied Hilary; "but I can't feel sure, for they are slippery fellows we are after, and we may get there to find them gone."

Meanwhile, in accordance with Hilary's advice, which the lieutenant had adopted as his own idea, the cutter was sailing east in search of an opening in the cliff, through which the party could reach the higher ground; and, after going four or five miles, this was found, the party landed, and the cutter then sailed on to get rid of the boatload of prisoners she towed behind, some eight or ten miles farther away.

Hilary felt himself again, as, after he had said a few words to his men, they started off inland, mounting a rugged pathway, and then journeying due north.

It was rather puzzling, and the young officer did not anticipate finding the old hall without some trouble; but he had an idea that it lay to the east of the smugglers' landing-place, as well as some miles inland.

Hilary's first idea was to get upon one of the ridges, from which he hoped to recognise the hills which he had looked upon from his prison. Failing this he meant to search until he did find it, when a happy thought struck him.

He remembered the dam he had seen, and the great plashing water-wheel. There was, of course, the little river, and if he could find that he could track it up to the mill, from whence the old hall would be visible.

The place seemed singularly uncultivated, and it was some time before they came upon a cottage, where an old woman looked at them curiously.

"River? Oh, yes, there's the little river runs down in the hollow," she replied, in answer to Hilary's questions. It was upon his tongue's end to ask the old woman about the hall; but a moment's reflection told him the cottagers anywhere near the sea would be either favourable to the smugglers, or would hold them in such dread that they would be certain to refuse all information. Even then he was not sure that the old woman was not sending them upon a false scent.

This did not, however, prove to be the case, for after a walk of about a couple of miles, through patches of woodland and along dells, where the men seemed as happy as a pack of schoolboys, a ridge was reached, from which the little streamlet could be seen; and making their way down to it, Hilary found that they were on the wrong side, a fact which necessitated wading, though he went over dry-shod, Tom Tully insisting upon carrying him upon his back.

Another couple of miles along the winding course brought them to the mill, where a heavy-looking man stood watching the unwonted appearance of a dozen well-armed sailors; but neither party spoke, and after a bit of a rest for the discussion of a few biscuits, Hilary prepared for his advance to the old hall.

They were just about to start when the heavy-looking man lounged up.

"Going by Rorley Place?" he said.

"Rorley Place?" said Hilary; "where's that?"

"Yon old house," was the reply. "Don't go in; she's harnted!"

"Oh! is she?" said Hilary.

"Ay, that she be," said the man. "She's been empty this hundred year; but you can see the lights shining in the windows of a night, and hear the groans down by the gate and by the little bridge over Rorley stream."

"Thank you," said Hilary, "we'll take care. Now, my lads, forward. Now, Tom Tully, what's the matter?"

"I'm a man as 'll fight any man or any body any day," said the big sailor; "but if we're going again that there place I'm done. I can't abide ghosts and them sort o' things."

"Stuff!" said Hilary. "Forward. Why, what are you thinking about, man? That's where I was shut up night after night."

"And did you see 'em, sir?"

"See what?" replied Hilary.

"Them there as yon chap talked about, sir."

"I saw a good many very substantial smugglers, and I saw a cellar full of kegs and packages, and those are what we are going to get."

Tom Tully seemed a bit reassured, and tightening his belt a little, he kept step with the others, as Hilary led the way right across country, so as to come out of the wood suddenly after a curve, just in front of the entrance to the narrow bridge over the moat.

Hilary managed well, and his men following him in single file, he led them so that, apparently unseen by the occupants of the old hall, they were at last gathered together in the clump of trees, waiting the order to advance.

The moat, as Hilary knew, was too deep to think of wading, and there was the old bridge quite clear, temptingly offering itself as a way to the front of the old house; but this tempting appearance rather repelled the young officer. He was no coward, but he was good leader enough to shrink from subjecting his men to unnecessary risk.

The smugglers would be, under the present circumstances, as desperate as rats in a corner; and as they would certainly expect an attack through his escape, and the events of the past night, it was not likely that they would have neglected to protect the one entrance to their stronghold.

"I say, wot are we awaiting for?" growled Tom Tully.

"Hold your noise!" said Waters; "don't you see the orsifer as leads you thinks there's a trap?"

"Wheer? I don't see no trap. Wot sorter trap?" growled Tom Tully.

"Will yer be quiet, Tommy!" whispered the gunner. "What a chap you are!"

"Yes, ar'n't I?" said the big sailor, taking his messmate's remark as a compliment; and settling himself tailor-fashion upon the ground, he waited until the reconnaissance was over.

For Hilary was scanning the front of the old house most carefully. There was the room in which he had been imprisoned, with the window still open, and the thin white cord swinging gently in the air. There was Adela's room, open-windowed too, and there also was the room where he had seen Sir Henry busy writing, with his child at his knee.

Where were they now? he asked himself, and his heart felt a sudden throb as he thought of the possibility of their being still in the house and in danger.

But he cast the thought away directly, feeling sure that Sir Henry, a proscribed political offender, would not, for his own and his child's sake, run the slightest risk of being taken.

"But suppose he trusts to me, and thinks that I care too much for them to betray their hiding-place?"

His brow turned damp at the thought, and for a moment, as he saw in imagination his old companion Adela looking reproachfully at him for having sent her father to the block, he felt that at all costs he must take the men back.

Then came reaction.

"No," he thought, "I gave Sir Henry fair warning that I must do my duty, and that if we encountered again I should have to arrest him in the king's name. He tried to tempt me to join his party, but I refused, and told him I had my duty to do. He must, I am sure he must, have made his escape, and I shall lead on my men."

He hesitated a moment, and then thought that he was come there to capture smugglers, not political offenders, and that after all he would find a way out of his difficulty; but colouring the next moment, he felt that he must do his duty at all hazards; and he turned to Waters.

"I can see no trace of anything wrong, gunner," he said, "but I feel that those rascals have laid a trap for us. They'll open fire directly we attempt to cross that bridge."

"Then let me and Tom Tully and some one else try it first," said the gunner in reply.

"No, no, Waters; that would never do," said Hilary. "If anyone goes first it must be I. Look all along the bottom windows. Can you see any gun barrels?"

"Not ne'er a one, sir," replied the gunner; "and I ar'n't seen anything but two or three pigeons and an old lame hen since we've come."

"Then they must be lying in wait," said Hilary. "Never mind, it must be done. Here, I shall rush over first with Tom Tully. Then, if all's right, you bring the rest of the men. If I go down, why, you must see if you can do anything to take the place; and if you cannot, you must take the men back."

"Hadn't we better all rush it together, sir?"

"No; certainly not."

"Then hadn't I best go first, sir? I ar'n't so much consequence as you."

"No, Waters, I must go first. I can't send my men to risks I daren't attempt myself. Now then, are you ready, Tully?"

"Ay, ay, sir."

"Let me go first, sir," pleaded the gunner.

"Silence, sir," cried Hilary. "Now, Tully—off."

Cutlass in hand and closely followed by the elephantine seaman, Hilary ran from his place of concealment across the open space to the bridge, and then without a moment's hesitation he bounded across it, and on to the rough, ill-tended patch of grass.

To his intense surprise and delight he got over in safety, and then pausing he held up his sword, and with a cheer Billy Waters raced across with the rest of the men.

"Now, quick, Waters, take half the lads and secure the back—no, take four. Two of you keep the bridge. We must capture them all to a man."

Not a shot was fired. There was no answering cheer. All was as silent as if there had never been a soul there for years, and after carefully scanning the window Hilary went up to the front door and battered it loudly with his sword-hilt.

This knocking he had to repeat twice over before he heard steps, and then a couple of rusty bolts were pushed back, the door was dragged open, and a very venerable old lady stood peering wonderingly in their faces as she screened her eyes with her hand.

"Ye'd better not come in," she said in a loud, harsh voice. "The place is harnted, and it isn't safe."

"Where's Allstone?" cried Hilary as he led his men into the desolate-looking hall.

"Hey?"

"I say where's Allstone, the scoundrel?" shouted Hilary.

"I'm very sorry, but I can't hear a word you say, young man. I've been stone-deaf ever sin' I came to take care o' this house five year ago. It's a terrifying damp place."

"Where are the men?" shouted Hilary with his lips to her ear.

"Men? No, no; I ar'n't feared o' your men," said the old lady. "They won't hurt a poor old crittur like me."

"There, spread out and search the place," said Hilary. "She's as deaf as a post. Whistle for help whoever finds the rascals."

Detaining four men Hilary made his way to the kitchen, and then to the passage by the vault-door and the chapel, to find all wide open; and upon a light being obtained Hilary was about to descend, but, fearing a trap, he left two of his men on guard and went down into the vault, to find it empty. There was some old rubbish and the nets, but that was all. Short as had been the time the smugglers had cleared the place.

He went into the chapel and to Sir Henry and Adela's rooms, to find the old furniture there, but that was all; and at the end of a good half-hour's search the party of sailors stood together in the hall, with the deaf old woman staring at them and they staring at each other, waiting their officer's commands.

"Ar'n't there not going to be no fight?" growled Tom Tully.

Evidently not; and after another search Hilary would have felt ready to declare that there had not been a soul there for months, and that he had dreamed about his escape, if the white cord had not still hung from the window.

Further investigation proving to be vain, for they could get nothing out of the deaf old woman, and a short excursion in the neighbourhood producing nothing but shakes of the head, Hilary had to lead his men back to the shore, where they arrived at last, regularly tired out and their commander dispirited. All the same, though, he could not help feeling glad at heart as he signalled to the cutter for a boat, that Sir Henry and his daughter were safe from seizure, for had he been bound to take them prisoners he felt as if he could have known no peace.

But Hilary had no time to give to such thoughts as these, for a boat was coming from the cutter, and in a very short time he knew that he would have to face the lieutenant and give his account of the unsuccessful nature of his quest; and as he thought of this he began to ask himself whether the injuries his commander had received at different times had not something to do with the eccentricity and awkwardness of his behaviour.

Hilary was still thinking this when he climbed to the deck of the cutter and saluted his officer with the customary "Come on board."



CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE.

A RISKY WATCH.

Lieutenant Lipscombe was so dissatisfied with the result of Hilary's expedition that he landed himself the next day with a party of the Kestrels and went over and searched the old hall.

From thence he followed the lane down to the cliffs, where, as Billy Waters afterwards told Hilary, they found the place where the smugglers had been in the habit of landing their goods, and the cottage he had described. But the people seemed stupid and ignorant, professing to know nothing, and it was not until after a search that the rope was found with the tackle and block lying amongst some stunted bushes; and by means of this tackle the party descended, afterwards signalling to the cutter and getting on board.

The next thing was to take the prize into port and report to the superior officer what had been done, when orders were at once received to put out to sea and watch the coast.

For the emissaries of the Pretender had, it seemed, been busy at work, and there were rumours of risings and landings of men from France. In spite of the watchfulness of the various war-vessels on the coast messengers seemed to come and go with impunity. So angry were the authorities that, instead of the lieutenant receiving praise for what he had done, he only obtained a severe snubbing. He was told that the capture of a lugger with some contraband cargo was nothing to the taking of the political emissaries. These, it seemed, he had allowed to slip through his fingers, and he returned on board with his sailing orders, furious with the treatment he had received.

"Look here, Mr Leigh," he said sternly; "out of consideration for your youth I refrained from reporting your late desertion."

"I was taken prisoner, sir."

"Well, there, call it taken prisoner if you like," said the lieutenant impatiently. "I say I did not report it; but I consider that you are to blame for our late ill success."

"Thank you, sir," said Hilary in an undertone.

"It seems," continued the lieutenant, "that there is a Sir Henry Norland who comes and goes with fishermen and smugglers, and I am as certain as can be that we had him once on board that fishing lugger when you were stupid enough to let him go; I mean that ill-looking scoundrel with the girl. There, there; it is of no use for you to try and defend yourself. You were in fault, and the only way for you to amend your failing is by placing this man in my hands."

"But really, sir—" began Hilary.

"Go to your duty, sir!" exclaimed the lieutenant sternly; and, biting his lips as he felt how awkwardly he was situated, Hilary went forward, and soon after the cutter was skimming over the waves with a brisk breeze abeam.

Time glided on, with the young officer fully determined to do his duty if he should again have an opportunity of arresting the emissary of the would-be king; but somehow it seemed as if the opportunity was never to come. They cruised here and they cruised there, with the usual vicissitudes of storm and sunshine. Fishing-boats were rigorously overhauled, great merchant ships bidden to heave-to while a boat was sent on board, but no capture was made.

They put into port over and over again, always to hear the same news— that the young Pretender's emissaries were as busy as ever, and that they came and went with impunity, but how no one could say.

The lieutenant always returned on board, after going ashore to see the port-admiral, in a furious temper, and his junior and the crew found this to their cost.

Days and nights of cruising without avail. It seemed as if the Kestrel was watched out of sight, and then, with the coast clear, the followers of the young Pretender's fortunes landed in England with impunity. Hilary heard from time to time that Sir Henry had grown more daring, and had had two or three narrow escapes from being taken ashore, but he had always been too clever for his pursuers, and had got away.

Of Adela he had heard nothing, and he frequently hoped that she was safe with some of their friends, and not leading a fugitive life with her father.

It was on a gloomy night in November that the Kestrel was well out in mid-channel on the lookout for a small vessel, of whose coming they had been warned by a message received the day before from the admiral.

A bright lookout was being kept, in spite of the feeling that it might be, after all, only a false scent, and that while they were seeking in one direction the enemy might make their way to the shore in another.

There was nothing for it but to watch, in the hope that this time they might be right, and all that afternoon and evening the cutter had been as it were disguised. Her sails had been allowed to hang loosely, her customary smartness was hidden, and the carpenter had been over the bows with a pot of white paint, and painted big letters and a couple of figures on each side, to give the Kestrel the appearance of a fishing-boat. This done, the jollyboat was allowed to swing by her painter behind, and thus they waited for night.

As the darkness came on, in place of hoisting the lights they were kept under shelter of the bulwarks, and then, in spite of the preparations, Hilary saw and said that their work would be in vain, for the night would be too dark for them to see anything unless it came within a cable's length.

It was not likely; and the young officer, as he leaned over the side, after some hours' watching, talking in a low voice to the gunner, who was with him, began to think how pleasant it would be to follow the lieutenant's example and go below and have a good sleep, when he suddenly started.

"What's that, Billy?" he whispered.

"Don't hear nothing, sir," said the gunner. "Yes, I do. It's a ship of some kind, and not very far-off. I can hear the water under her bows."

"Far-off?—no. Look!" cried Hilary, in a hoarse whisper. "Down with the helm! hard down!" he cried. "Hoist a light!"

But as he gave the orders he felt that they were in vain, for they had so well chosen their place to intercept the French vessel they hoped to meet, that it was coming, as it were, out of a bank of darkness not fifty yards away; and in another minute Hilary, as he saw the size and the cloud of sail, knew that the Kestrel would be either cut down to the water's edge or sunk by the coming craft.



CHAPTER THIRTY SIX.

WITHOUT LIGHTS.

In those moments of peril Hilary hardly knew how it all happened, but fortunately the men with him were men-of-war's men, and accustomed to prompt obedience. The helm was put down hard as the strange vessel came swiftly on, seeming to the young officer like his fate, and in an instant his instinct of self-preservation suggested to him that he had better run forward, and, as the stranger struck the Kestrel, leap from the low bulwark and catch at one of the stays. His activity, he knew, would do the rest.

Then discipline set in and reminded him that he was in charge of the deck, and that his duty was to think of the safety of his men and the cutter—last of all, of himself.

The stranger showed no lights, a suspicious fact which Hilary afterwards recalled, and she came on as the cutter rapidly answered her helm, seeming at first as if she would go right over the little sloop of war, but when the collision came, so well had the Kestrel swerved aside, the stranger's bowsprit went between jib and staysail, and struck the cutter just behind the figurehead.

There was a grinding crash, a loud yell from the oncoming vessel; the Kestrel went over almost on her beam-ends, and then the stranger scraped on by her bows, carrying away bowsprit, jibboom, and the sails.

"Chien de fool Jean Bool, fish, dog!" roared a voice from the side of the large schooner, for such Hilary could now see it was. "Vat for you no hoist light? I run you down."

"Hoist your own lights, you French idiot!" shouted back Hilary between his hands. "Ahoy, there! heave-to!"

There was a good deal of shouting and confusion on board the schooner, which went on several hundred yards before her way was stopped; but before this Hilary had ordered out the two boats; for there was no need to hail the men below, with "All hands on deck!"

The men came tumbling up in the lightest of costumes, one of the foremost being the lieutenant, with his nether garments in one hand, his cocked hat in the other.

"Quick!" he shouted. "Into the boats before she goes down!"

"No, no, sir!" cried Hilary excitedly. "Let's see the mischief first. Is she making water, carpenter?"

"Can't see as she is," replied that worthy. "We've lost the bowsprit and figurehead, and there's some planks started; but I think we shall float."

"Of course; yes," cried Lieutenant Lipscombe. "Back from those boats, men! I'll blow the brains out of the mutinous dog who dares to enter first. Discipline must be maintained. Here, Waters, let me lean against you."

"Ay, ay, sir!" said the gunner; and the lieutenant proceeded to insert his legs in the portion of his uniform intended to keep his lower man warm.

"Now, Mr Leigh," he shouted, as he stamped upon the deck with his bare feet; "what have you to say to this?"

"Regular wreck forward, sir," replied Hilary, who had been examining the extent of the mischief.

"My fate for leaving you in charge," cried the lieutenant. "Where was the lookout?"

"Two boats coming from the schooner, sir," said Tom Tully. "They've got lanterns, and they're full of men."

"Then it's the vessel we were looking for," cried Hilary. "Quick, sir, give orders, or they'll board and take us before we can stir."

"Mr Leigh," said the lieutenant, with dignity, "I command this ship."

He walked slowly to the side, and peered at the coming boats, while Hilary stood fretting and fuming at his side. There was, however, something so ominous in the look of the boats, dimly-seen though they were through the murky night, that the lieutenant did give orders, and cutlasses and boarding-pikes were seized, the men then clustering about their officers.

"She ar'n't making a drop o' water," said the carpenter just then—an announcement which seemed to put heart into the crew, who now watched the coming of the boats.

"Hey! Hoop!" shouted a voice. "What sheeps is that? Are you sink?"

"May I answer, sir?" whispered Hilary.

"Yes, Mr Leigh; and be quick."

"Ahoy! What ship's that?" cried Hilary.

There was no response, only a buzz of conversation reached their ears, and the boats came rapidly on, the occupants of the Kestrel's deck seeing that they separated and changed position, so as to board on each bow, for the cutter now lay with her sail flapping, like a log upon the water.

"She's an enemy, sir," whispered Hilary; and he did not alter his opinion as the boats neared.

"All raight. We come take you off, sailor boy," cried the same voice that had hailed. "You shall be safe before you vill sink you sheep."

The lieutenant seemed to have come to himself, and to be a little more matter-of-fact and sane in his actions, for he now ordered Waters to load the long gun, and the gunner eagerly slipped away.

"There, that will do," cried the lieutenant now. "We are not sinking. What ship's that?"

The boats stopped for a moment, and there was again a whispering on board; but the next instant they came on.

"Stop there, or I'll sink you!" cried the lieutenant. But the boats now dashed on, and it was evidently a case of fighting and beating them off.

Every man grasped his weapon, and a thrill of excitement ran through Hilary as he felt that he was really about to engage in what might be a serious fight. Fortunately for the crew of the Kestrel, both of the boats were not able to board at once, for that on the larboard bow was driven right into the wreck of the jibboom and sail, which, with the attendant cordage, proved to be sufficient to hamper their progress for the time being, while the other boat dashed alongside with a French cheer, and, sword in hand, the crew swarmed over on to the deck.

It was bravely done; and, had they met with a less stout resistance, the Kestrel would have been captured. But, as it was, they had Englishmen to deal with, and Hilary and about ten of the crew met them bravely, Hilary going down, though, from the first blow—one from a boarding-pike. This, however, so enraged the Kestrels that they beat back the attacking party, cutting down several and literally hurling others over into their boat, which hauled off, not liking its reception.

Meanwhile, after a struggle, the crew of the other boat got itself clear of the tangle, and came on to the attack, to find themselves, after a sharp struggle, repulsed by the lieutenant and his party, the leader fighting bravely and well.

It was evident that the commander of the schooner had realised the character of the vessel with which he had been in collision, and had hoped to make an easy capture of her, if she did not prove to be in a sinking state. If she were, motives of humanity had prompted him to take off the crew, if they needed help. The task, however, had proved more severe than he anticipated, and the two boats were now together, with their leaders evidently in consultation.

The next minute an order was evidently given, and the boats turned, separated, and began to row back.

The schooner could only be made out now by a light she had hoisted; but this was quite sufficient for Billy Waters, who stood ready by his gun waiting for orders. Possibly he might have hit and sunk one of the boats, but the lieutenant did not seem to wish for this, but began giving his orders with unwonted energy, trying to make sail upon the Kestrel, which lay there upon the water, with one of her wings, as it were, so crippled that he found it would take quite half an hour before she could be cleared.

"It's of no use, Mr Leigh," he cried excitedly. "I wanted to board and take this schooner, and we cannot get alongside. Take charge of the gun, sir, and try and bring down one of her spars. Let's cripple her too. I'll order out the boats to board her."

"Ay, ay, sir," said Hilary, delighted at the energy shown by his chief. "Now, Billy Waters, send a shot through her mainmast. I'd aim straight at her light."

"Which on 'em, sir?" said the gunner drily.

"Why, that one! There's only one," cried Hilary sharply.

"Look alive! and—ah—how provoking, the light's out!"

"Ay, sir, they've dowsed their light now the boats know where to go, and it would be only waste o' good powder and round shot to go plumping 'em into that there bank o' blackness out yonder."

"Well, Mr Leigh, why don't you fire?" shouted the lieutenant.

"Beg pardon, sir, but there's nothing to fire at," replied Hilary.

"Fire at the schooner's light, sir,—fire at her light," cried the lieutenant indignantly. "Bless my soul, Mr Leigh," he said, bustling up. "Here, let me lay the gun, and—eh?—what?—the light out?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then why, in the name of common sense, Mr Leigh, didn't you fire before it went out?"

"Didn't get no orders," growled Billy Waters.

"Silence, sir; how dare you speak!" cried the lieutenant. "But are you sure the light's out, Mr Leigh?"

"There isn't a sign of it, sir."

"Then—then how are we to manage about the boats?"

There was a momentary silence, during which, as the men stood ready to man the two boats that had been lowered, the lieutenant and his junior tried to make out where the schooner lay, but on every side, as the Kestrel lay softly rolling in the trough of the sea, a thick bank of darkness seemed to be closing them in, and pursuit of the schooner by boats would have been as mad a venture as could have been set upon by the officer of a ship.



CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN.

REPAIRING DAMAGES.

During the excitement, the bustle of the attack, the lieutenant had seemed more himself, and he had given his orders in a concise and businesslike way; but now that they were left to themselves all seemed changed, and he reverted to his former childish temper, turning angrily upon Hilary as the cause of all his misfortunes.

"Never in the whole career of the English navy," he cried, stamping his bare foot upon the deck, "was officer plagued with a more helpless, blundering junior than I am. Bless my heart! it is very cold, and I've no coat on. Mr Leigh, fetch my coat and waistcoat."

"Yes," he continued, as he put on the two garments, "as I said before, never was officer plagued with a more helpless, blundering, mischievous junior."

"Very sorry, sir. I do my best," said Hilary bluntly.

"Exactly, sir. You do your best," said the lieutenant; "and your best is to lay the Kestrel—His Majesty's ship Kestrel—right in the track of that French schooner, and but for my fortunate arrival upon deck we should have been sunk."

Hilary recalled the fact that he had ordered the helm hard down, and saved the vessel himself, but he did not say so.

"I'll be bound to say," continued the lieutenant, "that you were sailing slowly along without a light."

"Yes, sir, we had no light hoisted," said Hilary, who, in spite of his annoyance, could not help feeling amused.

"Exactly. Just what I expected," continued the lieutenant. "Then pray, sir, why, upon a dark night like this, was there no light?"

"My superior officer gave me orders, sir, that we were to keep a sharp lookout for French boats cruising the channel, and burn no light."

"Hah! Yes, I think I did give some such orders, sir, but how was I to know that it would turn out so dark, eh, sir? How was I to know it would turn out so dark?"

"It was very dark, sir, certainly," said Hilary.

"Yes, atrociously dark. And I distinctly told you to keep a sharp lookout."

"Yes, sir, and we did."

"It looks like it, Mr Leigh," said the lieutenant, pointing forward. "Bowsprit gone, and all the forward bulwarks, leaving us helpless on the water, and you say you kept a good lookout. Mr Leigh, sir, you will be turned out of the service."

"I hope not, sir. I think I saved the ship."

"Saved? saved? Good gracious me, Mr Leigh," said the lieutenant, bursting out laughing; "what madness! Here, Waters—Tully—do you hear this?"

"Ay, ay, your honour."

"And what do you think of it?"

"As we'd all have gone to the bottom, sir, if it hadn't been for Mr Leigh here," said Waters, pulling his forelock.

"Oh!" said the lieutenant sharply; "and pray what do you think, Tully; and you, bo'sun?"

"Think just the same as Billy Waters, your honour," said the boatswain.

"And that 'ere's just the same with me," growled Tom Tully, kicking out a leg behind. "He's a won'ful smart orsifer Muster Leigh is, your honour; and that's so."

"Silence, sir! How dare you speak like that?" cried the lieutenant furiously. "Now, Mr Leigh," he added sarcastically, "if you will condescend to assist, there is a good deal to see to, for the forepart of His Majesty's ship Kestrel is a complete wreck from your neglect. I am going below to finish dressing, but I shall be back directly."

Hilary returned his officer's sarcastic bow, and then gave a stamp on the deck.

"Which I don't wonder at it, your honour," said Tom Tully, in his low deep growl: "I ain't said not nowt to my messmates, but I'll answer for it as they'll all be willing."

"Willing? willing for what?" cried Hilary.

"Shove the skipper into the dinghy with two days' provision and water, sir, and let him make the shore, if you'll take command of the little Kestrel."

"Why, you mutinous rascal," cried Hilary. "How dare you make such a proposal to me? Hold your tongue, and go forward, Tom Tully. Duty on board is to obey your superiors, and if they happen to be just a little bit unreasonable, you must not complain."

"All right, your honour," said Tom Tully, giving his loose breeches a hitch; "but if the skipper was to talk to me like he do to you—"

"Well, sir, what?"

"I'd—I'd—I'd—"

Tom Tully had taken out his tobacco-box, and opened his jack-knife, with which he viciously cut off a bit of twist, exclaiming:

"That I would!"

He said no more, but it seemed probable that he meant cut off his commander's head; and he then rolled forward to help the carpenter, and the whole strength of the crew, whom the first rays of a dull grey morning found still at work hauling in the tangle of spar and rope; and soon after, a stay having been secured to the wreck of the cutwater, a staysail was hoisted, and the cutter pretty well answered her helm.

Hilary felt less disposed to take the lieutenant's words to heart, for he knew that if he were charged with neglect of duty the evidence of the men would be quite sufficient to clear him; so, after turning the matter over and over in his mind, he had cheerily set to work to try and get the cutter in decent trim, and, as the morning broke, crippled as she was in her fair proportions, she sailed well enough to have warranted the lieutenant in making an attack, should the schooner have come in sight.

But there was no such good fortune. Both the lieutenant and he swept the horizon and the cliff-bound coast with their glasses, and the Kestrel was sailed along close inshore in the hope that the enemy might be seen sheltered in some cove, or the mouth of one of the little rivers; but there was no result, and at last, very unwillingly, the cutter's head was laid for Portsmouth, and the lieutenant went below to prepare his despatch.

"How long shall we be refitting, carpenter?" asked Hilary, after a long examination of the damages they had received, and a thorough awakening to the fact that if it had not been for that turn of the helm they must have been struck amidships, and sent to the bottom.

"All a month, sir," said the carpenter. "There'll be a deal to do, and if we get out of the shipwright's hands and to sea in five weeks I'll say we've done well."

It was galling, for it meant four or five weeks of inaction, just at a time when Hilary was getting intensely interested in the political question of the day, and eagerly looking forward for a chance of distinguishing himself in some way.

"Who knows," he said to himself, "but that schooner may have borne the Young Pretender and his officers to the English coast. If it did I just lost a chance of taking him."

Ah! he thought, if he could have taken the young prince with his own hand. It would have been glorious, and he could have shown Sir Henry that he was on the way to honour and distinction without turning traitor to his king.

And so he went on hour after hour building castles in the air, but with little chance of raising up one that would prove solid, till they passed by the eastern end of the Isle of Wight, went right up the harbour, and the lieutenant had a boat manned and went ashore to make his report to the admiral.

To Hilary's great disgust he found that he was not to go ashore, but to remain in charge of the cutter during the repairs, for the lieutenant announced his intention of himself remaining in the town.

But Hilary had one satisfaction—that of finding that the lieutenant had made no report concerning his conduct on the night of the collision. In fact, the lieutenant had forgotten his mad words almost as soon as he had spoken them, for they were only the outcomings of his petty malicious spirit for the time being.



CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT.

OFF HIS GUARD.

The carpenter's four weeks extended to five, then to six, and seven had glided away before the cutter was pretty well ready for sea. Urgent orders had been given that her repairs were to be hastened, and the crew was kept in readiness to proceed to sea at once, but still the dockyard artificers clung to their job in the most affectionate manner. There was always a bit more caulking to do, a little more paint to put on, new ropes to reeve; and when at last she seemed quite ready, an overlooker declared that she would not be fit to go to sea until there had been a thorough examination of the keel.

It was during these last few days that Hilary found a chance of going ashore, and gladly availed himself of his liberty, having a good run round Portsmouth, a look at the fortifications; and finally, the weather being crisp, sunshiny, and the ground hard with frost, he determined to have a sharp walk inland for a change.

"I declare," he cried, as he had a good run in the brisk wintry air, "it does one good after being prisoned in that bit of a cutter."

He had been so much on board of late that he experienced a hearty pleasure in being out and away from the town in the free country air. The frost was keen, and it seemed to make his blood tingle in his veins. He set off running again and again, just pausing to take breath, and it was only when he was some miles away from the port and the evening was closing in that he began to think it was time to turn back.

As he did so he saw that three sailors who had been for some time past going the same way were still a short distance off, and as he passed them it seemed to him that they had been indulging themselves, as sailors will when ashore for a holiday.

"What cheer, messmate!" said one of them in his bluff, frank way. "Is this the way to London?"

"No, my lad; you're on the wrong road. You must go back three miles or so, and then turn off to the right."

"I told you so, Joe," the man exclaimed in an injured tone. "What's the good o' trusting to a chap like you? Here, come along and let's get back."

"I sha'n't go back," said the one addressed; "shall you, Jemmy?"

"Not I," said the other. "Can't us get to London this way, captain?"

"Yes," said Hilary laughing; "if you go straight on, but you'll have to go all round the world first."

"There!" cried the one addressed as Jemmy; "I told you so, matey. Come along."

"Don't be a fool," said the first sailor. "Lay holt of his arm, Joe, and let's get him back; it'll be dark afore long."

Hilary could not help feeling amused at the men; but as he trudged on back towards Portsmouth he saw that they were trying to make up for lost ground, and were following him pretty quickly.

Once they made such good use of their legs that they got before him; then Hilary walked a little faster and passed them, and so on during the next two miles they passed and repassed each other, the sailors saying a cheery word or two and laughing as they went by. But soon this was at an end; they seemed to grow tired, and during the next mile it had grown dark, and the sailors walked on one side of the road, Hilary on the other.

At last the sailors seemed to have made up their minds to get right away from him, walking on rapidly, till all at once Hilary heard voices talking loudly, and as he came nearer he could distinguish what was said.

"Come on. Come, Jem, get up."

"I want a glass," growled another voice.

"Never mind. Wait till we get on the London road," cried the man who had been addressed as Joe.

"I want a glass," growled the man again; and as Hilary came close up he saw that one of the men was seated in the path just in front of a roadside cottage, and that his two companions were kicking and shaking him to make him rise.

"I say, your honour," said one of the men, crossing to Hilary, "you're an officer, ar'n't you?"

"Yes, my man."

"Just come and order him to get up, quarterdeck fashion, sir, and I'd be obleeged to you. He won't mind us; but if you, an officer, comes and orders him up, he'll mind what you say. We want to get to the next town to-night."

Hilary hesitated for a moment, feeling loath to trouble himself about the stupid, drunken sailor, but his good nature prevailed and he crossed the road.

"Here, my lad," he said sharply, "get up directly."

"Going to turn in!" said the fellow sleepily.

"No, no. Nonsense," cried Hilary, giving him a touch with his foot. "Get up and walk on."

"Sha'n't," said the man. "Going to sleep, I tell you."

"Lookye here, Jemmy," said the sailor who had first spoken, "you'll get your back scratched, you will, if you don't get up when you're told. This here's a officer."

"Not he," grumbled the man sleepily. "He ar'n't no officer, I know. Going to sleep, I tell you."

"Get up, sir," cried Hilary sharply. "I am an officer."

"Bah! get out. Only officer of a merchant ship. You ar'n't no reg'lar officer."

"If you don't get up directly, you dog, I'll have the marines sent after you," cried Hilary.

The man sat up and stared.

"I say," he said, "you ar'n't king's officer, are you?"

"Yes, sir, I am."

"What ship?"

"The Kestrel."

"Oh, that's it, is it?" he grumbled. "Beg your honour's pardon. I'll get up. Give's your hand."

Half-laughing and at the same time proud of the power his rank gave him, Hilary held out his hands to the man, who took them tightly and was in the act of drawing himself up, when the young officer felt himself seized from behind and held, as it were, in a vice. Just at the same moment the door of the cottage was opened, there was a bright light shone out, and before he could realise his position he was forced into the place, and awoke to the fact, as the door was banged to, that he had fallen into a trap.

"You scoundrels!" he cried furiously; "do you want to rob me?" And he saw that he was in the presence of half a dozen more men.

"Silence, sir!" cried an authoritative voice. "Stand back, my lads. It was very cleverly done."

"Cleverly done!" cried Hilary. "What do you mean, sir? I desire you let me go. Are you aware that I am a king's officer?"

"Yes, I heard you announce it, and you are the man we have been looking after for days," said the one who seemed to be in authority; and by the light of a bright wood fire Hilary could make out that he was a tall, dark man in a long boat-cloak, which he had thrown back from his breast.

"Then I advise you to set me free directly," said Hilary.

"Yes, we shall do that when we have done," said the leader, from whom all the others stood away in respect; and as the light burned up the speaker took off his cocked hat, and Hilary saw that he was a singularly handsome man of about forty.

"When you have done!" cried Hilary. "What do you mean?"

"Be silent and answer my questions, my good lad," said the other. "You are the young officer of the Kestrel, and your name is Hilary Leigh, I believe?"

"Yes, that is my name," cried Hilary sharply. "By what right do you have me seized?"

"The right of might," said the man. "Now look here, sir. Your vessel is now seaworthy, and to-morrow you will get your sailing orders."

"How do you know?" cried Hilary.

"Never mind how I know. I tell you the fact, my good lad. You will be despatched to watch the port of Dunquerque, to stop the boat that is supposed to come to land from this coast on the king's business."

"I suppose you mean the Pretender's business," cried Hilary quickly.

"I mean His Majesty Charles Edward," said the man, "to whom I wish you to take these papers." And he pulled a packet from his pocket.

"I? Take papers? What do you suppose I am?"

"One who will obey my orders," said the man haughtily, "and who will never be able to play fast and loose with his employers; for if he were false, no matter where he hid himself, he would be punished."

"And suppose I refuse to take your papers and become a traitor?" said Hilary.

"I shall make you," said the stranger. "I tell you that the voyage of your cutter suits our convenience, and that you will have to take these papers, for which service you will be amply rewarded."

"Then I do refuse," said Hilary firmly.

"No; don't refuse yet," said the stranger with a peculiar look in his countenance. "The despatches must be taken. Think of the proposal, my good lad, and then reply."

As he spoke Hilary saw him take a pistol from his breast-pocket, and, if physiognomy was any index of the mind, Hilary saw plainly enough that if he refused to obey this man's orders he would have no compunction in shooting him like a dog.



CHAPTER THIRTY NINE.

CAPTAIN CHARTERIS.

Hilary felt the cold perspiration breaking out on his face, as he thought of the loneliness of the spot where he was, and of his helplessness here in the hands of these desperate men, who were ready to brave all for their cause. He saw now that he had been watched almost from the outset, and that he had been marked as one likely to carry out their designs. Perhaps, he thought, Sir Henry had had something to do with the seizure; but he gave up the idea directly, giving his old friend credit for too much honourable feeling towards him to have him trapped in so cowardly a manner.

These thoughts came quickly as he stood watching the leader of the party by whom he was surrounded—men who were ready at the slightest movement to spring upon him, and secure him, should he attempt to escape.

"I suppose," said Hilary's questioner, "you know what I am?" and he looked at the young officer sternly.

"Personally, no," replied Hilary, boldly; "but your behaviour shows me that you are traitors to the king."

"No, sir," cried the other fiercely; "we are faithful followers of the king, and enemies of the German hound."

"How dare you speak like that of His Majesty!" cried Hilary quite as fiercely; and he took a couple of steps forward, but only to find himself seized and dragged back.

"Hold the young rascal tightly," said the officer.

"Yes, hold me tightly," cried Hilary, "you cowards!"

"I am having you held tightly for your own sake," said the officer, taking up and playing with a large pistol he had laid on the table before him. "I should be sorry to have to shoot so distinguished a follower of Hanoverian George."

Hilary bit his lip and remained silent. It was of no use to speak, of less account to struggle, and he stood facing his captors without flinching.

"Now," continued the leader, "as you have got rid of your little burst of passion, perhaps you will be reasonable. Listen to me, young man. Your position as second officer on board that despatch cutter will bring you frequently to both sides of the Channel, so that you will have ample opportunities for carrying messages for us without risk, and,"—he paused here, watching the young man intently—"greatly to your own profit. Do you hear?"

"Yes," said Hilary shortly.

"We shall not have merely one despatch for you to take, to be paid for with so many guineas, my lad, but there will be a regular correspondence carried on, and you will make from it a handsome sum, for we recompense liberally; something different to your munificent pay as officer of the Kestrel."

Hilary still remained silent, and his tempter pulled a bag of coin from his pocket and threw it heavily upon the table.

"Of course the task is rather a risky one, and deserves to be paid for generously. That I am ready to do. In fact, you may name your own price, and anything in reason will be granted. At the same time I warn you that we shall put up with no trifling, and I may as well say that it is impossible to escape us. We have emissaries everywhere, whose duty it is to reward or punish as the case may require. Come, I see you are growing reasonable."

"Oh, yes! I am quite reasonable," said Hilary smiling.

"That's well," said the officer; "cast him loose, my lads, and stand more aside. Now, Mr Hilary Leigh," he said, as his orders were obeyed, "I am glad to find so dashing and brave a young fellow as you finds himself ready to join the good cause. I ask you to swear no oaths of fidelity. I shall merely give you this despatch and a handful of gold coin, and you will bring the answer here at your earliest opportunity."

"And suppose I refuse?" said Hilary.

"Refuse? Oh, you will not refuse," said the officer banteringly. "It would be a pity to rob Hanoverian George of so brave and promising a young officer."

"What do you mean," said Hilary.

"Oh nothing—nothing," said the other coolly. "We might, perhaps, think it necessary, as you know so much, to shoot you."

"Shoot me!" cried Hilary.

"Y-e-es; you see you know a good deal, my young friend, but we should bury you decently. You broke up the rendezvous at Rorley Place, and spoiled the smuggler's landing, did you not?"

"I did," said Hilary boldly.

"Yes. And you were kept a prisoner there, were you not?"

"I was."

"And escaped and made signals with the smuggler's lanterns to bring down the cutter's crew upon the party, did you not?"

"I did. It was my duty."

"Yes, you thought it was, my good lad. Let me see, you nearly captured Sir Henry Norland, too, did you not?"

"I should have taken him if he had been there," replied Hilary; "but I was glad he was not."

"Why?"

"Because he was an old friend."

"Let me see," continued the officer; "Sir Henry asked you to join us, did he not?"

"Several times," said Hilary quietly.

"Ah, yes! I suppose he would. Came to see you when you were a prisoner, I suppose?"

"He did."

"But he is not a good diplomat, Sir Henry Norland. By the way, what did he offer you?"

"The captaincy of a man-of-war."

"Young as you were?"

"Young as I am."

"But that was in prospective. Hard gold coin is much more satisfactory, Mr Hilary Leigh," said the officer, pouring out some bright golden guineas upon the table. "Of course you thought that Charles Edward might not come to the throne, and that you would never get your—get your—"

"Traitor's pay," said Hilary sharply, finishing the sentence.

"Don't call things by hard names, young man," said the officer sternly. "And let me tell you that I know for a certainty that your position in Hanoverian George's service is a very precarious one. Strange things have been told of you."

"Very likely," said Hilary coldly.

"I believe your officer has reported upon your conduct."

"I can't help that," said Hilary coldly. "I have always served his majesty faithfully and well."

"Even to taking pay from the other side?" said the officer with a mocking smile.

"It is a lie," cried Hilary angrily; "I never tampered with my duty to the king."

"Till now," said the officer laughing. "There, there, there, my lad, I'm not going to quarrel with you, and we will not use high-sounding phrases about loyalty, and fealty, and duty, and the like. There, I am glad to welcome you to our side. There are a hundred guineas in that bag. Take them, but spend them sensibly, or you will be suspected. If I were you I would save them, and those that are to come. Here is your despatch, and you will see the address at Dunquerque. Be faithful and vigilant and careful. There, take them and go your way. No one will be a bit the wiser for what you have done, and when you return to port bring your answer here, and give it to anyone you see. One word more: do not trust your lieutenant. I don't think he means well by you."

"I know that," said Hilary scornfully.

"Never mind," said the officer; "some day, when we are in power, we will find you a brave ship to command for your good services to Charles Edward. But there, time presses; you must get back to your ship. Here!"

He held out the bag of gold coin and the despatch, and he smiled meaningly as Hilary took them, one in each hand, and stood gazing full in the officer's face.

There was a dead silence in the room, and the dancing flames lit up strangely the figures of the tall well-knit man and the slight boyish figure, while, half in shadow, the sailors stood with all the intentness of disciplined men, watching what was going on.

"Look here, sir," said Hilary, speaking firmly, "if I did this thing, even if you came into power—which you never will—you would not find me a captain's commission, but would treat me as such a traitor deserved. There are your dirty guineas," he cried, dashing the bag upon the table, so that the coins flew jingling all over the room; "and there is your traitorous despatch," he continued, tearing it in half, and flinging it in the officer's face. "I am an officer of his majesty. God save the king!" he shouted. "Now, shoot me if you dare."

He gave one sharp glance round for a way of escape, but there was none. A dozen men stood there like statues, evidently too well disciplined to move till the appointed time. Doors and windows were well guarded, and with such odds Hilary knew that it would be but a wretched struggle without avail. Better, he thought, maintain his dignity. And he did, as he saw the officer pick up the pistol from the table and point it at his head.

A momentary sensation of horror appalled Hilary, and he felt the blood rush to his heart, but he did not flinch.

"I am a king's officer," he thought, "and I have done my duty in the king's name. Heaven give me strength, lad as I am, to die like a man!"

He looked then straight at the pistol barrel without flinching for a few moments. Then his eyes closed, and he who held the weapon saw the young man's lips move softly, as if in prayer, and he dashed the pistol down.

"There, my lads!" he cried aloud to the men, "if ever you see a Frenchman stand fire like that you may tell me if you will. Hilary Leigh," he cried, laying his hands smartly on the young man's shoulders, "you make me proud to be an Englishman, and in a service that can show such stuff as you. Here, give me your hand."

"No," cried Hilary hoarsely. "Stand off, sir; cajolery will not do your work any more than threats."

"Hang the work, my lad," cried the other. "It was rather dirty work, but we want to know our men in times like these. Give me your hand, my boy, I am no traitor, I am Captain Charteris, of the Ruby, and I have had to try your faith and loyalty to the king. Here, my men, you did your work well. Pick up those guineas; there should be a hundred of them. You may keep back five guineas to drink his majesty's health. Bo'sun, you can bring the rest on to me."

"Ay, ay, sir," said a thickset dark man, saluting, man-o'-war fashion.

"Come, Mr Leigh, you and I will walk on, and you shall dine to-night with the admiral. I told him I should bring you to dinner, but Lieutenant Lipscombe has given you so bad a character that the admiral declared you would take the bribe, and have to go to prison and wait your court-martial. Here, you need not doubt me. Come along."

Hilary felt giddy. The reaction was almost more than he could bear. He felt hurt and insulted that such a trick should have been played upon him, and he was ready to turn from the captain in an injured way.

The latter saw it and smiled.

"Yes," he said, taking the young man's arm, "it was a dirty trick, but it was a necessity. We have several black sheep in the navy, my lad, and we want to weed them out; but after all, I do not regret what I have done, since it has taught me what stuff we have got in it as well. Come, shake hands, my dear boy, you and I must be great friends from now."

Hilary held out his hand as he drew it from the other's arm, and they stood there gripping each other for some seconds in a cordial grasp.

"I don't think I could have stood fire like you did, Leigh," said the captain, as they were entering Portsmouth, the latter proving to be a man of a genial temperament that rapidly won upon his companion.

"I hope you could, far better, sir," said Hilary frankly.

"Why? How so, my lad?"

"I felt horribly frightened, sir."

"You felt afraid of death?" said the captain sharply.

"Yes, sir, terribly. It seemed so hard to die when I was so young, but I would not show it."

"Why, my dear boy," said the captain enthusiastically, as he clapped Hilary on the shoulder, "you are a braver fellow even than I thought. It takes a very brave man to confess that he was afraid; but don't you mind this. There was never a man yet in the full burst of health and strength who did not feel afraid to die. But come, we won't talk any more of that, for here is the admiral's dock."



CHAPTER FORTY.

AT THE ADMIRAL'S.

It was with no little trepidation that Hilary entered the room where the admiral was waiting Captain Charteris' return, and as soon as he saw that he came with a young companion, the handsome grey-haired old gentleman came forward and shook hands with Hilary warmly.

"I'm glad to see you," he said. "If you have passed Captain Charteris's test I know that we have another officer in the service of whom we may well feel proud. At the same time, Mr Leigh, I think we ought to beg your pardon."

Hilary hardly knew whether he was upon his head or his heels that evening, and it was like a revelation to find how genial and pleasant the reputed stern and uncompromising port-admiral could be. There was an excellent dinner, political matters were strictly tabooed, and the two officers talked a good deal aside. No further allusion was made to the Kestrel till it was time to go on board, a fact of which Hilary reminded the admiral.

"To be sure, yes. Keep to your time, Mr Leigh. By the way, before you go will you tell me in a frank gentlemanly spirit what you think of Lieutenant Lipscombe."

"No, sir, I can't," said Hilary bluntly.

The admiral looked angry on receiving so flat a refusal, but he calmed down directly.

Then, recollecting himself, Hilary exclaimed, "I beg your pardon, sir; I hope you will not ask me. I would rather not say."

"Quite right, Mr Leigh; I ought not to have asked you, for you are not the proper person to speak, but you will tell me this, I suppose," he added with a smile. "You will not be sorry to hear that Lieutenant Lipscombe will be appointed to another vessel."

"I am both sorry and glad, sir," replied Hilary, "for he is a brave officer, even if he is eccentric."

"Eccentric!" said Captain Charteris. "I think he is half mad."

"But you do not ask who will be your new commander!"

"No, sir," said Hilary; "I shall try and do my best whoever he may be."

"Good!" said the admiral; "but I'll tell you all the same—shall I?" he said laughing.

"Yes, sir, I should be glad to know," replied Hilary.

The old admiral stood looking at him attentively for a few moments, and then said quietly:

"You."

Hilary half staggered back in his surprise.

"Me? me, sir? Do you mean that I shall be appointed to the command of the Kestrel? I have not passed my examination for lieutenant yet."

"No, but you will, Mr Leigh, and I have no doubt with credit. I have been having a chat with my friend the captain here. It is a novelty, I own, but the Kestrel is a very small vessel, and for the present you will have with you a brother officer of riper years, who, pending his own appointment to a ship, will, as it were, share your command, and in cases of emergency give you his advice. Of course all this is to be if I obtain the sanction of the Admiralty, but I think I may tell you this will come."

Hilary was so overpowered by this announcement that he could only stammer a few words, and Captain Charteris took his hand.

"You see, Mr Leigh," he said, "we want a dashing, spirited young officer of the greatest fidelity, a man who is brave without doubt; ready-witted, and apt to deal with the smuggling and fishing craft likely to be the bearers of emissaries from the enemy's camp. We want such an officer at once for the Kestrel, and in the emergency, as we find those qualities in you, the admiral decides to set the question of years aside, while, as his spokesman and one to whom he often refers for counsel—"

"And takes it," said the admiral smiling.

"I cannot help giving my vote in your favour. Mr Leigh," he said, speaking very sternly now, "in the king's name I ask you from this time forth to set aside boyish things and to be a man in every sense of the word, for you are entering upon a great responsibility; and Lieutenant Anderson, who comes with you, will never interfere, according to his instructions, unless he sees that you are about to be guilty of a piece of reckless folly, which in your case is, I am sure, as good as saying that he will never interfere."

"The fact is, Mr Leigh," said the admiral kindly, "Lieutenant Lipscombe unwittingly advanced your cause, and it was solely on account of what has occurred coming to my ears that you were to-night put to so severe a proof. Now, good-night. You will receive your despatches to-morrow morning, and lieutenant Anderson will come on board. Then make the best of your way to Dunkerque, and I need hardly say that I shall be glad to see you whenever you are in port on business or for pleasure."

"And I as well, Leigh," said Captain Charteris. "Some day let's hope that I shall be an admiral, and when I am I shall wish for no better luck than to have Captain Leigh in command of my flagship. But that will be some time ahead. Now, good-night."