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Cutlass and Cudgel

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<h3>Chapter Twenty Eight.</h3> Ram sat there holding out his hand to the midshipman, but it was not taken, and for a space they gazed into each other’s eyes. The silence was broken by Ram. “Well,” he said at last, “won’t you shake hands?” “An officer and a gentleman cannot shake hands with one like you,” replied Archy coldly. “Oh, can’t he?” said Ram quietly. “You’re a gentleman. Was it being a gentleman made you come down and pull me on here.” “I don’t know whether being a gentleman made me do it,” said Archy coldly. “I saw you would lose your life if I did not get a rope and come to you, and so I did it.” “Yes; that’s being a gentleman made you do that,” said Ram thoughtfully. “None of our fellows would have done that.” “I suppose not.” “I know I wouldn’t.” “Yes, you would.” Ram looked the midshipman hard in the face again. “You mean, if I’d seen you lying down here like I was, I should have gone and fetched the rope and pulled you up?” “Yes; I am sure you would.” Ram sat in his old position, with his hand to the back of his aching head. “But it’s being a gentleman made you do it.” “No; anybody who saw a person in danger would try and save his life; and you would have tried to save mine.” “But I might have slipped and gone over the cliff.” “You wouldn’t have thought about that,” said Archy quietly. “You did not think about the danger when you saw me trying to escape.” “No, I didn’t, did I?” said Ram thoughtfully. “I knew how savage father would be if you got away and fetched the sailors; and he told me I was to see you didn’t get out, so I come down after you.” “And you would have done as I said.” “Well, praps I should,” said Ram, laughing; “but, as we didn’t neither of us go over, it’s no use to talk about it. My! How it does ache!” He turned himself a little, so as to plant his back against the rock, and let his legs hang down over the edge. “That’s more comf’table. Bit of a rest. Hard work getting down here and wrastling.” Archy was in so cramped and awkward a position, half kneeling, that he followed his companion’s example, shuddering slightly, though, as he let his legs go down, and put his hands beside him to press his back firmly against the rock. “Frightened?” said Ram, who was watching him. “I don’t know about being frightened. It would be a terrible fall.” “Oh, I don’t know,” said Ram, leaning forward and gazing down into the void. “Water’s precious deep here. Such lots of great conger eels, six foot long, ’bout the holes in the bottom. Jemmy Dadd and me’s caught ’em before now. Most strong enough to pull you out of the boat. Dessay, if you went down, you’d come up again, but you couldn’t get ashore.” “Why? A good swimmer could get round the point there, and make for the ledge where I saw you and that man land.” “No, you couldn’t,” said Ram; “it’s hard work to get round there with a boat. You do have to pull. That’s where the race is, and it would carry you out to—oh?” The boy was looking down between his legs as he spoke; and the midshipman just had time to dart forward his hand, catch him by the shoulder, and drag him back, or he would have gone off the rock. Ram lurched over sidewise, his sun-browned face mottled and strange-looking, as his head dropped slowly over on to the midshipman’s shoulder, where it lay for a good ten minutes, Archy passing his arm round the boy, and supporting him as he lay there, breathing heavily, with his eyes half-closed. It was a terrible position; and a cold, damp perspiration bedewed the midshipman’s face, as he felt how near they both were to a terrible end. The deep water after that awful fall, the fierce current which would carry him out to sea—and then came shuddering thoughts of the great, long, serpent-like congers, of whose doings horrible stories were current among the sailors. At last, to his great relief, Ram uttered a deep sigh, and sat up, smiling at his companion. “I’ve felt like that before,” he said. “Come over all at once sick and giddy, like you do if you lean down too much in the sun. I should have gone over, shouldn’t I, if you hadn’t ketched me?” “Don’t talk about it.” “Oh, very well; it was hitting my head such a crack, I suppose. I say, though, you never thought you could get away down here, did you?” “Meant to try,” said Archy laconically. “Yah! What was the good, I knowed you wouldn’t; but I meant to fetch you back. Me and Jemmy Dadd come down here once after birds’ eggs, before father had the place up there quite blocked up. It used to be a hole just big enough to creep through. Jemmy stopped up on that patch where you and me wrastled, and let me down with a rope. There’s no getting no farther than this.” “Not with a rope?” “Well, with a very long one you might slide down to the water, but what’s the good, without there was a boat waiting? You hadn’t got the boat, and you didn’t bring no rope. No use to try to get away.” The words seemed more and more the words of truth as the midshipman listened, and he was compelled to own in his own mind that he had failed in his attempt; but a question seemed to leap from his lips next moment, and he said sharply,— “Perhaps there’s no getting down, but any one might climb up right to the top of the cliff.” “Fly might, or a beedle,” said the boy, laughing. “Why, a rabbit couldn’t, and I’ve seen them do some rum things, cutting up the rocks where they’ve been straight up like a wall. Why, it comes right over up nigh the top. No, father’s right; place is safe enough from the seaside, and so it is from the land. Now, then, let’s go back.” “You can go,” said Archy coldly. “I’m going to stop here.” “That you won’t,” said Ram sharply. “You’re a-coming up with me. Yah! What’s the good o’ being obstinate? We don’t want to have another fight. Don’t you see you can’t get away?” “I will get away,” said Archy sternly. “Well, you won’t get off this way, till your wings grow,” said Ram, laughing. “Come on, mate, let’s get back.” Archy hesitated, but was obliged to come to the conclusion that he was beaten this time, and he turned slowly to his companion and said,— “Can you climb that rope?” “Can I climb that rope? I should think I can!” “But dare you venture now?” Ram put his hand to his head, and gazed up thoughtfully. “Well, it would be stoopid if I was to turn dizzy again. S’pose you untie the rope from round you, and let me tie it round my waist. Then you go up first, and when I come, you’ll be ready to lend me a hand.” “Yes, that will be best,” said Archy. “Without you want to leave me?” said the boy, laughing. The midshipman made no reply. There was an arduous task before him, and his nerves were unstrung. After he had unfastened the end of the rope and passed it to Ram, who did not secure the end about him, but the middle, after he had nearly drawn it tight, so that, if he did slip, the fall would not be so long. Then reluctantly, but feeling that it must be done, Archy climbed the thirty feet of rope between him and the great ledge, slowly and surely, glad to lie down and close his eyes as soon as he was in safety so far. He tried to, but he dared not look over when the rope began to quiver again. He contented himself with taking hold near the edge, and crouched there, picturing the boy turning dizzy once more from his injury, letting go, and dropping with a terrible jerk to the extent of the rope where it was tied. Then, as he felt the strong hemp quiver in his hands, he found himself wondering if the strands would snap one by one with the terrible strain of the jerk, and whether the boy would drop down into the sea. What should he do then? What should he do if the rope did not part? He did not think he would have strength to draw the boy up, and, if he did, he was so unnerved now, that he did not believe he would be able to drag him over the edge on to the rock platform. There! Ram must be turning giddy, he was so long; and, unable to bear the pressure longer, Archy opened his eyes and crept nearer to the edge, to face the horror of seeing the boy’s wild upturned eyes. But he saw nothing of the kind, save in the workings of his own disordered imagination. What he did see was Ram’s frank-looking rustic face close up, and a hand was reached over the edge. “You may get hold of me anywhere if you like,” said the boy, “and give a hand. That’s your style, orficer! Pull away, and up she comes. That’s it!” he said, as he crept over the edge. “Thank’ee. I aren’t smuggled.” They both sat down for a few minutes, while Ram untied the rope from his waist and from round the big block of stone, before beginning to coil it up. “I say,” he said, as he formed ring after ring of rope, “that rock isn’t very safe. If I’d slipped, and the rope hadn’t snapped, that big stone would have come down atop of me, and what a mess you’d have been in, if father had said you pitched me off!” “Let’s get back,” said the midshipman, who felt sick at heart; and he moved toward the place where he had been down and up three times. “Wait a moment,” said Ram, securing the end of the rope, and throwing the coil over his shoulder. “That’s right. I’ll go first. Know the way?” “Because you don’t trust me,” said Archy angrily. “That’s it,” said Ram. “Door’s open, and you might get out.” Archy’s teeth grated together, but he said nothing, only began to climb, following the boy patiently till they were nearing the opening, when he started so violently that he nearly lost his hold. For a voice came from above his head,— “Got him, Ram?” “Yes, father; here he is.” For the moment the midshipman felt disposed to descend again, but he kept on, and a minute later he looked up, to see Ram’s frank face looking out of the hole, and the boy stretched out his hand. “Want any help? Oh, all right then!” “Did you think you’d get out that way, youngster?” said Shackle, as the midshipman stood erect at the top of the rough stairs. “I thought I’d try,” said the lad stiffly. “Took a lot o’ trouble for nothing, boy,” said the smuggler. “I come to see what was amiss, Ram, boy, you was so long. Don’t come again without Jemmy Dadd or some one.” “No, father.” “So you thought you’d get away, did you?” said the smuggler, with an ugly smile. “Ought to have known better, boy. You wouldn’t be kept here, if there was a way for you to escape.” Archy felt too much depressed to make any sharp reply, and the smuggler turned to his son. “What’s the matter with you?” “Bit of a tumble, father, that’s all,” said the boy cheerfully, as he placed his hand to the back of his head. “You should take care, then; rocks are harder than heads. Hi! You Jemmy Dadd!” “Hullo!” came out of the darkness. “Get Tom to help you to-morrow. Bring a bushel or two o’ lime stuff, and stop up this hole, all but a bit big enough for a pigeon to go in and out. It’ll give him a taste o’ light and air. Now, youngster, on with you. Show the lanthorn, Jemmy.” The man came forward, and Archy was made to follow him, the smuggler and his son coming on behind; and ten minutes later the prisoner was seated in his old place in the darkness, with Ram’s basket of provisions for consolation. As he sat there, listening to the departing footsteps, and feeling more and more that it was quite true,—escape must be impossible down the cliff, or else they would not have left him with the opening unguarded,—there was the dull, heavy report of the closing trap-door, and the rattle and snap of bolts, and that followed by the rumbling down of the pieces of stone. He had pretty well thought out the correct theory of this noise, that it was on purpose to hide the trap-door from any prying eyes which might pass, and prying eyes must be few, he felt, or else the smugglers would not have had recourse to so clumsy a contrivance. He thought all this over again, as he sat there wearied out and despondent, for in the morning his task had seemed as good as achieved, and now he was face to face with the fact, after all that labour, that it had been in vain, and he was more a prisoner than ever. “Not quite so badly off as some, though,” he thought, as, moved thereto by the terrible hunger he felt, he stretched out his hand for the basket. Not bread and water, but good tasty provisions, and— “What’s this in the bottle?” he asked himself, as he removed the cork. It was good wholesome cider, and being seventeen, and growing fast, Archy forgot everything for the next half-hour in the enjoyment of a hearty meal. An hour later, just as he was thinking of going to the opening to sit there and look out at the evening sky, he dropped off fast asleep, and was wakened by the coming of two of the smugglers, who busied themselves in the repairs of the broken wall. <hr> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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