"My dear boy! My dear Archy Raystoke!" cried the lieutenant, seizing his hands and pumping them up and down. "Of course I didn't think it!

Knew you were too much of a gentleman, but I was stuffed full of thoughts like that, and they would come out. Here," he cried, "drink that, and here's some cake sent from Poole, and--tip it up, and eat away. I am glad to see you again. G.o.d bless you, my dear boy! I'm your officer, but you don't know how miserable I've been."

"Yes, I do, sir. I know you always liked me," cried the midshipman, between the mouthfuls he was taking. "But never mind the being prisoner, sir. I know all the scoundrels' secrets now, and you can capture them, and make some good hauls. You must send a strong party ash.o.r.e as soon as it's day."

"But--but--"

Archy answered those buts to such an extent that Gurr's report was needless, and the master was terribly disappointed.

By that time the cutter was slowly gliding away seaward, with every eye on the watch, for, as the lieutenant explained, after telling his recovered officer how he had searched in all directions, he had that night seen lights shown far up on one of the cliffs--lights which might mean a warning to some vessel to keep off, or just as likely might have the other intention, and be an invite to some lugger to land her cargo.

In any case the lieutenant meant to be on the alert, and hence the sailing of the cutter.

The lieutenant had hesitated a little at first after hearing his midshipman's report, but he now decided how to act.

"No," he said; "not to-night, my lad. I'm inclined to think the signal was a warning to keep off. They may hide the cargo they leave ash.o.r.e, and if we don't capture it, so much the worse, but our work is to crush up the gang more than to capture a few barrels and bales. We'll look out to-night, and, as soon as it is daylight, you shall make sure of the bearings of your prison, then we'll land a strong boat's crew, and go along the top of the cliff to the place, and put an end to that game.

You shall make a good meal, and then have a sleep, ready for to-morrow's work. Hah!" cried the little lieutenant; "that ought to mean a good day's business, Mr Raystoke, and promotion to better jobs than this."

"I hope so, sir," said Archy, with his mouth full.

"No use to hope," said the lieutenant dismally. "I'm like poor old Gurr; they don't consider me fit for service in a crack ship; and when I make my report, and send in my despatches, and ask for an appointment, I shall be told I do my work too well on this important service, and that they cannot spare so valuable an officer from the station. Gammon, Mr Raystoke, gammon! It's all because I'm so little and so fat."

Archy was silent, for he knew it was the truth, and that such a quaint little fellow did not somehow quite command the men's respect.

Half an hour after, he was sleeping heavily, with the delightful sensation of being undressed and between blankets, to wake up with a start in the morning, by hearing Ram coming to the trap-door.

No, it was a noise on deck; and he sprang up and rapidly washed and dressed, to hurry up to see what was going on.

CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE.

As the midshipman reached the deck, it was to find that there was a light mist on the water, and that the lieutenant was at the side with Gurr, where they were watching a boat coming in from seaward.

The cutter was back not far from her old moorings, and the great cliffs of the sh.o.r.e were dimly visible.

"Lobster-boat, sir," said Gurr, as Archy came behind them.

"Never mind! I'll overhaul her. I'm going to be suspicious of everything now. Take the boat, and--Ah, to be sure. Mr Raystoke, take the boat, and see what those fellows mean. They're making straight for the ledge, and there is no one to buy lobsters there."

"Ay, ay, sir!"

That familiar sea-going reply seemed to ring out of the lad's throat, and afforded him a pure feeling of delight. No more groping about in the darkness, biting his nails, and feeling heart-sick with despondency, but the full delight of freedom and an active life.

No lad ever sprang to his work with more alacrity, and, as he leaped into the boat, and the men dropped their oars, there was a hearty look of welcome in each smiling face.

"She has just gone into the mist there, Mr Raystoke," said the lieutenant; "but she's making straight for that ledge, and you can't miss her. One moment. If the men seem all right and honest as to what they are going to do, see if you can get any information, but be on your guard, as they'll send you, perhaps, on some fool's errand."

"Ay, ay, sir!" cried Archy again, as he took the handle of the tiller.

"Now, my lads, give way!"

The mist was patchy, thin here and thick there, but it seemed an easy task to overtake the boat, which had glided into the fog, going slowly, with her little sail set, and with only a man and boy for crew. She was about a mile away from the cutter, and about a quarter of that distance from the land when she pa.s.sed out of sight, and the possibility of not overtaking her never entered the midshipman's head. All the same, though, he was well enough trained in his duties to make him keep a sharp look-out on either side, as they crept in, to make sure that the boat did not slip away under the cliffs to right or left unseen.

The mist grew more dense as they neared the towering cliffs. Then it seemed to become thinner, and, just as the midshipman was thinking to himself how glorious it would be if the man and boy in the boat should prove to be his old friends Ram and Jemmy Dadd, there came a peculiar squeaking sound from somewhere ahead.

"Lowering sail, sir," said Dirty d.i.c.k, who was pulling first oar.

"Then we have not missed them," thought Archy, as the men pulled steadily on, with the rushing, plunging noise of the waves beginning to be heard as they washed the foot of the cliffs. "I'll be bound to say it is Ram and that big scoundrel. Oh, what a chance to get them aboard in irons and under hatches, for them to have a taste of what they gave me!"

It seemed perfectly reasonable that those two should have been off somewhere in a boat, and were now returning. Who more likely to be making for the ledge, which, as far as he could judge, was a point or two off to the right.

All at once, after a few minutes' pulling, the boat glided right out of the bank of mist which hung between them like a soft grey veil, while in front, lit up by the first beams of the morning sun, was the great wall of cliff, the ledge over which the waves washed gently, the green pasture high up, and the ledges dotted with grey and white gulls. The picture was lovely in the extreme, but it wanted two things in Archy's eyes to make it perfect; and those two things were a background formed by the great cliff, down which he had crept, and the feature which would have given it life and interest--to wit, the fishing-boat containing Ram and Jemmy Dadd.

"Hold hard, my lads!" cried the midshipman, and the men ceased rowing, holding their oars balanced, with the diamond-like drops falling sparkling from their blades into the clear sea, while the boat glided slowly on towards the ledge, which was just in front.

"Why, where's the boat?" cried Archy excitedly, as he swept the face of the cliff with his eyes.

"She aren't here, sir," said d.i.c.k.

"Well, I can see that, my man. Can she have slipped aside and let us pa.s.s?"

"No," said one of the other men. "'Sides, sir, she was just afore us ten minutes ago, and we heard her lowering down her mast and sail."

"Could that have been a gull?"

"What, make a squeal like a wheel in a block? No, sir, not it."

"Then they have run her up on the ledge and dragged her into one of the holes. Give way!"

The men pulled in quickly, and at the end of a few minutes they were as close to the side of the ledge as it was safe to go, for, as the waves ran in, the larger ones leaped right over the broad level s.p.a.ce, washing it from end to end. But there was no sign of the boat, and the midshipman hesitated about believing that the man and boy could have taken advantage of a good wave and run her right on.

"It's strange," said Archy aloud, as he sat there thinking that, if he chose his time right, he might make his men pull the boat in upon a wave, let them jump out and drag her up the rocks.

But he shook his head, for he knew that if everything was not done to the moment, the boat would be stove in.

"Hullo! What are you shaking your head about?" he said sharply to d.i.c.k.

"Nothing sir, only you said it was strange."

"Well, isn't it strange?"

"Ay, sir; so's the _Flying Dutchman_!"

"What? Why, you do not think any of that superst.i.tious nonsense about the boat, do you?"

"Well, sir, I dunno. I only says, Where's the boat now? She couldn't have got away."

"No," said another of the men. "She couldn't have landed there."