Gilbert scarcely knew how long he had been a prisoner when he heard a voice which he recognised as d.i.c.k's. For some time he could not make out what was said.

"I will have a talk with him," he at length heard d.i.c.k observe.

Some more remarks were made when the door opened, and he found d.i.c.k standing outside.

"Why, Gilbert, they have treated you somewhat scurvily; but it was for your good, lad, and no one is more anxious about that than I am," said d.i.c.k. "Come along, and have some dinner, and we will talk matters over."

They repaired to the kitchen, where an ample meal, with no lack of spirits, was placed on the table. Gilbert did justice to it, and d.i.c.k plied him with liquor, which he drank off without considering its strength.

"I must tell you, Gilbert, that your father is in a tremendous taking about you," continued d.i.c.k. "If you were to go back, I should not be surprised if you found yourself turned out of house and home. He came to me this morning, and accused me of spiriting you away. I told him that I knew nothing about you, which was the fact. Now as matters have come to the worst, you are not likely to have a pleasant home even if you do go back, let me advise you to put the plan we have often talked about into execution, and come and have a trip with me to sea. Captain Rogers sails in the _Saucy Sally_ to-night, and I promised to go along with him. We will have a jolly time of it; you will only have to swear that you will never reveal anything you see or hear about the doings of the smugglers. I told him that you were as true as steel, and that I would answer for you."

d.i.c.k said much more to the same effect. At another time Gilbert might have refused to leave his kind father and sister and brothers, even with only the intention of making a pleasure-trip, for he was not yet hardened in vice, but the spirits he had drunk had taken effect. He had committed the sin of wilful disobedience to his father's commands, and was thus easily deceived by his treacherous companion, who persuaded him that that kind father was too angry to forgive him, and that he would be henceforth an outcast from home. Such is the way Satan always tries to deceive erring people, both young and old, and to persuade them that their heavenly Father is not at all times ready to blot out their offences if they come to Him seeking forgiveness according to the way He has appointed through the all-sufficient atonement of His Son.

His false friend had fully calculated on gaining over the unhappy Gilbert, and had told his host to get a pony ready for him. As soon as evening approached they mounted and rode to the banks of the Christchurch river, near which the _Saucy Sally_ lay moored. Though a notorious smuggler, as she had then no contraband in her, she could not be touched by the Revenue officers. Most of her numerous crew were already on board; Others were preparing to go off.

"Come!" said d.i.c.k, "we will soon be among the fine fellows," and sending back their ponies by a lad who came for the purpose, he and Gilbert jumped into a punt, and paddled alongside.

Gilbert was welcomed by Captain Rogers, who had been expecting him.

"Glad to see you, lad!" he said, shaking him by the hand, "and hope we shall have a pleasant cruise together."

Gilbert did not suspect that that slippery fellow had an object in getting him to join his gang. It was that he might revenge himself on Mr Maitland, whom he hated heartily. Rogers thought also that by getting Gilbert among them it might prevent him for the future from interfering in their illegal traffic as he had hitherto done.

The _Saucy Sally_ was the longest boat of her cla.s.s ever built--so it was said--measuring one hundred and twenty feet from her bowsprit end to the extremity of her outrigger. She had a large cuddy forward, and another aft, while the whole of the midship portion was open for the stowage of casks, of which she could carry from between two and three thousand. She pulled forty oars, and carried an enormous spread of canvas; so that in calms, light winds, or gales she could easily give the go-bye to any of the king's cruisers who might chase her.

The _Saucy Sally_ was soon gliding swiftly out to sea. She had got some distance from the land, when a light breeze springing up, her sails were hoisted, and away she sped at a rate no ordinary vessel could equal towards the French coast. Gilbert, who had often longed to take a trip in the craft he had so much admired, was delighted with the way in which she sailed, and d.i.c.k took care to keep him amused, getting several of the men to recount some of the daring and hazardous adventures in which they had been engaged. Gilbert thought the life of a bold smuggler about the finest and most exciting he could wish for.

They soon reached the French coast. d.i.c.k invited Gilbert to go on sh.o.r.e, and introduced him into scenes of vice of which before he had had no experience. The _Saucy Sally_ was detained some days taking in her cargo. The whole of this time was spent by d.i.c.k and Gilbert on sh.o.r.e, in company with several other profligate young men.

"Well, you have seen something of life," observed d.i.c.k, as they were once more on board. "You will find it somewhat slow work when you go back to help your father on his farm--eh, lad?"

"I cannot go back," answered Gilbert gloomily; "I should like to a.s.sist in running our cargo. There is excitement in that sort of work which suits my fancy."

"I admire your spirit, lad!" exclaimed Captain Rogers, who overheard him. "If you stick by us, we will stick by you, and you shall have a share in the profits of our Venture; I know I can trust you, from what I have seen of you. Wherever there is danger, I shall expect you to be near to help me," and Slippery Rogers shook Gilbert's hand warmly.

On the voyage back to England a bright look-out was kept for any Revenue cruisers which might be on the watch. Twice the _Saucy Sally_ was chased. Once, as a thick fog lifted, she found herself close to a Revenue bruiser, from which several shots struck her, killing one man and wounding two; but notwithstanding, with the help of oars and sails, she managed to get away. The _Saucy Sally_ reached the English coast at night, and Captain Rogers threw up a signal, to let his friends on sh.o.r.e know of his arrival. A signal, to show that all was right, was returned. The _Saucy Sally_ ran in, and boats coming to her, in a wonderfully short time the whole of her cargo was landed.

"Come!" said d.i.c.k to Gilbert, "if you wish to see all the fun, you must a.s.sist in conveying our cargo inland," and he gave him a brace of pistols and a short gun, such as the rest were armed with.

d.i.c.k then told Gilbert to mount a horse, over the back of which a couple of ankers were slung, and he found himself riding along in company with a large gang of smugglers similar to those he had met with a short time before. He was now thoroughly involved with the smugglers, and less than ever could he venture, so he thought, to go home. Captain Rogers and d.i.c.k felt that they had got him securely in their toils, and that they could make use of him as an instrument to do whatever they might require.

They had got some distance inland when a halt was called, a scout having come back with the information that danger was ahead. A consultation was held among the leaders, who determined to push on, and if necessary, to fight their way. d.i.c.k and Gilbert, and others on horseback, were summoned to the front. Advancing for half a mile, they saw drawn up a strong body of mounted Revenue officers. The smugglers with oaths ordered them to get out of their way, and on their refusing, rode boldly forward, firing as they advanced. The Revenue officers fired in return.

"Make use of your weapon, Gilbert!" cried d.i.c.k, seeing that his companion hesitated to attempt killing his fellow-countrymen engaged in the performance of their duty. "Are you chicken-hearted, lad? I thought better of you."

Thus taunted, Gilbert raised his piece. One of the officers was seen to fall from his saddle. More smugglers coming up, the Revenue men, finding themselves far outnumbered, retreated, carrying off two or three wounded companions. One smuggler had been killed, and several slightly wounded. The smugglers dashed on, the dead man being put into one of the waggons, and without further hindrance reached their destination.

"You did that well," said d.i.c.k to Gilbert; "I saw you bring the fellow down; should not be surprised that you killed him."

Gilbert shuddered. Had he really been guilty of the death of a fellow-creature? if so, all hope of ever returning home was gone; he would be hunted as a murderer, and murder, he had often heard, was sure to be discovered.

d.i.c.k saw the effect his remark had produced, and tried to laugh it off.

"Why, my good fellow, such things happen every day, and it's no use being downcast about it," he observed. "You can take up your old quarters at Deadman's Farm till the _Saucy Sally_ sails again; and then if you have a fancy for it, we will make a longer trip. The skipper intends to try his luck on another part of the coast, as this little affair will probably make the forest too hot for us for a time. We shall be back again, however, when it blows over, depend upon that."

Gilbert lay concealed for about a week. He had time for reflection, and had he dared, he would have gone back.

"It's too late now, though; it's too late!" he groaned out, and had recourse to the brandy-bottle to stifle conscience.

He was once more on board the lugger, and from henceforth for several years was the constant a.s.sociate of the smugglers. During the time he paid several visits to the neighbourhood of Christchurch; but he was so completely changed in appearance that even had he met any of his old acquaintances, they would not have recognised him. He had long ceased to be called by his own name, having a.s.sumed another, by which he was known among his a.s.sociates. d.i.c.k Hockley and Slippery Rogers, and others who were acquainted with his secret, kept it for their own objects, and under his a.s.sumed name he became known as one of the most daring and desperate of the band.

CHAPTER FIVE.

Hugh had returned to college. It was again summer. Arthur studied harder than ever during every spare moment. He a.s.sisted his father as far as he could, but Mr Maitland saw that his heart was not in the work, and he more than once observed--

"I am afraid, Arthur, you will make no hand at farming."

"I will do my best, at all events," was Arthur's reply. He frequently, as before, rode out with Mary. They were sometimes joined by Harry Acton, a young man who had lately taken a farm in the neighbourhood, and who seldom failed when he met them to turn his horse's head round, and accompany them on their ride. He was intelligent and well educated, and Arthur liked him from the first. Mary gave no opinion, but she did not object to his accompanying them. Mr Maitland, after hearing Arthur's report, invited Mr Acton in to tea, and seemed favourably impressed with him. He only thought him rather grave, and was surprised that a young man accustomed to country life should not take any interest in races or sporting, and had even declined to join the hunt.

"Life is too short for idle amus.e.m.e.nt," Harry observed to Mary one day.

"I have abundance of exercise in attending to my farm, and I feel that I am responsible to G.o.d for the proper employment of my time."

Mary thought that a little amus.e.m.e.nt now and then could not be wrong.

"Relaxation from business for our mental or bodily health may not be so," answered Harry; "but when I reflect that I am responsible to G.o.d for every moment of my life, I cannot reconcile it to my conscience to spend time in pursuits which do not tend to honour and glorify Him."

Mary had never heard such language used before; and though she had already learned to like him too much to quarrel with him, she was disposed to think him somewhat puritanical.

Still Harry Acton came and came again, and Mary looked forward to his visits with pleasure. Serious as his remarks were sometimes, he talked well on numerous subjects, and she confessed that he was very agreeable.

Arthur liked him more and more, and was thankful to have found a companion who could enter into his feelings and views.

Mary and Arthur had ridden over one day to Lyndhurst, and were pa.s.sing through, that picturesque village, when they saw a large number of people collected on the green beneath the wide-spreading trees which bounded one side of it. Approaching, they saw a person mounted on a small platform, which raised him above the a.s.semblage. He was of a tall, commanding figure; and as he stood bareheaded, it was seen that his hair was slightly tinged with grey, thrown back from off his high and expansive forehead. He was giving out a hymn in a clear, full voice, which reached even to the distance they were from him.

"He is a Methodist of some sort," observed Arthur. "I suppose, Mary, you do not wish to stop and hear him."

"I should be sorry to pa.s.s by without ascertaining whether what he is saying is worth listening to," answered Mary. "I like the tone of his voice, and I remember learning that hymn from our poor mother."

It was "Rock of Ages cleft for me."

The young people drew near to the outside of the circle formed round the preacher. Though thus at some distance, every word he uttered was distinctly heard. The hymn concluded, in which a number of people joined, he offered up a short prayer that the blessing of G.o.d's Holy Spirit might convey the words he spoke to the hearts of his hearers, and he implored them to reflect that they had immortal souls which must live for ever in happiness unspeakable or in immeasurable woe.

"And yet what claim have we to the bliss and glory of heaven?" he asked.

"We have none. Every man is vile and outcast, full of disobedience, utterly sinful--ay, a rebel against G.o.d! Unregenerate man lives in open rebellion against his Maker. As well might a rebel taken in arms against his lawful sovereign demand pardon by right, as man, till reconciled to G.o.d, claim to be admitted to heaven. Men virtually acknowledge this when they profess a hope of going there by their performance of good works, by their penances, by the confession of their sins to other sinful mortals, by their sacrifices to Him who has said that He takes no delight in the blood of bulls and of goats."

He continued, with text upon text, to prove the utter depravity of human nature, and man's lost condition. He pointed to the state of society in all countries, people of all cla.s.ses, to the hearts of each of his hearers, compelling them to search within, and many with horror felt that they were utterly lost. Then suddenly he pointed to the blue canopy of heaven, undimmed by a single cloud, and spoke of the unapproachable purity and holiness of G.o.d, in whose sight even the heavens are not clean; of heaven His dwelling-place, where all is peace and joy and love and holiness and purity, surpa.s.sing human comprehension. He spoke, too, of the might, the awful majesty and immutable justice of the Divinity, who can by no means look upon iniquity, who considers every departure from His exact and strict law as sin, who allows no such sins as small sins, and considers the least infraction of one of His laws as sinful.

"But I have not yet finished the catalogue of G.o.d's attributes," he continued. "He is a G.o.d of mercy: He is a G.o.d of love; though He hates sin, He loves the sinner, and that love caused Him to form the glorious plan by which His justice and mercy can both be satisfied--by which sinful and rebellious man can become reconciled and fit to inhabit a pure heaven, in which nothing vile and undefiled can enter. That plan I would now with swelling heart unfold to you. That gospel plan which G.o.d sent down His well-beloved Son, not only to declare to sinful man, but to carry out. Christ Himself announced it when He said, `G.o.d so loved the world, that He sent His only-begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have eternal life.' Yes, G.o.d could not pa.s.s over sin; but in His infinite grace and mercy He allowed His only-begotten Son, all pure and holy and obedient, to be punished instead of unholy and rebellious man. He might have sent an angel, but then man would have given to that angel the love and reverence and obedience which is due to Himself alone. Christ left not one particle of the work to be done by man, graciously allowing man to take hold of it through a living faith, producing love and grat.i.tude and adoration towards Him who accomplished it. Yet even thus sinful man was not left to his own unaided efforts. When Christ rose, the first-fruits from the dead, He promised, ere He ascended, to sit at the right hand of G.o.d, there to be man's great High Priest, Mediator, and Intercessor--to send one to dwell with, to enlighten, support, and comfort, to urge and to enable man to take advantage of that salvation which He had completely wrought out. Oh, my friends! rebels though you are, that gracious, loving G.o.d asks you to be reconciled to Himself. He has done the whole work for you. You cannot undo a single act, or unsay a single idle word; every evil thought is registered against you. But all, all will be blotted out--`Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as wool;'

`The blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin!' Oh! let me urge you to take advantage of that blood shed for you on Calvary. Accept without a moment's delay our loving Father's gracious offer of reconciliation.