The Lighthouse

“‘To Monsieur Mair of the town called Arbrought, or in his absence to the chief man after him in Scotland.’

“On reading this the Provost bowed respectfully to the officer, and begged of him to wait a few minutes while he should consult with his chief men. This was agreed to, and the Provost said to his friends, as he walked to a neighbouring house—

“‘Ye see, freens, this whipper-snapper o’ a tade-eater has gotten the whup hand o’ us; but we’ll be upsides wi’ him. The main thing is to get delay, so cut away, Tam Cargill, and tak’ horse to Montrose for the sodgers. Spare na the spur, lad, an’ gar them to understan’ that the case is urgent.’

“While Tam Cargill started away on his mission, the Provost, whose chief aim was to gain time and cause delay, penned an epistle to the Frenchman, in which he stated that he had neglected to name the terms on which he would consent to spare the town, and that he would consider it extremely obliging if he would, as speedily as possible, return an answer, stating them, in order that they might be laid before the chief men of the place.”

“When the Provost, who was a grave, dignified old man, with a strong dash of humour in him, handed this note to the French officer, he did so with a humble obeisance that appeared to afford much gratification to the little man. As the latter jumped into the boat and ordered the men to push off, the Provost turned slowly to his brother magistrates with a wink and a quiet smile that convulsed them with suppressed laughter, and did more to encourage any of the wavering or timid inhabitants than if he had harangued them heroically for an hour.

“Some time after the boat returned with a reply, which ran thus:—

“‘At Sea, eight o’clock in the Afternoon.’

“‘Gentlemen,—I received just now your answer, by which you say I ask no terms. I thought it was useless, since I asked you to come aboard for agreement. But here are my terms:– I will have 30,000 pounds sterling at least, and six of the chiefs men of the town for otage. Be speedy, or I shot your town away directly, and I set fire to it. I am, gentlemen, your servant,– G. Fall.

“‘I sent some of my crew to you, but if some harm happens to them, you’ll be sure we’ll hang up the mainyard all the prisoners we have aboard.

“‘To Monsieurs the chiefs men of Arbrought in Scotland.’

“I’m not quite certain,” continued the lieutenant, “what were the exact words of the Provost’s reply to this letter, but they conveyed a distinct and contemptuous refusal to accede to any terms, and, I believe, invited Fall to come ashore, where, if he did not get precisely what he had asked, he would be certain to receive a great deal more than he wanted.

“The enraged and disappointed Frenchman at once began a heavy fire upon the town, and continued it for a long time, but fortunately it did little or no harm, as the town lay in a somewhat low position, and Fall’s guns being too much elevated, the shot passed over it.

“Next day another letter was sent to the Provost by some fishermen, who were captured while fishing off the Bell Rock. This letter was as tremendous as the two former. I can give it to you, word for word, from memory.

“‘At Sea, May 24th.’

“‘Gentlemen,—See whether you will come to some terms with me, or I come in presently with my cutter into the arbour, and I will cast down the town all over. Make haste, because I have no time to spare. I give you a quarter of an hour to your decision, and after I’ll make my duty. I think it would be better for you, gentlemen, to come some of you aboard presently, to settle the affairs of your town. You’ll sure no to be hurt. I give you my parole of honour. I am your, G. Fall.’

“When the Provost received this he looked round and said, ‘Now, gentlemen all, we’ll hae to fight. Send me Ogilvy.’

“‘Here I am, Provost,’ cried a stout, active young fellow; something like what the captain must have been when he was young, I should think!”

“Ahem!” coughed the captain.

“Well,” continued Lindsay, “the Provost said, ‘Now, Ogilvy, you’re a smart cheel, an’ ken aboot war and strategy and the like: I charge ye to organise the men o’ the toon without delay, and tak’ what steps ye think adveesable. Meanwhile, I’ll away and ripe oot a’ the airms and guns I can find. Haste ye, lad, an’ mak’ as muckle noise aboot it as ye can.’

“‘Trust me,’ said Ogilvy, who appeared to have been one of those men who regard a fight as a piece of good fun.

“Turning to the multitude, who had heard the commission given, and were ready for anything, he shouted, ‘Now, boys, ye heard the Provost. I need not ask if you are all ready to fight—’

“A deafening cheer interrupted the speaker, who, when it ceased, proceeded—

“‘Well, then, I’ve but one piece of advice to give ye: Obey orders at once. When I tell ye to halt, stop dead like lampposts; when I say, “Charge!” go at them like wild cats, and drive the Frenchmen into the sea!’ ‘Hurrah!’ yelled the crowd, for they were wild with excitement and rage, and only wanted a leader to organise them and make them formidable. When the cheer ceased, Ogilvy cried, ‘Now, then, every man who knows how to beat a kettledrum and blow a trumpet come here.’

“About twenty men answered to the summons, and to these Ogilvy said aloud, in order that all might hear, ‘Go, get you all the trumpets, drums, horns, bugles, and trombones in the town; beat the drums till they split, and blow the bugles till they burst, and don’t give in till ye can’t go on. The rest of you,’ he added, turning to the crowd, ‘go, get arms, guns, swords, pistols, scythes, pitchforks, pokers—any thing, everything—and meet me at the head of Market-gate—away!’

“No king of necromancers ever dispersed his legions more rapidly than did Ogilvy on that occasion. They gave one final cheer, and scattered like chaff before the wind, leaving their commander alone, with a select few, whom he kept by him as a sort of staff to consult with and despatch with orders.

“The noise that instantly ensued in the town was something pandemoniacal. Only three drums were found, but tin kettles and pans were not wanting, and these, superintended by Hugh Barr, the town drummer, did great execution. Three key-bugles, an old French horn, and a tin trumpet of a mail-coach guard, were sounded at intervals in every quarter of the town, while the men were marshalled, and made to march hither and thither in detached bodies, as if all were busily engaged in making preparations for a formidable defence.

“In one somewhat elevated position a number of men were set to work with spades, picks, and shovels, to throw up an earthwork. When it had assumed sufficiently large dimensions to attract the attention of the French, a body of men, with blue jackets, and caps with bits of red flannel hanging down the sides, were marched up behind it at the double, and posted there.

“Meanwhile Ogilvy had prepared a dummy field piece, by dismounting a cart from its wheels and fixing on the axle a great old wooden pump, not unlike a big gun in shape; another cart was attached to this to represent a limber; four horses were harnessed to the affair; two men mounted these, and, amid a tremendous flourish of trumpets and beating of drums, the artillery went crashing along the streets and up the eminence crowned by the earthwork, where they wheeled the gun into position.

“The artillerymen sprang at the old pump like true Britons, and began to sponge it out as if they had been bred to gunnery from childhood, while the limber was detached and galloped to the rear. In this operation the cart was smashed to pieces, and the two hindmost horses were thrown; but this mattered little, as they had got round a corner, and the French did not see it.

“Fall and his brave men seem to have been upset altogether by these warlike demonstrations, for the moment the big gun made its appearance the sails were shaken loose, and the French privateer sheered off; capturing as he left the bay, however, several small vessels, which he carried off as prizes to France. And so,” concluded the lieutenant, “Captain Fall sailed away, and never was heard of more.”

“Well told; well told, leftenant,” cried the captain, whose eyes sparkled at the concluding account of the defensive operations, “and true every word of it.”

“That’s good testimony to my truthfulness, then,” said Lindsay, laughing, “for you were there yourself!”

“There yourself, uncle?” repeated Minnie, with a glance of surprise that quickly changed into a look of intelligence, as she exclaimed, with a merry laugh, “Ah! I see. It was you, uncle, who did it all; who commanded on that occasion—”

“My child,” said the captain, resuming his pipe with an expression of mild reproof on his countenance, “don’t go for to pry too deep into things o’ the past. I may have been a fire-eater once—I may have been a gay young feller as could—; but no matter. Avast musin’! As Lord Bacon says—

“‘The light of other days is faded,An’ all their glory’s past;My boots no longer look as they did,But, like my coat, are goin’ fast.’

“But I say, leftenant, how long do you mean to keep pullin’ about here, without an enemy, or, as far as I can see, an object in view? Don’t you think we might land, and let Minnie see some of the caves?”

“With all my heart, captain, and here is a convenient bay to run the boat ashore.”

As he spoke the boat shot past one of those bold promontories of red sandstone which project along that coast in wild picturesque forms, terminating in some instances in detached headlands, elsewhere in natural arches. The cliffs were so close to the boat that they could have been touched by the oars, while the rocks, rising to a considerable height, almost overhung them. Just beyond this a beautiful bay opened up to view, with a narrow strip of yellow shingle round the base of the cliffs, which here lost for a short distance their rugged character, though not their height, and were covered with herbage. A zigzag path led to the top, and the whole neighbourhood was full of ocean-worn coves and gullies, some of them dry, and many filled with water, while others were filled at high tide, and left empty when the tides fell.

“O how beautiful! and what a place for smugglers!” was Minnie’s enthusiastic exclamation on first catching sight of the bay.

“The smugglers and you would appear to be of one mind,” said Ruby, “for they are particularly fond of this place.”

“So fond of it,” said the lieutenant, “that I mean to wait for them here in anticipation of a moonlight visit this night, if my fair passenger will consent to wander in such wild places at such late hours, guarded from the night air by my boat-cloak, and assured of the protection of my stout boatmen in case of any danger, although there is little prospect of our meeting with any greater danger than a breeze or a shower of rain.”

Minnie said that she would like nothing better; that she did not mind the night air; and, as to danger from men, she felt that she should be well cared for in present circumstances.

As she uttered the last words she naturally glanced at Ruby, for Minnie was of a dependent and trusting nature; but as Ruby happened to be regarding her intently, though quite accidentally, at the moment, she dropped her eyes and blushed.

It is wonderful the power of a little glance at times. The glance referred to made Ruby perfectly happy. It conveyed to him the assurance that Minnie regarded the protection of the entire boat’s crew, including the lieutenant, as quite unnecessary, and that she deemed his single arm all that she required or wanted.

The sun was just dipping behind the tall cliffs, and his parting rays were kissing the top of Minnie’s head as if they positively could not help it, and had recklessly made up their mind to do it, come what might!

Ruby looked at the golden light kissing the golden hair, and he felt—

Oh! you know, reader; if you have ever been in similar circumstances, you understand what he felt; if you have not, no words from me, or from any other man, can ever convey to you the most distant idea of what Ruby felt on that occasion!

On reaching the shore they all went up to the green banks at the foot of the cliffs, and turned round to watch the men as they pulled the boat to a convenient point for re-embarking at a moment’s notice.

“You see,” said the lieutenant, pursuing a conversation which he had been holding with the captain, “I have been told that Big Swankie, and his mate Davy Spink (who, it seems, is not over-friendly with him just now), mean to visit one of the luggers which is expected to come in to-night, before the moon rises, and bring off some kegs of Auchmithie water, which, no doubt, they will try to hide in Dickmont’s Den. I shall lie snugly here on the watch, and hope to nab them before they reach that celebrated old smuggler’s abode.”

“Well, I’ll stay about here,” said the captain, “and show Minnie the caves. I would like to have taken her to see the Gaylet Pot, which is one o’ the queerest hereabouts; but I’m too old for such rough work now.”

“But I am not too old for it,” interposed Ruby, “so if Minnie would like to go—”

“But I won’t desert you, uncle,” said Minnie hastily.

“Nay, lass, call it not desertion. I can smoke my pipe here, an’ contemplate. I’m fond of contemplation—

“‘By the starry light of the summer night,On the banks of the blue Moselle,’

“Though, for the matter o’ that, moonlight’ll do, if there’s no stars. I think it’s good for the mind, Minnie, and keeps all taut. Contemplation is just like takin’ an extra pull on the lee braces. So you may go with Ruby, lass.”

Thus advised, and being further urged by Ruby himself, and being moreover exceedingly anxious to see this cave, Minnie consented; so the two set off together, and, climbing to the summit of the cliffs, followed the narrow footpath that runs close to their giddy edge all along the coast.

In less than half an hour they reached the Giel or Gaylet Pot.

Chapter Nineteen

An Adventure—Secrets Revealed, and a Prize

The Giel or Gaylet Pot, down into which Ruby, with great care and circumspection, led Minnie, is one of the most curious of Nature’s freaks among the cliffs of Arbroath.

In some places there is a small scrap of pebbly beach at the base of those perpendicular cliffs; in most places there is none—the cliffs presenting to the sea almost a dead wall, where neither ship nor boat could find refuge from the storm.

The country, inland, however, does not partake of the rugged nature of the cliffs. It slopes gradually towards them—so gradually that it may be termed flat, and if a stranger were to walk towards the sea over the fields in a dark night, the first intimation he would receive of his dangerous position would be when his foot descended into the terrible abyss that would receive his shattered frame a hundred feet below.

In one of the fields there is a hole about a hundred yards across, and as deep as the cliffs in that part are high. It is about fifty or eighty yards from the edge of the cliffs, and resembles an old quarry; but it is cut so sharply out of the flat field that it shows no sign of its existence until the traveller is close upon it. The rocky sides, too, are so steep, that at first sight it seems as if no man could descend into it. But the most peculiar point about this hole is, that at the foot of it there is the opening of a cavern, through which the sea rolls into the hole, and breaks in wavelets on a miniature shore. The sea has forced its way inland and underground until it has burst into the bottom of this hole, which is not inaptly compared to a pot with water boiling at the bottom of it. When a spectator looks into the cave, standing at the bottom of the “Pot”, he sees the seaward opening at the other end—a bright spot of light in the dark interior.

“You won’t get nervous, Minnie?” said Ruby, pausing when about halfway down the steep declivity, where the track, or rather the place of descent, became still more steep and difficult; “a slip here would be dangerous.”

“I have no fear, Ruby, as long as you keep by me.”

In a few minutes they reached the bottom, and, looking up, the sky appeared above them like a blue circular ceiling, with the edges of the Gaylet Pot sharply defined against it.

Proceeding over a mass of fallen rock, they reached the pebbly strand at the cave’s inner mouth.

“I can see the interior now, as my eyes become accustomed to the dim light,” said Minnie, gazing up wistfully into the vaulted roof, where the edges of projecting rocks seemed to peer out of darkness. “Surely this must be a place for smugglers to come to!”

“They don’t often come here. The place is not so suitable as many of the other caves are.”

From the low, subdued tones in which they both spoke, it was evident that the place inspired them with feelings of awe.

“Come, Minnie,” said Ruby, at length, in a more cheerful tone, “let us go into this cave and explore it.”

“But the water may be deep,” objected Minnie; “besides, I do not like to wade, even though it be shallow.”

“Nay, sweet one; do you think I would ask you to wet your pretty feet? There is very little wading required. See, I have only to raise you in my arms and take two steps into the water, and a third step to the left round that projecting rock, where I can set you down on another beach inside the cave. Your eyes will soon get used to the subdued light, and then you will see things much more clearly than you would think it possible viewed from this point.”

Minnie did not require much pressing. She had perfect confidence in her lover, and was naturally fearless in disposition, so she was soon placed on the subterranean beach of the Gaylet Cave, and for some time wandered about in the dimly-lighted place, leaning on Ruby’s arm.

Gradually their eyes became accustomed to the place, and then its mysterious beauty and wildness began to have full effect on their minds, inducing them to remain for a long time, silent, as they sat side by side on a piece of fallen rock.

They sat looking in the direction of the seaward entrance to the cavern, where the light glowed brightly on the rocks, gradually losing its brilliancy as it penetrated the cave, until it became quite dim in the centre. No part of the main cave was quite dark, but the offshoot, in which the lovers sat, was almost dark. To anyone viewing it from the outer cave it would have appeared completely so.

“Is that a sea-gull at the outlet?” enquired Minnie, after a long pause.

Ruby looked intently for a moment in the direction indicated.

“Minnie,” he said quickly, and in a tone of surprise, “that is a large gull, if it be one at all, and uses oars instead of wings. Who can it be? Smugglers never come here that I am aware of, and Lindsay is not a likely man to waste his time in pulling about when he has other work to do.”

“Perhaps it may be some fishermen from Auchmithie,” suggested Minnie, “who are fond of exploring, like you and me.”

“Mayhap it is, but we shall soon see, for here they come. We must keep out of sight, my girl.”

Ruby rose and led Minnie into the recesses of the cavern, where they were speedily shrouded in profound darkness, and could not be seen by anyone, although they themselves could observe all that occurred in the space in front of them.

The boat, which had entered the cavern by its seaward mouth, was a small one, manned by two fishermen, who were silent as they rowed under the arched roof; but it was evident that their silence did not proceed from caution, for they made no effort to prevent or check the noise of the oars.

In a few seconds the keel grated on the pebbles, and one of the men leaped out.

“Noo, Davy,” he said, in a voice that sounded deep and hollow under that vaulted roof, “oot wi’ the kegs. Haste ye, man.”

“’Tis Big Swankie,” whispered Ruby.

“There’s nae hurry,” objected the other fisherman, who, we need scarcely inform the reader, was our friend, Davy Spink.

“Nae hurry!” repeated his comrade angrily. “That’s aye yer cry. Half o’ oor ventures hae failed because ye object to hurry.”

“Hoot, man! that’s enough o’t,” said Spink, in the nettled tone of a man who has been a good deal worried. Indeed, the tones of both showed that these few sentences were but the continuation of a quarrel which had begun elsewhere.

“It’s plain to me that we must pairt, freen’,” said Swankie in a dogged manner, as he lifted a keg out of the boat and placed it on the ground.

“Ay,” exclaimed Spink, with something of a sneer, “an’ d’ye think I’ll pairt without a diveesion o’ the siller tea-pots and things that ye daurna sell for fear o’ bein’ fund out?”

“I wonder ye dinna claim half o’ the jewels and things as weel,” retorted Swankie; “ye hae mair right to them, seein’ ye had a hand in findin’ them.”

“Me a hand in findin’ them,” exclaimed Spink, with sudden indignation. “Was it me that fand the deed body o’ the auld man on the Bell Rock? Na, na, freend. I hae naething to do wi’ deed men’s jewels.”

“Have ye no?” retorted the other. “It’s strange, then, that ye should entertain such sma’ objections to deed men’s siller.”

“Weel-a-weel, Swankie, the less we say on thae matters the better. Here, tak’ haud o’ the tither keg.”

The conversation ceased at this stage abruptly. Evidently each had touched on the other’s weak point, so both tacitly agreed to drop the subject.

Presently Big Swankie took out a flint and steel, and proceeded to strike a light. It was some some time before the tinder would catch. At each stroke of the steel a shower of brilliant sparks lit up his countenance for an instant, and this momentary glance showed that its expression was not prepossessing by any means.

Ruby drew Minnie farther into the recess which concealed them, and awaited the result with some anxiety, for he felt that the amount of knowledge with which he had become possessed thus unintentionally, small though it was, was sufficient to justify the smugglers in regarding him as a dangerous enemy.

He had scarcely drawn himself quite within the shadow of the recess, when Swankie succeeded in kindling a torch, which filled the cavern with a lurid light, and revealed its various forms, rendering it, if possible, more mysterious and unearthly than ever.

“Here, Spink,” cried Swankie, who was gradually getting into better humour, “haud the light, and gie me the spade.”

“Ye better put them behind the rock, far in,” suggested Spink.

The other seemed to entertain this idea for a moment, for he raised the torch above his head, and, advancing into the cave, carefully examined the rocks at the inner end.

Step by step he drew near to the place where Ruby and Minnie were concealed, muttering to himself, as he looked at each spot that might possibly suit his purpose, “Na, na, the waves wad wash the kegs oot o’ that if it cam’ on to blaw.”

He made another step forward, and the light fell almost on the head of Ruby, who felt Minnie’s arm tremble. He clenched his hands with that feeling of resolve that comes over a man when he has made up his mind to fight.

Just then an exclamation of surprise escaped from his comrade.

“Losh! man, what have we here?” he cried, picking up a small object that glittered in the light.

Minnie’s heart sank, for she could see that the thing was a small brooch which she was in the habit of wearing in her neckerchief, and which must have been detached when Ruby carried her into the cave.

She felt assured that this would lead to their discovery; but it had quite the opposite effect, for it caused Swankie to turn round and examine the trinket with much curiosity.

A long discussion as to how it could have come there immediately ensued between the smugglers, in the midst of which a wavelet washed against Swankie’s feet, reminding him that the tide was rising, and that he had no time to lose.

“There’s nae place behint the rocks,” said he quickly, putting the brooch in his pocket, “so we’ll just hide the kegs amang the stanes. Lucky for us that we got the rest o’ the cargo run ashore at Auchmithie. This’ll lie snugly here, and we’ll pull past the leftenant, who thinks we havena seen him, with oor heeds up and oor tongues in oor cheeks.”

They both chuckled heartily at the idea of disappointing the preventive officer, and while one held the torch the other dug a hole in the beach deep enough to contain the two kegs.