"I tell ye wot it is, Jeph," said Bluenose, with emphasis, "you'll do it yet; if you don't I'll eat my sou'-wester without sauce, so I will. As the noospapers says, you'll inaggerate a new era in lifeboats, old boy, that's a fact, and I'll live to see it too!"

Having delivered himself of this opinion in tones of much fervour, the captain delivered his mouth of a series of cloudlets, and gazed through them at his old friend with unfeigned admiration.

Guy and Bax were both impressed with the partial success of the experiment, as well as with Jeph's idea, and said to him, encouragingly, that he had very near hit it, but Jeph himself only shook his head and smiled sadly.

"Lads," said he, "_very near_ is sometimes a long way farther off than folk suppose. Perpetual motion has bin _very nearly_ discovered ever since men began to try their hands at engineerin', but it ain't discovered yet, nor never will be--'cause why? it ain't possible."

"Ain't poss'ble!" echoed Bluenose, "you're out there, old man. I diskivered it, years ago. Just you go up to Sandhill Cottage, and inquire for one Mrs Laker, a hupright and justifiable sister o' mine.

Open that 'ooman's mouth an' look in (she won't bite if ye don't bother her too much), and lyin' in that there cavern ye'll see a thing called a _tongue_,--if that ain't an engine of perpetooal motion, shiver my timbers! that's all."

Just as the captain made this reckless offer to sacrifice his timbers, Peekins--formerly the blue tiger--entered the hovel, and going hastily to Bluenose, whispered in his ear.

A very remarkable transformation had taken place in the outward man of poor Peekins. After coming with Bax to Deal he had been adopted, as it were, by the co-partners of the hovel, and was, so to speak, shared equally by Bax, Bluenose, old Jeph, and Tommy. The wonderfully thin and spider-like appearance which he presented in his blue-tights and b.u.t.tons on his arrival, created such a howl of derisive astonishment among the semi-nautical boys of Deal, that his friends became heartily ashamed of him. Bax, therefore, walked him off at once to a slop-shop, where sea-stores of every possible or conceivable kind could be purchased at reasonable prices, from a cotton kerchief, with the Union Jack in the middle of it, to the old anchor of a seventy-four gun ship, with a wooden stock big enough to make a canoe.

Here Peekins was disrobed of his old garments, and clad in canvas trousers, pilot-cloth jacket and vest, with capacious pockets, and a sou'-wester; all of which fitted him so loosely that he felt persuaded in his own mind he could easily have jumped out of them with an upward bound, or have slipped out of them downwards through either leg of the pantaloons. He went into that store a blue spider, he came out a reasonable-looking seafaring boy, rather narrow and sloping about the shoulders, it is true, but smart enough and baggy enough--especially about the nether garments--to please even Bax, who, in such matters, was rather fastidious.

The whispered communication, above referred to, had the effect of causing Bluenose to spring up from the coil of rope, and exclaim--"You don't say so!"

Then, checking himself, and looking mysterious, he said he wanted to have a word with Bax in private, and would be obligated if he'd go with him a bit along sh.o.r.e.

"Well, what's the news?" inquired Bax, when they were alone.

"We've heerd of Long Orrick," said Bluenose, eagerly.

"That's not much news," said Bax; "you told me there wasn't enough witnesses to swear to him, or something o' that sort, and that it would be no use attempting to put him in limbo, didn't you?"

"Ay," replied the other, striking his clenched right hand into the palm of his left, "but the villain don't the less deserve to be tied up, and get twelve dozen for all that. I'd content myself with knocking out both his daylights for his cowardly attempt to badger an old man, but that wouldn't be safe; besides, I know'd well enough he'd take to smugglin' again, an' soon give us a chance to nab him at his old tricks; so Coleman and I have been keepin' a look-out on him; and we've found that small yard o' pump-water, Peekins, oncommon clever in the way o'

watchin'. He's just brought me word that he heard Long Orrick talkin'

with his chum Rodney Nick, an' plannin' to run their lugger to-night into Pegwell Bay, as the coast at the Fiddler's Cave would be too well watched; so I'm goin' down to Fiddler's Cave to-night, and I wants you to go with me. We'll get Coleman to help us, for he's savage to get hold of Long Orrick ever since the night they put him in a sack, an'

left him to air his timbers in the Great Chapel Field."

"But if," said Bax, "Long Orrick said he would run to Pegwell Bay, which is three or four miles to the nor'ard o' this, and resolved that he would _not_ go to Fiddler's Cave, which is six miles to the s'uth'ard, why should you go to the very place he's not likely to be found at?"

"Because I knows the man," replied Bluenose, with a wink of deep meaning; "I knows him better than you do. W'en Long Orrick is seen bearin' away due north with flying colours, you may take your Davy that his true course lies south, or thereby."

Bax smiled, and suggested that they should take Guy Foster with them, and when Tommy Bogey heard what they were about he volunteered his services, which were accepted laughingly. Being of a sociable disposition, Tommy deemed it prudent to press Peekins into the service, and Peekins, albeit not pugnacious by nature, was quite willing and ready to follow wherever his st.u.r.dy little friend chose to lead.

So they all set off, along the road that skirts the beach, towards Saint Margaret's Bay. The sun was just sinking as they started, and the red clouds were beginning to deepen in their colour and look ominous, though the sea was still quiet and clear like a sheet of gla.s.s.

After following the road for some time, they diverged into the footpath that leads to, and winds along the giddy edge of, the chalk cliffs which rise abruptly from the sh.o.r.e at this part of the Kentish coast to the height of several hundred feet.

The path being narrow, they were obliged to walk in single file, Bax leading, Bluenose and Guy following, and Tommy with his meek friend bringing up the rear.

The view seawards was indescribably magnificent from the elevated ridge along which they hastened. The Downs was crowded with hundreds of vessels of every form and size, as well as of every country, all waiting for a favourable breeze to enable them to quit the roadstead and put to sea. Pilot luggers and other sh.o.r.e-boats of various kinds were moving about among these; some on the look-out for employment, others intent on doing a stroke of business in the smuggling way, if convenient. Far away along the beach men of the coastguard might be seen, like little black specks, with telescopes actively employed, ready to pounce on and overhaul (more or less stringently according to circ.u.mstances) every boat that touched the shingle. Everything in nature seemed silent and motionless, with the exception of the sea-mews that wheeled round the summits of the cliffs or dived into the gla.s.sy sea.

All these things were noted and appreciated in various degrees by the members of the party who hastened towards Saint Margaret's Bay, but none of them commented much on the scenery. They were too well accustomed to the face of nature in every varying mood to be much struck with her face on the present occasion. Perhaps we may except Guy Foster, who, being more of a city man than his companions, besides being more highly educated, was more deeply impressed by what he saw that evening. But Guy was too much absorbed by the object of the expedition to venture any remark on the beautiful aspect of nature.

"D'ye see that lugger, Bax?" said Bluenose, pointing to a particular spot on the sea.

"Between the Yankee and the Frenchman?" said Bax, "I see it well enough.

What then?"

"That's Long Orrick's boat," replied the Captain, "I'd know it among a thousand. Depend on it we'll nab him to-night with a rich cargo of baccy and brandy a-board. The two B's are too much for him. He'd sell his soul for baccy and brandy."

"That's not such an uncommon weakness as you seem to think," observed Guy. "Every day men sell their souls for more worthless things."

"D'ye think so?" said Bluenose, with a philosophical twist in his eyebrows.

"I know it," returned Guy; "men often sell both body and soul (as far as we can judge) for a mere idea."

Here Bax, who had been examining the lugger in question with a pocket-telescope, said that he had no doubt whatever Bluenose was right, and hastened forward at a smarter pace than before.

In less than two hours they descended the steep cliffs to the shingle of Saint Margaret's Bay; and at the same time the wind began to rise, while the shades of night gradually overspread the scene.

Saint Margaret's Bay is one of those small, quiet, secluded hamlets which are not unfrequently met with along our coasts, and in regard to which the stranger is irresistibly led to ask mentally, if not really, "Why did people ever come to build cottages and dwell here, and what do they do? How do they make a livelihood?"

No stranger ever obtains a satisfactory answer to these questions, for the very good reason that, short though they be, the answers to them would involve almost a volume, or a speech equal in length to that with which the Chancellor of the Exchequer introduces his annual budget.

There would be various cla.s.ses to describe, numerous wants to apprehend, peculiar circ.u.mstances and conditions of social life to explain; in short, the thing is a mystery to many, and we merely remark on the fact, without having any intention of attempting to clear the mystery away.

So narrow is the strip of shingle that lies between the sea and the cliffs in Saint Margaret's Bay, that the cottages have been built close up to the latter--much too close, we venture to think, for safety; but perhaps men who live in constant peril of their lives, count the additional risk of being crushed along with their families under twenty or thirty tons of chalk, unworthy of consideration!

On descending to the beach the first thing our party saw was the burly figure of Coleman seated on his "donkey" by the "sad sea waves."

It must not be supposed that the coast-guard-man was literally astride of a live a.s.s! No; his "donkey" was an exceedingly ingenious contrivance invented specially for the use of a cla.s.s of men who, being human, cannot avoid becoming fatigued--yet who, being sentinels, must not on any account whatever be permitted to encourage sleep.

The men of the coast-guard are subject to prolonged and frequent periods of watching, by night as well as by day, hence they are liable to become wearied. It has been wisely considered that the most self-denying mortal alive will, when hard pressed, sit down on a rock or on the ground, if need be, just to relieve his legs a little. The same wise consideration has recalled the fact that when men do this they become helplessly incapable of resisting the drowsy G.o.d, and will a.s.suredly go to sleep, against their will and their judgment.

To meet this case, some truly great mind invented the "donkey." This contrivance is simply a stool with _one_ leg. The top of the stool is not round, but oblong, and very small. A hole in the centre receives the solitary leg, which is attached to it by a piece of cord, and can be pulled out when occasion requires, and the machine thrown over the arm as one would throw a cloak or scarf. The beauty of the donkey is, that it forms an excellent seat on which a man can balance himself and rest with great comfort as long as he keeps awake; but should he fall asleep, even for one instant, he infallibly comes to the ground with a shock so severe that he is quite certain to remain wakeful during the remainder of his vigil!

"What, ho! Coleman," cried Bax, as he and his friends drew near, "have you actually acquired the art of sleeping on a donkey?"

Coleman rose and turned round with a good-humoured smile on his ruddy visage:

"Nay, not quite that," said he, "but the hiss of the waves is apt to dull the hearin' a bit, an' one don't naturally look for enemies from land'ard, d'ye see?"

"Mayhap not," said Bluenose, taking a fresh quid of tobacco out of a bra.s.s box which he carried at all times in his waistcoat pocket; "but I expect an enemy from seaward to-night who'll be oncommon glad to make your acquaintance, no doubt!"

Here the Captain chuckled, engulfed his fresh quid, and proceeded to explain the nature of their errand. Having done so, he asked Coleman what he thought of it.

The worthy coast-guard-man scratched his nose and stared at the shingle for some minutes before venturing to reply.

"I think," said he at length, "that we'll cook his goose to-night; that's wot it is."

Coleman paused, and looked thoughtfully at Bluenose. The Captain nodded his head pleasantly, but said nothing, and Coleman proceeded:--

"He'll come in with the flood-tide no doubt, if the gale don't drive him in sooner, an' run ash.o.r.e as near to the cave as possible; but he'll be scared away if he sees anything like unusual watchin' on the sh.o.r.e, so you'd better get out o' sight as fast as ye can, and keep there."

"Don't you think it would be as well that you also should keep out of sight, and so leave the coast clear for him?" suggested Bax.