CHAPTER VIII
THE SECRET HARBOUR
Ben and Dare found themselves in complete darkness. Their surprise at their sudden imprisonment robbed them of speech for the moment, then found expression.
"Here's a mess!" exclaimed Ben.
Dare nodded, then remembered that Ben could not see him in the dark. "We might have expected something like this," he said.
"Well, there'll be a reckoning, no fear of that," growled Ben angrily.
"So long as it's a reckoning we don't have to pay, I don't mind," said Dare, for Pierre's personality had impressed him and he could not help remembering the summary treatment handed out to his father.
"Never a fear. It won't be us who'll pay. Keep up your pecker, Mr. Dare."
"Not so loud, Ben," warned Dare in a whisper. "We don't know if anyone can hear us or not."
"Aye, that's so. A word in season. Well, we won't stay in the dark anyhow; I've got some matches."
Striking one of them, he looked round for a lamp. One was discovered hanging over the bed. It took only a moment to light it. By its glow they were enabled to examine more completely the room in which they were confined.
It had but one outlet: the door through which they had entered. One side of the room gave upon the hold; the other three walls were formed by the side of the ship and two strong partitions. The door was of mahogany and too strong to be forced. There were perforations above it, but that was the only way air could get in or out, for there was no port-hole or fanlight.
"As watertight as a coffin," was Ben's estimate of their quarters. "We'll get out when he's a mind to let us out, and not before." He tried the door, just to substantiate his estimate of its solidity. It did not budge.
"Well, here we are," he declared philosophically, and sat down on the bed.
Dare followed his example. Their minds went back simultaneously to the moment of the accident.
"We found the Mary all right," said Ben grimly, "but I never thought we'd learn where she was like we did."
"I happened to look to the leeward," said Dare, "and I saw her on top of us, I gave a shout."
"Aye, I heard it just before the crash. I was wellnigh throwed overboard by the shock. But it so happened that when I flung out me hand I found the Mary's bob-stay, and hung on to it. Our boat sunk in two minutes."
"She must have been cut right in half," said Dare.
"Aye."
They both considered their marvellous escape for a few minutes, then relegated it to the back of their minds as a subject for future discussion. There were other things to be considered now.
"I don't think there's any suspicion as to who we are," whispered Dare close to Ben's ear.
"Nary a bit," agreed Ben. "You noticed how quick he was to believe we was smugglers like hisself?"
"Yes. You did that well. First and last you've had to tell a lot of whoppers, Ben."
"Ah, sure, they is not black lies, they is just white lies. There's no one goin' to think the worse of me fer them."
"Not at all. I wonder what's going to happen now."
"There's no sayin'. Dear knows what he wouldn't do if he got an inklin' of our business."
Dare agreed. "We've got to try and get more in his confidence," he said.
"That'll take some doin'."
Their conversation was interrupted suddenly by the hurrying of feet overhead and the distinct roar of breakers.
"Heavens! he's driving her ashore!" exclaimed Dare.
"He's certainly taking her near the land," admitted Ben anxiously.
They listened to the light, running footsteps overhead. Except for that sound, considerably deadened by the roar of the breakers, no other noise reached their ears. The Mary was making port with a minimum of disturbance on board. Dare and Ben tried to visualize the conditions of the ship's approach to the land, but only succeeded in being puzzled. They were off a straight and precipitous coast intersected here and there by coves, but so far as they knew with nothing in the way of a harbour. Yet here was the Mary practically among the breakers, and still going ahead! It seemed that there was a secret harbour of some sort. Otherwise, how account for the schooner's nearness to the shore?—unless Pierre had overestimated his distance from the land and had suddenly found his ship among the breakers. But that event would surely have produced more alarm and accompanying noise than was evidenced on deck now.
Their puzzled thoughts found expression. "Why did they lower the masts, Ben? You heard the order. It's strange for a boat this size to have masts that can be lowered at will, isn't it?"
"Aye. And why wait for low water, when low water means there'll only be a few inches under her keel?"
"It's as if they had to go under something...."
"Mr. Dare!" exclaimed Ben, "you've hit on the very thing. They're goin' under somethin'; somethin' that's not very high and therefore has to be gone under at the lowest tide possible!"
There seemed indeed reason to believe that Dare had discovered the solution of the puzzle.
"Aye, that's the question. I can't begin to think of what. It passes belief or understandin' when you thinks of the coast we're on."
The roar of the breakers suddenly increased. At the same moment there came a decided bump of the vessel's keel as it touched bottom. For a wild moment Dare and Ben thought the ship lost and visualized themselves being drowned like rats in a trap. Then the ship floated tranquilly again....
And then, with only the previous roar of the breakers for warning, there broke upon their ears a perfect pandemonium of sound. Even in their retreat they had to raise their voices to be heard above it. It was as if immense copper gongs were being beaten with giant hammers of steel.
It took Dare and Ben several minutes to recover their equanimity.
Then Ben burst into excited speech.
"We're in a cave!" he shouted. "We're in a cave! That's the sea breakin', that sound we hears. Of all things! Would you believe it!"
Dare willingly believed it. There was no other adequate explanation. The cave would act as an enormous sound-box with super-acoustic properties, and the waves breaking against its rocky walls would echo in its vaulted roof until the sound emanating from them would be increased a thousandfold, developing into the din of an inferno. But a cave large enough to harbour a schooner of sixty tons! It did not seem feasible. If it existed it would surely be too well known to make a safe base for the smugglers. Yet——
"I believe you're right, Ben," said Dare, "but I can't conceive a cave like that."
"Aye, it must be a big one. An' to think we passed close to this coast and didn't see it! Hallo!" he added, "they're takin' off the hatches. And listen, you can hear shoutin'."
It seemed that with the entering of the secret harbour all caution was thrown aside, so sure were the smugglers of the safety of their retreat. There were shouts from many throats echoing in the vault in which the ship lay, sounding above the terrific clamour as the shrill cries of the seagulls sound above a great storm. Accompanying the shouts were the creak of tackle and the noise of the cargo being dumped on deck. There was great activity in the hold, separated from them by a single stout partition, and voices speaking French and English reached their ears.
There seemed to be a score of men; certainly many more than the ship carried as crew. Dare and Ben's curiosity grew almost beyond bounds. They would have given anything to be on deck, witnessing what was going on. If they remained imprisoned while the ship was in the cave they would be no wiser as to its position on the coast than before they entered it.
Ben threw his bulk against the locked door once or twice, more as a result of impatience than in the belief that he could force an exit through it. Then he desisted.
They sat for some time, half an hour or so, listening to the feverish activity centring about the ship. Then, so unexpectedly as to startle them, there came the sound of the key being turned in the lock. The door opened and Pierre once more stood before them. Neither Ben nor Dare moved. Pierre entered the room, closed the door, and placed his back against it, smiling sardonically the while.
"High-handed actions, cap'n," said Ben at last.
"It was necessary," returned Pierre frankly. "I couldn't have you coming on deck at the moment of making harbour. I'm on private business, you understand; that's why I've been puzzled what to do with you. Now I've made up my mind. You'll have to come back to St. Pierre with me."
"It's as you say, cap'n," Ben agreed, hardly able to hide his relief and satisfaction. "We're seemin'ly at your mercy. I reckon you'll pay for the boat?"
"I'll pay as I promised," said Pierre; "seventy-five dollars. You'll get it when I put you ashore, and I'll expect you to keep your mouth shut in the bargain."
"You can count on that, cap'n. I'm no tale-bearer. Sure, you could land your liquor and tobaccy in broad daylight as far as I'm concerned."
Pierre did not look so startled as this revelation of Ben's knowledge of his business would have caused one to expect. He seemed to think temporizing necessary, however.
"Liquor and tobacco!" he said. "What are you talking about?"
The pretence was vain.
"Sure, cap'n, I can smell both a mile away, and this boat stinks of them," declared Ben boldly.
There certainly was a distinct odour of both in the cabin. The fact had to be recognized, though not explained, as far as Pierre was concerned, even if indirectly he acknowledged its existence.
"Well, what about it?"
"Nothin'," said Ben. "We knows what we knows. I've done the same on a smaller scale in me time."
Pierre said nothing for a moment or two, but eyed them thoughtfully, as though once more in doubt as to the best way to handle the situation.
"This makes a difference," he said at last; "but I've no time to talk to you now. There's work for me on deck."
Then, with the same swift movements which had characterized his entrance, he let himself out of the room, once more locking the door behind him.
"Now you've gone and done it!" declared Dare ruefully.
"How so?" asked Ben.
"Why, do you think he's going to be as easy with us now that we've as good as told him we know he's a smuggler?"
"Why not? He must have known we guessed there was something funny in the wind or he wouldn't have asked us to keep our mouths shut."
"Nevertheless, I don't see why you wanted to make him certain we knew."
"I thought it best to be open," explained Ben. "If we'd pretended we didn't smell somethin' fishy he might have suspected we wasn't on the square with him. Never a fear, we won't lose by that. One thing, he'll be open with us now."
Dare looked dubious and paced up and down the confined space at their disposal. He eyed their quarters moodily, his gaze wandering from the bed to the charts on the walls, the bare floor, and the one chair and desk. On top of the desk was an assortment of small articles, a few screws, a pair of compasses, a file, a tin of tobacco, a pocket knife, and a key. The latter caught Dare's attention and a surmise rose to his mind. He took the key, regarded it for an instant; then, going to the door, thrust it in the lock. He turned it. It functioned, and the door came open under his grasp.
When this happened Ben, who had been regarding Dare's movements curiously, rose to his feet with an exclamation. Dare turned to him with suppressed eagerness.
"It's open!" he said.
"Aye."
They both stared at the open door thoughtfully, then Ben resumed his sitting posture on the bed.
"You'd better shut it again," he advised.
"Why?"
"What good'll it do us? If we went on deck Pierre would be as mad as blazes and we'd spoil what we've done. Even if we could get away, we don't want to go yet awhile. Not until we knows where this here cave is."
"We could get a look at it now, if we went on deck."
"Too risky. You don't want Pierre to catch you spyin'."
Dare was not to be dissuaded, however. He was fired at the thought of catching a glimpse of the secret harbour and the activity on deck.
"I'm going, anyhow," he said, and after ascertaining that the cabin was empty he slipped out of the room, taking care to shut the door firmly behind him. He stood still in the middle of the cabin for a full minute, then cautiously mounted the ladder leading to the deck. He was facing the taffrail as his head emerged. There was no one in that part of the ship. He summoned sufficient nerve to raise his head high enough above the shutter to view the whole of the scene about him.
The ship, as Ben had surmised, was in a cave. An immense cave it was, vaulted like a cathedral. Huge splinters of rock hung like icicles from its roof, and its walls gleamed black as ebony in the light of immense flares which dotted the ship's deck and rose in tiers high up into the cave, illuminating what Dare guessed to be a rocky stair leading either to the cliff-top or to some inner chamber. Yet so intense was the blackness within the cave that the flares only lit up their immediate vicinity, and deepened the intensity of the darkness outside their bright circles.
There was grandeur in the scene, a grandeur heightened by the great volume of sound which echoed through the cave like the emanations of a gigantic pipe organ with all stops pulled full out. The noise had been immense even when heard in the seclusion of the cabin, but here on deck it was deafening.
The mind rocked under its assault and in Dare it caused a confusion which made the scene partake of the quality of a nightmare. The flitting figures of the crew, each carrying a case and sometimes two on his shoulders, had an air of unreality. Their activities seemed fantastic and their movements queerly mechanical. The cave seemed to hold itself aloof from the use to which it was being put, gloomily voicing continual rumblings which might be interpreted as threats to the invaders, but which served the smugglers as a perfect cloak for their illicit work.
So far as Dare could see there was no beach here. The water ran deep right to the cave's limits, and the ship was lying close against the rock, her side protected by immense rope fenders.
The crew were carrying the cargo up a sloping, winding staircase whose top was lost sight of in the gloom, a narrow, treacherous staircase which it seemed that only goats could safely tread, but which the smugglers mounted with facility.
Dare searched in vain for the entrance to the cave. It was hidden in the gloom, but from the shape of the immense vaulted roof he could imagine it as being little more than a hole in the face of the cliff; a cliff solid in appearance, but hollowed out by some freak of nature.
No wonder the smugglers considered their base as being perfect for their purpose. It was all that Dare had ever conceived a smugglers' cave could be, and more. It was like no smugglers' cave he had ever seen or read of. He was a little awed by it, so strong an impression did its grandeur make on his sensibility.
He crouched in the companion-way, lost to the danger of detection, his whole mind given up to consideration and appreciation of the scene around him. The crew, fortunately, were too occupied to notice so small an object as his head rising above the cabin shutter, even if they had been able to see it in the shadows cast by the rigging.
He remained there, safe from disturbance or discovery, until the sudden emergence of the men from the hold caused him to think that the cargo had been discharged. He caught sight of Pierre and some of the crew making their way aft, and swiftly, with a minimum of noise, he returned to the cabin and Ben's company.