Half an hour later the ship began to get under way. She made her exit from the cave without accident of any kind, though her sides scraped the rock in passing.
Dare and Ben sat waiting to be set free, or at least to receive some kind of notice from Pierre. But the ship had been at sea an hour before they were given attention. When they were far enough away from the cave to prevent their discovering even by hazardous guessing where it was situated, one of the crew unlocked the door and summoned them to appear before Pierre, who was waiting for them in the cabin.
Pierre did not waste any time in discussion, but went straight to the point in no uncertain way.
"You two know the smuggling game, eh?" he demanded.
"Well, cap'n—" Ben began to quibble.
"Say yes or no, hang you!" interrupted Pierre.
"Well then, it's yes."
"I thought as much. You know the business we're running, it seems. Now look here, I've got a proposition to make to you. I'm going to run two more cargoes in the next ten days or so. I'm two men short. I'll ship you two and pay you three times ordinary wages and a bonus for the two trips."
Ben and Dare were both so amazed at this unexpected turn in the situation that they could only stand and stupidly regard their gaoler.
"Well?" demanded Pierre impatiently; "say something, can't you!"
"We hardly knows what to say, cap'n," said Ben, recovering a little from his surprise. "It's kind of sudden."
"Of course it's sudden. But it needn't take you aback like that. Well, what about it? What's it to be?"
Ben looked at Dare uncertainly, while Dare stared at him. They were both puzzled as to what were Pierre's intentions. Those intentions should have been fairly obvious. Pierre wanted to keep them under his personal supervision until he had finished running the big cargoes which were to herald a temporary cessation in the trade. The easiest way of doing that was to keep them on board voluntarily. But he was quite capable of keeping them on board against their will if they did not consent to accept the offer he made them.
So confused were Ben and Dare at the sudden proposition that they did not think of this obvious reason for it. They were hopelessly puzzled as to Pierre's designs, and could only consider if it would be to their advantage to pledge themselves to stay on board. If they did they stood a chance of finding out where the cave and the cache it led to were situated. But they might not get an opportunity to utilize their knowledge until the cargoes were run, and thus the opportunity of taking Pierre and his crew red-handed would be lost, at least for some time.
On the other hand, if they refused the offer and went back to Saltern with such knowledge as they had, they might, by a close inspection of the coast from Saltern to Point Day, make the discovery of the cave's whereabouts in a few days and then be free to plan the coup that would end in the smugglers' capture.
It was true the coast had been searched many times already without result, but with their special knowledge the task would be much more likely to yield success.
Those thoughts passed swiftly through their minds as Pierre sat impatiently waiting for their decision. Dare was inclined to stay on board, as that would be likely to yield the greatest amount of excitement, but Ben, with an eye to the main chance, was governed by his cautious instincts, and as it was he who was in charge he voiced their decision.
"If it's all the same to you, cap'n, we're much obleeged, but we'd like to leave at St. Pierre."
The captain's face clouded.
"Think again," he warned them harshly. "I'd advise you to accept my offer and save trouble. I'm giving you your chance."
A chance he was giving them certainly, but not much choice, for his manner dictated their final decision. Ben opened his eyes a little at the veiled threat, and began to understand a little better Pierre's intentions and the reason for them. This caused him to reverse his former decision without hesitation, for although Pierre as yet had not dealt in extremes, Ben felt him capable of doing so if thwarted.
"Of course, cap'n," he said cringingly, "of course, if it's a favour to yourself and if you're wishin' it strongly, we'll sign on and be glad of the chance."
"I'm doing more than wishing it. I'm telling you to do it."
"Well then, cap'n, we will."
"You're wise," said Pierre with that sardonic note in his voice that he could call up so easily; but he looked a little pleased none the less. The decision saved time and trouble.
"Then that's all right," he added. "You'll be a lot better off in pocket and perhaps in other ways. Now you can go for'ard and turn in with the rest of the crew. The mate will show you there. But no talking to the crew, you understand."
"Aye," said Ben, and Dare nodded in agreement.
Pierre then called down the mate, a rough, hard-looking case who regarded the new recruits in no over-friendly manner. His name was Hines, and he acknowledged their existence with a baleful glare. He respectfully inclined his head toward Pierre, however, while the latter explained Dare and Ben's new status on board. Evidently Pierre was held in something like awe by his subordinates. Hines, having taken his orders, turned to leave the cabin. "Now then, you two!" he snarled in a thoroughly ill-humoured way, and Ben and Dare falling to heel were led for'ard.
The fo'c'sle was in semi-darkness, and those of the crew not on watch were asleep in their berths. Hines pointed out a narrow, coffin-like space in which there was only a straw-stuffed mattress.
"That'll have to do for the two of you," he said. "We're more than full-up here already. You can git blankets when we reaches St. Pierre."
With those words he left them. They watched him go, then turned to their berth. There was no chance of talking without being overheard, so the only thing to do was sleep. As they had not slept for twenty-four hours they found it possible to find forgetfulness even in such an uncomfortable bed, and they did not wake to reality till late in the morning.
Dare was the first to stir. He woke to find himself in unfamiliar surroundings. The smell of frying fish assailed his nostrils, and the grumblings of the crew struggling out of their berths filled his ears. To his surprise the schooner was stationary. So far as he could determine they were once more at St. Pierre.
Excited by this possibility and interested beyond everything in his surroundings, he sprang lightly out of his berth on to the fo'c'sle floor.
The others of the crew who were stirring regarded him curiously.
"It's the feller we runned down last night," said one. "Where's the old one?" asked another. "There in his berth," was the reply.
Dare felt somewhat embarrassed at being discussed as though he were not present. The crew had none of his sensitiveness, however, and what they didn't know they proceeded to ask about until they were in possession of an expurgated account of the circumstances attending the arrival of the two in the fo'c'sle.
Their curiosity satisfied they sat down to the table, and the cook, a Frenchman, bearded, stout, and as far removed in cleanliness and skill from the conventional idea of a French chef as can be imagined, served them.
Dare roused Ben, who woke in full possession of his wits and proceeded immediately to meet the crew on their own ground of familiarity. The cook pointed out two places which they were told to take, and they breakfasted with the others.
Silence hung over the table—that is, a conversational silence—until all food in the immediate vicinity had been consumed. Then some of the men went on deck. Others returned to their berths.
Ben questioned the cook, who was not averse to gossip, as to the hour of their arrival, and discovered that they had arrived at St. Pierre at five o'clock, and that it was now ten.
"Didn't hear a sound," confessed Ben. "Dog-tired we was, both of us. You fellers nearly made us food fer the fishes last night."
"Tiens!" said the cook. "An' your boat, she has give me the one fright. Mon Dieu, it was to think the ship she was killed!"
"Well, all's well that ends well," said Ben soothingly. "What say if we goes on deck?" he added to Dare.
Dare jumped at the suggestion and made for the companion-way. Ben followed him.
Those of the crew who were on deck were idly smoking and gossiping, overlooked by the mate who, seated on the cabin roof, was keeping an officious eye on both ship and men.
Ben led the way casually to the rail near the break-deck, where they were fairly well isolated, and seating himself, motioned to Dare to follow his example.
"Well, here we are," he said, keeping his voice as low as possible.
"Yes."
"And no choice but to be here. You don't doubt that after what he said last night?"
"No," replied Dare. "There was nothing else to do. Anyone could see with half an eye that he was going to keep us on board whether we wanted to stay or not."
"Aye. The cap'n wouldn't be easy if he knowed," Ben stated.
"There's no need for him to know until we see this thing through."
"I s'pose not. We'll have to send him one of them O.K. telegrams to-morrer."
"Yes. I'd write him also if he could do anything with the information we can give him. But as he's laid up there's not much use. It would only worry him. We'll wait till we know more and he can get about. That ought to be in ten days or so. I can't see us staying on board this craft after we once know what we want to know, can you?"
"No," admitted Ben. "Once we finds out fer sure where that cave is and gets a chance to make a break, we're off fer Saltern."
"There's the crew getting out the boat," said Dare after a short pause in their conversation. "We might ask to go ashore too."
"We'll do that," agreed Ben, and walked aft to solicit shore leave of the mate.
"Go ashore?" growled that individual. "No, you can't. Not by a long shot."
"This afternoon, p'r'aps?" suggested Ben with appropriate humility.
"No, nor then."
"Well, to-morrer?"
"No, nor to-morrer, nor the next day. See?"
"No, I don't see," said Ben. "Who give them orders, if I might ask?"
"The capting, that's who. If you wants to go ashore you can whistle yourself there. My orders is to keep you on board and in sight till we sails again."
Ben, considerably discomfited by this information, rejoined Dare and told him what had taken place.
"We might have expected it!" said Dare. "He's not taking any chances."
"Aye. But this don't make things more easy fer us. Why, we can't even wire the cap'n O.K. or send him a note. Looks like it ain't goin' to be as easy to leave this one as we thought."
"We'll leave her when we've got a mighty good reason for doing so, don't you fret, Ben," said Dare, who considered that Pierre had contracted one more debt that would have to be paid with interest. "As for sending a cable to father, we might find some way of doing that yet. We'll have to use our brains. We can't let this bunch get the better of us."
"One thing's certain," growled Ben; "that feller Pierre is goin' to get a big surprise one of these days. If I ever meets him alone on a dark night—— The high-handedness of that feller is beyond belief. I'm goin' to tackle him when he comes on deck to know what he means by keepin' us shut up like chickens in a coop."
"Best not to make trouble," said Dare.
"I'm not goin' to make trouble. I'm only goin' to protest. Come to that, it wouldn't seem natural to him if I didn't."
But he got no chance of protesting to Pierre that day. The captain had already gone ashore and he did not return, but spent the night on land. About noon the next day, however, he came on board and was closeted for a long time with the mate. When he appeared on deck it was once more to go ashore. Ben had the temerity to intercept him as he was about to board the waiting boat.
"What's this, cap'n, about me and the boy not bein' allowed to go ashore?" he asked.
Pierre turned on him shortly. "Don't bother me with your troubles," he said. "Take your orders from the mate."
"But, cap'n——" began Ben in protest.
Pierre, impatient, unexpectedly struck out with his clenched fist, and as Ben landed his length in the scuppers he said: "Do I have to tell you twice, curse you! Take your orders from the mate."
Ben got to his feet, his hand feeling at his damaged jaw, and rejoined Dare, rage eating at his heart.
They did not make the mistake of asking for leave again, but waited their opportunity to go ashore without leave. The opportunity did not arrive, however. They found themselves kept under close surveillance. The mate or one of the crew unostentatiously shadowed their every movement.
When two days passed and they failed to escape the vigilance of the crew even for sufficient time to hail a passing boat, they began to get anxious. Captain Stanley, they knew, if he did not receive a cable in another day or so, would become alarmed and might make inquiries in St. Pierre which would wreck their plans and might very conceivably endanger their position.
On the fourth day in port they began to load again, and the talk for'ard was that they would be leaving on the night of the sixth. There had been no confidential exchanges between Ben and Dare and the rest of the crew. Evidently the latter had been warned, for whenever Ben or Dare endeavoured casually to bring the conversation round to the subject of the Mary's activities, an uncompromising silence settled down.
They finished loading on the day they began taking cargo. After supper that evening Ben, smoking a pipe on deck, admitted to himself the hopelessness of trying to get into communication with Captain Stanley.
At that time of day the harbour was dotted with row-boats pulling to the quays, containing ships' crews bound ashore for a night's jollification. One such passed close to the Mary, where Ben was in sole possession of the deck, though a wisp of tobacco smoke, rising above the cabin shutter, showed that the vigilant mate was not far away.
Ben eyed the boat as he had eyed every boat which had passed the ship for days, in the hope that it might contain some person known to him and that some way would be found to get a message sent to the captain. As before he was disappointed. He knew no one in the boat, and therefore had no reason to hail her except for the purpose of asking for a lift ashore, and that was not possible while the mate was within earshot. To his surprise, however, he was hailed by one of the men in the boat, which contained four persons.
"That you, Ben? How goes it?"
At the sound of voices the mate came running on deck. He approached near enough to Ben to hear all that passed between him and the men in the boat. Ben, ignoring his presence, singled out the man who had hailed him and after a few seconds remembered him as an old shipmate.
"You Ames?" he called out. "What you doin' here?"
"We just got in from Lisbon. Bound to Saltern with salt. What you doin'?"
"Coastin' a bit."
"Goin' ashore?"
"Not the night. Might see you to-morrer."
"We sails in the morning."
"Too bad. Well, drink one fer me. And remember me to all old hands you see."
The boat then passed on, and the mate, after a suspicious look at Ben, went back to his seat in the companion-way.
Ben was delighted with the chance meeting and the opportunity it had given him of getting word to the captain. For Ames was bound to meet Captain Stanley in his official capacity at Saltern, and the captain, knowing him to have come from St. Pierre and to be an old shipmate of Ben's, would be sure to question him.
Ben turned to go below to inform Dare of the fortuitous incident, but before he could do so Dare came on deck. Ben saw from his face that something out of the ordinary had happened, and he kept back his own news till he had heard Dare's.
"What is it?" he asked.
Dare was labouring under great excitement.
"Ben, I've found out about the oven. You'll never guess. It's the cave!"
Ben was more bewildered than surprised.
"The oven ... the cave?" he repeated.
Dare explained in detail.
"While I was lying down the sailors began to talk. They didn't mind me, apparently. They talked about sailing to-morrow night and one of them said he hoped the water would be smoother than the last time they were at the Oven. The cave is called the Oven, it seems. That's what that fellow on board the Glenbow meant. And Ben! I think I know where it is. One of the men mentioned the Table. He said it was a nuisance and that some time the Mary would break her back on it in making the cave. Well, the Table is a queer, flat-topped rock. I heard the dad mention it by name when he talked about how he had inspected the coast. It's less than a mile from Saltern!"
Dare's excitement did not exceed Ben's once that worthy had fully grasped the value of the discovery.
"We got to get away from here as soon as we can," he said. "We got to get away before the Mary sails and find some way of sendin' word to the cap'n."
"Absolutely!" agreed Dare. "We'll try for it early in the morning."
But they did not. At nine o'clock that same night Pierre came aboard in a great hurry. In a moment the news spread that the Mary would sail that night ... immediately. And half an hour later the schooner was nosing her way out of the harbour.