Cutlass and Cudgel — Reading Notes

There was no answer, and he tapped again.

"Beg pardon, sir," began the midshipman.

"Granted! Be off, and don't bother me again."

There was a rustling sound, and a deep-toned breathing, that some rude people would have called a snore. The midshipman looked puzzled, hesitated, and then knocked again.

There came a smothered roar, like that of an angry beast.

"What do you want? Am I never to have a night's rest again?"

All this in smothered tones, as if the speaker was shut up in a cupboard with a blanket over his head.

"Wouldn't have troubled you, sir, but--"

"Smugglers in sight?"

"No, sir; it's a cow."

"Cow, sir, overboard."

"Quite right. Milk and water," came in muffled tones.

"Beg pardon, sir, what shall I do?"

"Go and milk her, and don't bother me."

"But she's swimming under the cliff, sir."

"Go and ask her on board, then. Be off!"

Archy Raystoke knew his commanding officer's ways, and after waiting a few moments, he said softly, after giving a tap or two on the panel--

"Shall I take the boat and get her aboard?"

There was a loud rustle; a bang as if some one had struck the bulkhead with his elbow, and then a voice roared--

"Look here, sir, if you don't be off and let me finish my sleep, I'll let go at you through the door. You're in charge of the deck. Go and do what's right, and don't bother me."

Another blow on the bulkhead, and rustling noise, and, as well as if he had seen it all, Archy knew that his officer had snuggled down under the clothes, and gone to sleep.

But he had the permission, and calling to a couple of the crew, he soon had the small boat in the water, with Dick and another man pulling towards where the cow was slowly swimming here and there, with its wet nose and two horns a very short distance above the surface.

"Now, then, Dick, is it a sea-cow?" cried Archy, as they drew nearer.

"Well, sir, what else can it be?"

"Ah, you obstinate!" cried the lad. "Now, then, what are we going to do? We can't land her," he continued, looking up at the towering cliff, "and, of course, we can't take her in the boat."

"I'll soon manage that," said Dick, leaving his rowing to take up a coil of rope he had thrown into the boat, and make a running noose.

"It's all right, sir. Get this over her horns, and we can tow her alongside, and hyste her on deck in no time."

The cow proved that she was accustomed to man, for, as the boat approached, she swam slowly to meet it, raising her nose a little to utter a loud bellow, as if glad to welcome the help. So quiet and gentle was the poor creature, that there was no difficulty in passing the noose over her horns, making the line fast to a ring-bolt, so as to keep her head well above the surface, and then Dick resumed his oar; and after a glance round to make sure that there was no place where the poor beast could be landed, Archie gave the order for them to row back to where the cutter lay in the bright sunshine, five hundred yards from the shore.

He looked in vain, for at the lowest part the green edge of the cliff was a couple of hundred feet above the level of the sea, and right and left of him the mighty walls of rock rose up, four, five, and even six hundred feet, and for the most part with a sheer descent to the water which washed their feet.

The cow took to her journey very kindly, helping the progress by swimming till they were alongside the cutter, where the men on deck were looking over the low side, and grinning with amusement.

"Pull her horns off, sir!" said Dick, in answer to a question, as he proceeded to pass the rope through a block, "not it."

"But hadn't we better have a line round her?"

"If you want to cut her 'most in two, sir. We'll soon have her on board."

Dick was as good as his word, for the task was easy with a vessel so low in the water as the cutter; and in a few minutes the unfortunate cow was standing dripping on deck.

"Can any one of you men milk?" said Lieutenant Brough, a little plump-looking man, of about five and thirty, as he stood in naval uniform staring at the new addition to His Majesty's cutter _White Hawk_, a well-fed dun cow, which stood steadily swinging her long tail to and fro, where she was tethered to the bulwarks, after vainly trying to make a meal off the well holystoned deck.

There was no reply, the men grinning one at the other, on hearing so novel a question. "Do you men mean to say that not one amongst you can milk?" cried the lieutenant.

No one had spoken; but now, in a half-shrinking foolish way, Dick pulled his forelock, and made a kick out behind.

"You can?" cried the lieutenant, "that's right; get a bucket and milk her. I'll have some for breakfast."

"Didn't say as I could milk, sir," said Dick. "Seen 'em milk, though, down in Linkyshire, and know how it's done."

"Then, of course, you can do it," said the lieutenant shortly; "look sharp!"

The men grinned, and Dirty Dick by no means looked sharp, but exceedingly blunt and foolish as he shuffled along the deck, provided himself with a bucket, and then approached the cow, which had suddenly began chewing the cud.

"Look at her, mate," said one of the sailors.

"What for?" said the man addressed.

"Some one's been giving her a quid o' bacca."

"But some one has. Look at her chewing."

"Why, so she is!" said the sailor, scratching his head, as he watched the regular actions of the cow's jaw, as she stood blinking her eyes, and swinging her tail to and fro, apparently quite content; the more so, that the sun was shining upon her warmly, and the sea water rapidly quitting her skin for the deck, where it made a rivulet into one of the scuppers.

Jack the sailor is easily pleased, for the simple reason that anything is a relief from the tedium of life on ship-board; consequently the coming of the cow was like a half-holiday to them at the wrong end of the day, and they stood about nudging each other, as Dirty Dick trotted up with his bucket, Archy looking on as much amused as the men.

The cow blinked her eyes, and turned her head to smell at the bucket which Dick set down on the deck, and stood scratching his head.

"Well, sir, go on," said the lieutenant--"Seems to me, now, Mr Raystoke, that we ought to have cream and fresh butter. Capital prize you've taken.--Do you hear, sir? Go on."

"Yes, sir. Beg pardon, sir, but you see I wants something to sit on. 'Nother bucket."

"You, sir, fetch another bucket," said the lieutenant sharply; and another was brought, turned upside down, and, taking the first bucket, amidst the titterings of the men, Dick seated himself, leaned his head against the cow's side, placed the vessel between his legs, and began to operate in true dairyman style upon the cow.

_Whack_! _Bang_! _Clatter_!

There was a tremendous roar of laughter from every one on board except from Dirty Dick, who was down on his back a couple of yards away, staring at the cow as if wondering how she could have gone off as she did. For the quiet-looking, inoffensive beast was standing perfectly still again, blinking her eyes and chewing her cud, but writhing and twisting her tail about as if it were an eel, after, at Dick's first touch, raising one of her hind legs and sending the pail flying across the deck and the would-be milker backwards.

"Come, come," said the lieutenant, wiping his eyes and trying to look very important and stern, "that's not the right way, my man. Try again."

Dick rose unwillingly, planted the upturned bucket once more in its place, and took the milking bucket from one of the men who had picked it up. Then, sitting down again rather nervously, he once more placed the vessel between his legs, stuck his head against the cow's side, and prepared to milk.

The bucket flew along the deck again, and Dick bounded away, saving himself from falling this time as he was prepared, and made a sudden leap backwards to stand wiping the perspiration from his forehead.

There was another roar of laughter, and the lieutenant bade Dick try again.

The man gave his officer an appealing look which seemed to say, "Tell me to board the enemy, sir, and I'll go, but don't ask me to do this."

Dick turned, glanced wistfully at Archy, shaking his head at him reproachfully, sighed, and, taking the bucket again, he looked into it with his rugged brown face full of despair.

"It's quite empty, Dick," said the middy, laughing.

"Yes, sir; there's nowt in it, and," he added to himself, "not like to be."

Again he settled himself into his place in as businesslike a way as a farm lad would who was accustomed to the cow-shed, but the moment he began the cow gave her tail a swing, lifted her leg, and planted it in the bucket, holding it down on the deck.

"Pail's full," cried Archy; and the men yelled with delight, their officer vainly trying to control his own mirth as Dick began to pat and apostrophise the cow.

"Coom, coom! Coosh, cow, then," he said soothingly. "Tak' thy leg oot o' the boocket, my bairn;" and to the astonishment of all present the cow lifted her leg and set it down again on deck.

"Well done, my lad," cried the lieutenant. "Now, then, look sharp with the milk."

Dick sighed, wiped his hands down the sides of his breeches, and began once more, but at the first touch of the big strong hands accustomed to handle capstan-bars and haul ropes, the cow gave a more vigorous kick than ever; away flew the bucket, and over went Dick on his back.

He sprung up angrily now in the midst of the laughter, and touched his forehead to his commanding officer.

"It arn't no good, sir; she's a beef cow, and not a milker."

"You don't know your business, my lad," said the lieutenant.

"But she's such a savage one, sir. Don't go anigh her, sir."

"Nonsense!" said the lieutenant, going up to the cow, patting her and handling her ears and horns; to all of which attentions the animal submitted calmly enough, blinking her eyes, and gently swinging her tail.

"I think I could milk her, sir," said Archy.

"Think so, Raystoke?" said the lieutenant. "I was just thinking I should have liked some new milk."

"So was I, sir. Shall I try?"

"Yes," said the lieutenant. "I believe I could do it myself. It always looks so easy. But no; won't do," he said firmly, as he drew himself up and tried to look stern and tall and big, an impossibility with a man of five feet two inches in height, and whose physique had always been against his advance in the profession. For as a short energetic little man he might have gained promotion; as a little fat rosy fellow the Lords of the Admiralty thought not; and so, after endless disappointments regarding better things, he had been appointed commander of the little _White Hawk_, and sent to cruise off the south coast and about the Channel, to catch the smugglers who were always too clever to be caught.

"No," he said shortly, as he drew himself up; "won't do, Raystoke, though you and I are condemned to live in this miserable little cutter, and on a contemptible kind of duty, we must not forget that we are officers and gentlemen in His Majesty's service. Milking cows won't do. No; we must draw the line at milking cows. But I should have liked a drop for my breakfast."

"Ahoy!" cried one of the men loudly.

"Ahoy yourself!" cried a voice from off the sea on the shore side, and all turned to see a boat approaching rowed by a rough-looking fisherman, and with a lad of about sixteen sitting astern, who now rose up to answer the man who shouted.

"Where did he come from?" said the lieutenant. "Anybody see him put off?"

"No, sir! No, sir!" came from all directions; and the lieutenant raised his glass to sweep the coast.

"What do you want?" cried the man at the side as the boat came on, and the lieutenant bade the man ask.

"Want?" shouted the lad, a sturdy-looking fellow with keen grey eyes and fair close curly hair all about his sunburned forehead. "I've come after our cow!"

"How do, Sir Risdon?"

The speaker was a curious-looking man of fifty, rough, sunburned, and evidently as keen as a well-worn knife. He was dressed like a farmer who had taken to fishing or like a fisherman who had taken to farming, and his nautical appearance seemed strange to a man who was leading a very meditative grey horse attached to a heavy cart, made more weighty by the greatcoat of caked mud the vehicle wore.

He had been leading the horse along what was called in Freestone a road, though its only pretensions to being a road was that it led from Shackle's farm to the fields which bordered the cliff, and consisted of two deep channels made by the farm tumbril wheels, and a shallow track formed by horses' hoofs, the said channels being more often full of water than of mud, and boasting the quality of never even in the hottest weather being dry.

The person Blenheim Shackle--farmer and fisher, in his canvas sailor's breeches, big boots, striped shirt, and red tassel cap--had accosted, was a tall, thin, aristocratic-looking gentleman, in a broad-skirted, shabby brown velvet coat, who was daintily picking his way, cane in hand, over the soft turf of the field, evidently deep in thought, but sufficiently awake to what was around to make him stoop from time to time to pick up a glistening white-topped mushroom, and transfer it to one of his pockets with a satisfied smile.

"Ah, Master Shackle," he said, starting slightly on being addressed. "Well, thank you. A lovely morning, indeed."

"Ay, the morning's right enough, Sir Risdon. Picking a few mushrooms, sir?"

"I--er--yes, Master Shackle. I have picked a few," said the tall thin gentleman, colouring slightly. "I--beg your pardon, Master Shackle, for doing so. I ought to have asked your leave."

"Bah! Not a bit," said the fisher-farmer, with a chuckle. "You're welcome, squire."

"I thank you, Master Shackle--I thank you warmly. You see her ladyship is very fond of the taste of a fresh gathered mushroom, and if I see a few I like to take them to the Hoze."

"Ay, to be sure," said Shackle, as he thought to himself "And precious glad to get them, you two poor half-starved creatures, with your show and sham, and titles and keep up appearances."

"I--er--I have not got many, Master Shackle. Would you like to see?" continued the tall thin gentleman, raising the flap of one of his salt-box pockets.

"I don't want to see," growled the other, as he stood patting the neck of his old grey horse. "Been to the cliff edge?"

"I--yes, Master Shackle."

"I think I saw a small vessel lying some distance off, with white sails."

"That's the _White Hawk_, Luff Brough. And I wanted to speak to you, Sir Risdon."

The gentleman started.

"Not about--about that--" he stammered.

"Tchah! Yes. It was about that, man," said the other. "Don't shy at it like a horse at a blue bogey in a windy lane."

"But I told you, man, last time, that I would have no more to do with that wretched smuggling."

"Don't call things by ugly names."

"My good man, it is terrible. It is dishonourable, and the act is a breaking of the laws of our country."

"Tchah! Not it, Sir Risdon," cried the other so sharply, that the grey horse started forward, and had to be checked. "Not the king's laws, but the laws of that Dutchman who has come and stuck himself on the throne. Why, sir, you ought to take a pleasure in breaking his laws, after the way he has robbed you, and turned you from a real gentleman, into a poor, hard-pressed country squire, who--"

"Hush! Hush, Master Shackle!" said the tall gentleman huskily. "Don't rake up my misfortunes."

"Not I, Sir Risdon. I'm full o' sorrow and respect for a noble gentleman, who has suffered for the cause of the real king, who, when he comes, will set us all right."

"Ah, Master Shackle, I'm losing heart."

"Nay, don't do that, Sir Risdon; and as to a few mushrooms, why, you're welcome enough; and I'd often be sending a chicken or a few eggs, or a kit o' butter, or drop o' milk, all to the Hoze, only we're feared her ladyship might think it rude."

"It's--it's very good of you, Master Shackle, and I shall never be able to repay you."

"Tchah! Who wants repaying, Sir Risdon? We have plenty at the farm, and it was on'y day 'fore yes'day as I was out in my little lugger, and we'd took a lot o' mackrel! `Ram,' I says to my boy Ramillies, `think Sir Risdon would mind if I sent him a few fish up to the Hoze?'

"`Ay, father,' he says, `they don't want us to send them fish. My lady's too proud!'"

Sir Risdon sighed, and the man watched him narrowly.

"It's a pity too," the latter continued, "specially as we often have so much fish we puts it on the land."

"Er--if you would be good enough to send a little fish--of course very fresh, Master Shackle, and a few eggs, and a little butter to the Hoze, and let me have your bill by and by, I should be gratified."

"On'y too glad, Sir Risdon, I will.--Think any one's been telling tales?"

"'Bout us, Sir Risdon."

"You see the revenue cutter's hanging about here a deal, and it looks bad."

"Surely no one would betray you, Master Shackle?"

"Hope not, Sir Risdon; but it's okkard. There's a three-masted lugger coming over from Ushant, and she may be in to-night. There's some nice thick fogs about now, and it's a quiet sea. Your cellars are quite empty, I s'pose?"

The last remark came so quickly, that the hearer started, and made no reply.

"You see, Sir Risdon, we might run the cargo, and stow it all up at my place, for we've plenty o' room; but if they got an idea of it aboard the cutter, she'd land some men somehow, and come and search me, but they wouldn't dare to come and search you. I've got a bad character, but you haven't."

"No, no, Master Shackle; I cannot; I will not."

"The lads could run it up the valley, and down into your cellar, Sir Risdon," whispered the man, as if afraid that the old grey horse would hear; "nobody would be a bit the wiser, and you'd be doing a neighbour a good turn."

"I--I cannot, Master Shackle; it is against the law."

"Dutchman's law, not the laws of Bonnie Prince Charlie. You will, Sir Risdon?"

"No--no, I dare not."

"And it gives a neighbour a chance to beg your acceptance of a little drop o' real cognac, Sir Risdon--so good in case o' sickness. And a bit of prime tay, such as would please her ladyship. Then think how pleasant a pipe is, Sir Risdon; I've got a bit o' lovely tobacco at my place, and a length or two of French silk."

"Master Shackle! Master Shackle!" cried the tall thin baronet piteously, "how can you tempt a poor suffering gentleman like this?"

"Because I want to do you a bit of good, Sir Risdon, and myself too. I tell you it's safe enough. You've only to leave your side door open, and go to bed; that's all."

"But I shall be as guilty as you."