now, the four days i passed at the stone house i was like to die for weariness and suspense. the routine was unbroken. i ate my breakfast in the kitchen with the woman and the two men watching me; for an hour thence i was free to exercise myself in the courtyard; all the days the grey fog hung dank in the hollow, and the cobbles were wet and slippery. the silent bart was always within reach of me; martin watched me from the door, and the hound raved by the steps. thence i was locked in my room for the remainder of the morning; again brought down for dinner, again to exercise in the courtyard; finally to be locked in my room for the night. at dark, mother mag brought me my supper of bread and water; ere midnight, martin surveyed my room, to be assured that i was not attempting to break out. i saw nothing of roger galt all this while. i assumed that he had ridden away from the stone house; through the parting in the floor i could hear of a night only the mumblings of martin and mother mag; bart p. 98never bore them company. from the certain likeness among the three, i came to believe them all of the one evil brood; the age of the hag, i thought, should make her their grandame, though martin treated her and bart with the sneering insolence which he displayed towards me. i knew that they expected daily the arrival of captain ezra blunt, who, i gathered from martin, was master of the brig, black wasp,—whether he was trader, smuggler, or pirate of the american coasts i did not learn, but rather assumed, and dreaded all the more the life awaiting me aboard.
but of mr. bradbury all this while? was he dead? or was he searching for me, and on that lawless coast finding officers of the law poor assistance to him? would he yet come to the stone house, and would he come in time?
now, the grey afternoon of the fourth day, i was looking drearily out of my window, when i heard a voice calling from the gate. mother mag, hobbling from the house, admitted roger galt; he rode up, mounted on his great horse; by the flush of his reckless face and by his rolling in saddle, he had been drinking deeply. spying me at the window, he essayed to flourish his hat, and almost fell from his horse in this p. 99endeavour. i heard him presently wrangling with martin in the room below, the deep booming of his voice, the smash of a glass, as if he had failed to pour himself a dram, or had slung a goblet at martin’s head. but i paid little heed to him, for my acute interest in the fellows whom mother mag admitted on roger’s heels into the courtyard. twenty or more,—sunburned seamen in loose breeches, rough jackets and red caps, a cutlass at every man’s belt; a few country folk, men and women, driving a train of laden pack-horses. smugglers! i knew then the use of the stone house, lonely and near the sea, and guessed how the silks and laces and brandies and what-not were secreted in its old cellars for distribution through the countryside. there rode with these folk a rakish red-faced fellow on a cob; his blue cloak, blown back in the wind, showed me his blue coat ornate with gold lace and buttons, his white breeches poked into high, mud-stained boots; he had a black hat thrust down upon his brows. all these folk, entering the yard with much sound and clatter, passed about the house, and out of view, mother mag following and calling for bart. i heard from beyond the house, presently, the rolling of barrels over cobbles, the voices of the smugglers, and the baying of the hound. so p. 100blunt was come, with his seamen and his smuggled goods; so i was soon to be handed over to him to be shipped overseas. trembling, i waited by the window, till the grey afternoon gave place to dusk and dark, with a cold wind blowing, ever gaining strength and ever crying out around the house, as though to share in the ever-swelling tumult of the smugglers. for the quiet of the stone house was at an end; it seemed that captain ezra blunt—if the fellow with the copper-red face were blunt—and his folk would spend a gay night ashore.
when the rolling of the barrels and the trampling of the horses ceased, i heard the company clatter into the kitchen,—mother mag’s voice was shrill as a fiddle-string over their laughter and the baying of the hound. their leader left them soon to join martin and roger in the room below me; lying with my ear to the crack in the floor, i heard martin address him as “blunt.” it appeared that galt was now lying drunk by the fire, for said martin, “our friend here’s been unloading an earlier cargo of yours, mr. blunt. don’t mind him! sit you down and taste a dram!”—and i heard the clink of glasses, and blunt’s voice at first so low that i could not make out his words.
“will you be making back to the black wasp p. 101to-night?” martin asked. “mr. craike would have a word with you at the haven.”
i believed that blunt answered that he had already met mr. craike. martin proceeded, “don’t let these men of yours get too drunk, then. you know what you’re to take away with you.”
“ay, ay,” blunt answered. “young craike.”
“howe’s his name,” martin asserted. “we’ve kept him safe for you. so don’t let your men get too drunk!”
“oh, they’ll be sober enough by dawn,” blunt answered easily. “if not, you and bart can give me a hand down to the ship with him. galt’s very drunk.”
“he’s always drunk nowadays,” said martin. “don’t trouble about him. but mr. craike surely gave you to understand that the lad was to be got aboard in the dark. he must have told you of the old fool bradbury, and the hunt he’s making. gavin masters is backing him. there’s talk over at the haven of runners down from london. we’ll be having ’em here, if masters sets his wits to work. we’ll get the lad away now, if you’re wise and willing, blunt.”
“i’m not willing,” blunt answered angrily. “i’m weary to death. i’ll have supper and a bottle or more from old mag’s cupboard, before p. 102i stir this night. damn craike! what’s craike to me?”
“your master,” martin snarled; then, as though apprehensive of my listening, he lowered his voice; blunt following suit, i heard them muttering together; and, drearily, i rose and sat down on the bed. i was to be taken out of the stone house that night, and be set aboard blunt’s ship, black wasp, and that under the very nose of mr. bradbury and his folk. unless they came that night! i lifted my hands to heaven then, and prayed that they might come to the house in time, or intercept my captors on the way down to the sea. but i sat in the dark for hours, and none came nigh me; below, the carousal rose to tumult.
i heard their voices roaring a chanty; i heard drunken laughter; once i heard the sounds of strife, smash of bottles, clash of steel, fierce cries; this uproar ceasing presently, the uproar and the singing continued far into the night. all the while the wind rolled about the stone house; when i peered out, i saw the moon, now at the full, cloud-chased; the light alternated swiftly with dark in the room, as the wind blew the sacking to and fro. ever the smugglers rioted within, and the wind was riotous without.
other folk came to the house in the night; at p. 103every cry at the gate i would leap to my feet, hoping against hope that mr. bradbury and the searchers after me were there; peering out, i saw in the moonlight only seamen come, bringing still the smuggled cargo from the ship, and country folk with teams to carry it away for distribution; the sounds of discharge and loading from the courtyard were added to the sounds of carousal in the house itself.
not till long after moonrise did mother mag bring me my supper; this night, she brought a mug of steaming spirits with bread and meat; when she had set it down, she giggled shrilly at me; caught at my sleeve with her skinny claw, and cried, “eat and drink, young master,—drink while your grog’s hot! you’re to travel far this night, and it’s bitter cold. drink!”
her eagerness warned me, of course, against the grog. i answered, “i’m not thirsty. i’ll not drink. leave it there!”
she mouthed at me, and shook her fist at me; but, going out, paused at the door to shriek at me, “whether you drink or no, master, you’re going from here to-night. going, and never coming back!” dragging the door to with a crash, she descended the stair.