Chambers's Journal of Popular Literature, Science, and Art, No. 683: January 27, 1877Various
Science
Chambers's Journal of Popular Literature, Science, and Art, No. 683: January 27, 1877
Various
Periodicals
The suggestion meeting, as I need scarcely say, with my delighted
approval, a friendly contention ensued as to which of the
fishing-smacks offered by their respective owners for the purpose
should have the honour of making the little voyage. But hastened
by my impatient entreaties, the question was quickly and amicably
settled; and the anchor of the selected vessel having been weighed, I
embarked along with my rough but kindly natured companions. As might
be expected, all conversation during the short sail turned exclusively
on the one theme, and over and over again I was called upon to repeat
to those of the fishermen not engaged in working the vessel, portions
of the tale I had already related. But the information was not all on
one side, since for my part I learned from my seafaring associates
one or two very significant facts--the chief amongst them being that
the owners of Spike Rock Farm and of the _Ship and Anchor_ inn were
brothers; and that two other gentlemen who had visited the Spike Rocks,
after staying at the hotel in Lleyrudrigg, had also mysteriously
disappeared from that neighbourhood. With light thrown upon the matter
by the former of these facts, I now understood how it was that the
farmer's physiognomy had impressed me as familiar--the resemblance
between the brothers, though not very striking, being quite sufficient
to account for it--and by the latter I was, if possible, more
thoroughly convinced than ever of the diabolical premeditation with
which the intended murder had been committed.
The sailor who had made it proved to be not far wrong in his
calculation as to the length of time it would take to reach our
destination. Exactly one hour and a quarter after quitting Lleyrudrigg
we landed, with some difficulty, a little beyond the bird-haunted
crags, and at once started, almost at a run, for the farther of the
two 'Devils' Holes,' the seamen, by my direction, carrying with them
a coil of strong rope. But although upon attaining it, we all shouted
in concert, urging my reverend friend to make some sign from his place
of concealment, no response was given to the summons. And when time
after time it had been repeated without other result than a series of
echoes, loud enough to be heard above the din of the restless waters
below, I could see some of the men beginning to look at me askance;
then gradually upon the faces of one or two the air of questioning
doubt gave place to an angry scowl; and from certain low mutterings
which reached my ear, I gathered that an impression was beginning to be
formed that I was either mad, or that I had mischievously brought them
upon a fool's errand.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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