Jack Hardy: A Story of English Smugglers in the Days of NapoleonStrang, Herbert
History
Jack Hardy: A Story of English Smugglers in the Days of Napoleon
Strang, Herbert
Great Britain -- History -- 19th century -- Juvenile fiction; Sailors -- Juvenile fiction; Smugglers -- Juvenile fiction
They went back over the cliffs. They had just crossed the chine when a
big figure suddenly loomed up to the left, appearing from the zigzag
path leading down to the shore. There was no time to avoid a meeting;
indeed, so suddenly had the man appeared from round a bend in the path
that unless he and the boys had started back simultaneously there must
have been a collision. The moonlight shone full in the face of the big
man, and Jack recognized him even as Arthur whispered:
"I say! old Gudgeon!"
Gudgeon recognized the boys at the same moment.
"Oh, Mr. Hardy, sir!" he said, "you put me in quite a flutter. And you,
too, Master Bastable; well to be sure! As if I had not had enough
flutters for one night! Did you hear a boat, sir?"
"Saw it, too."
"There now! I was kept up late attending to some lambs" ("Pretty old
mutton!" thought Jack.), "and I thought I heard people moving, and I
came out, and I was sure I saw a boat putting out to sea. It gave me
quite a start. Perhaps it was some of those smugglers—a rough lot. But
gracious me! ’tis very late for two young gentlemen to be out; your good
mother would be in a terrible flutter, Master Bastable, if she knew."
"I say, are you going to tell her?"
"I have to consider my duty, Master Bastable. As to Mr. Hardy, of course
he’s a king’s officer, and can keep any hours the king likes to let him.
But a boy like you, Master Bastable! Really, Mr. Hardy, sir, I’m
surprised at you. But I keep myself to myself, I do, and don’t meddle
with no man’s business as don’t concern me. So this time, Master
Bastable, I won’t think it my duty to tell your lady mother what I seed
this night."
"I’m going to tell her myself, and what—"
"Avast there!" interrupted Jack, "you ought to be very much obliged to
Mr. Gudgeon, you young donkey, for not rounding on you. Good night, Mr.
Gudgeon."
And he hauled Arthur away.
"You young idiot!" said Jack, when they were out of earshot. "You were
going to say you would tell your mother all you had seen. We mustn’t on
any account let them know what we have found out. That would put them
on their guard at once. Better say nothing at all just yet."
"All right. But why?"
"Because there’s something going on which I don’t understand. De
Fronsac may be in it; Gudgeon certainly is; and if they think we know
too much it will spoil things. Not a word to any one, mind."
"I say, how am I going to get back into your room? I got down the
rain-pipe, but I couldn’t climb up it."
"Don’t worry yourself, we’ll find a way."
On reaching the house they saw that De Fronsac’s windows were shut.
Jack quickly swarmed up the pipe and entered his room. In about a
minute down came the end of a knotted sheet. Arthur caught it, and in a
few minutes was standing beside Jack.
The family were seated at the breakfast-table next morning when De
Fronsac came in.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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