Chapter 7:  Pressed.

Many and deep were the maledictions uttered, as the smugglers climbed on board their vessel; but their captain said cheerily: 

“Never mind, lads, it might have been worse.  It was only the first cargo of tubs, and half of those weren’t ashore.  The lace and silk are all right, so no great harm is done.  Set to work, and get up sail as soon as you can.  Likely enough there is a cutter in the offing; that blue light must have been a signal.  They seem to have got news of our landing, somehow.”

The crew at once set to work to get up sail.  Three or four of the countrymen, who had, like James, got on board the boats, stood in a group looking on, confused and helpless; but James lent his assistance, until the sails were hoisted and the craft began to move through the water.

“Now, then,” the captain said, “let us go below and look at the wounds.  We daren’t show a light, here on deck.”

The wounds were, for the most part, slashes and blows with cutlasses; for in the darkness and confusion of the fight, only two of the bullets had taken effect.  One of the smugglers had fallen, shot through the head, while one of those on board had his arm broken by a pistol ball.

“Now for our passengers,” the captain said, after the wounds had been bandaged.

“Who are you?” and he lifted a lantern to James’s face.

“Why, it is young Mr. Walsham!” he exclaimed in surprise.

James knew the man now, for the lugger had several times put in at Sidmouth, where, coming in as a peaceable trader, the revenue officers, although well aware of the nature of her vocation, were unable to touch her, as vessels could only be seized when they had contraband on board.

“Why, what brings you into this affair, young master?”

James related the conversation he had overheard, and his determination to warn the smugglers of their danger.

“I should have managed it, in plenty of time, if I had known the exact spot on which you were going to land; but I saw a signal light, two miles down the coast, and that kept me there for half an hour.  It struck me, then, it was a ruse to attract the officers from the real spot of landing, but though I ran as hard as I could, I was only just before them.”

“Thank you heartily,” the smuggler said.  “I expect you saved us from a much worse mess than we got into.  I have no doubt they meant to capture the tubs, as they were loaded, without raising an alarm; and the fellows on the shore would have come up quietly, and taken us by surprise as we were landing the last boat loads.  Thanks to you, we have got well out of it, and have only lost one of our hands, and a score or so of tubs.”

“You can’t put me ashore, I suppose?” James said.

“That I can’t,” the smuggler replied.  “I have no doubt that cutter from Weymouth is somewhere outside us, and we must get well off the coast before morning.  If we give her the slip, I will send you off in a boat sometime tomorrow.  I must go ashore, myself, to make fresh arrangements for getting my cargo landed.”