Cutlass and Cudgel | Page 8

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."
"Guilty?" the man laughed. "I never could see a bit o' harm in doing
what I do. Never feel shamed to look my boy Ramillies in the face. If a
bit o' smuggling was wrong, Sir Risdon, think I'd do it? No, sir; I think
o' them as was before me. My father was in Marlborough's wars, and
he called me Blenheim, in honour of the battle he was in; and I called
my boy Ramillies, and if ever he gets married, and has a son, he's to be
Malplackey. I arn't ashamed to look him in the face."
"But I shall be afraid to look in the face of my dear child."
"Mistress Denise, Sir Risdon? Tchah! Bless her! I don' believe she'd
like her father to miss getting a lot of things that would be good for him,
and your madam. There, Sir Risdon; don't say another word about it.
Leave the door open, and go to bed. You shan't hear anybody come or
go away, and you're not obliged to look in the cellars for a few days."
"But, my child--the old servant--suppose they hear?"
"What? The rats? Tell 'em to take no notice, Sir Risdon. Good day, Sir
Risdon. That's settled, then?"
"Ye-es--I suppose so. This once only, Master Shackle."
"Thank ye, Sir Risdon," said the man. "Jee, Dutchman!"
The horse tugged at the tumbril, and Sir Risdon went thoughtfully
along the field, toward a clump of trees lying in a hollow, while Master
Shackle went on chuckling to himself.

"Couldn't say me nay, poor fellow. Half-starved they are sometimes.
Wonder he don't give up the old place, and go away. Hope he won't.
Them cellars are too vallyble. Hallo! What now?"
This to the fair curly-headed lad, who came trotting up across the short
turf.
"Been looking at the cutter, father?"
"Oh, she don't want no looking at. Who brought those cows down
here?"
"Jemmy Dadd."
"He's a fool. We shall be having some of 'em going over the cliff. Go
home and tell mother to put a clean napkin in a basket, and take two
rolls of butter, a bit of honey, and a couple of chickens up to the Hoze."
"Yes, father."
"And see if there's any eggs to take too."
"Yes, father. But--"
"Well?"
"Think the lugger will come to-night?"
"No, I don't think anything, and don't you. Will you keep that rattle
tongue of yours quiet? Never know me go chattering about luggers, do
you?"
"No, father."
"Then set your teeth hard, or you'll never be a man worth your salt.
Want to grow into a Jemmy Dadd?"
"No, father."

"Then be off."
The boy went off at a run, and the fisher-farmer led his horse along the
two rutted tracks till he came down into the valley, and then went on
and on, towards where a couple of men were at work in a field, doing
nothing with all their might.
CHAPTER FOUR.
Ramillies--commonly known by his father's men as Ram--Shackle
trotted up over the hill, stopping once to flop down on the grass to gaze
at the cutter, lying a mile out now from the shore, and thinking how
different she was with her trim rigging and white sails to the rough
lugger of his father, and the dirty three-masted vessels that ran to and
fro across the Channel, and upon which he had more than once taken a
trip.
He rose with a sigh, and continued his journey down into the hollow,
and along a regular trough among the hills, to the low, white-washed
stone building, roofed with thin pieces of the same material, and gaily
dotted and splashed with lichen and moss.
He was met by a comfortable-looking, ruddy-faced woman, who
shouted,--"What is it, Ram?" when he was fifty yards away.
The boy stated his errand.
"Father says you were to take all that?"
"Yes."
"Then there's a cargo coming ashore to-night, Ram."
"Yes, mother, and the cutter's lying a mile out."
"Oh, dear, dear, dear!" cried the woman; "I hope there won't be no
trouble, boy."

She stood