In the Kings Name | Page 9

were swelling, they made once more for the coast.
It was about nine o'clock of a deliciously soft night, and the moist sweet air that came off the shore was sweetly fragrant of flowers and new-mown hay. The night was cloudy, and very dusky for the time of year, a fact so much in their favour, and with the watch on the alert, for the lieutenant would not call the men to quarters in case the informer did not come, he and Hilary leaned over the side, gazing at the scattered lights that twinkled on the shore.
An hour and a half had passed away, and the time, which a church clock ashore had struck, ten, seemed to have far exceeded this hour, when, as they all watched the mist which hung between them and the invisible shore, a light was suddenly seen to come as it were out of a bank of fog, and glide slowly towards them, but as if to go astern.
The cutter had a small lamp hoisted to the little masthead, and the lieutenant knew that this would be sufficient signal of their whereabouts, and so it proved, for the gliding light came nearer and nearer, and soon after a voice they both recognised hailed them.
"Cutter ahoy!"
"Ahoy!"
The light came on nearer and nearer, and at last they could dimly make out the half-hoisted sails of a small fishing lugger, which was run cleverly enough close alongside, her occupants holding on by boathooks.
"Mind what you are doing there," cried the lieutenant sharply; "jump aboard, my man."
"All right, captain."
"Go down and get my sword, Leigh," whispered the lieutenant; "and put on your own."
It was as if just then an idea had occurred to him that there might be treachery, and the thought seemed to be communicated to Hilary, who ran down below, caught up the two swords from the hooks where they hung upon the bulkhead, and was on his way up, when the lieutenant came down upon him with a crash, there was the rattling on of the hatch, the trampling of feet, and a short scuffle, and as Hilary leaped over his prostrate officer, and, sword in hand, dashed up at the hatch, it was to find it fastened, for they had been cleverly trapped, and without doubt the cutter was in the smuggler's hands.
CHAPTER FOUR.
IN COMMAND.
Hilary Leigh was only a boy, and he acted boyishly at that moment, for in his rage and mortification he first of all struck at the hatch with his fist, and then shouted to the people on deck.
"Here, hi! you sirs, open this hatch directly."
But as he shouted he knew that his order was absurd, and tucking the lieutenant's sword under his arm he buckled on his own before leaping down to where his leader lay.
"Are you much hurt, sir?" he asked; but there was no answer.
"I've got a orfle whack side o' the head, sir," growled Tom Tully.
"So've I, sir," said another man.
"Serve you right too, for not keeping a good lookout," cried Hilary savagely; "here, it's disgraceful! A king's ship taken by a set of smuggling rascals. Look alive, there, my lads. Here, you marines, be smart. Where's Billy Waters?"
"Here, sir," cried that worthy.
"Serve out the arms smart, my man. Two of you carry the lieutenant into the cabin. Steady there! He isn't dead."
For two of the men had been seen, by the dim light of a horn lantern, to seize their commanding officer in the most unceremonious way, to lug him into the cabin.
By this time the 'tween decks of the cutter was alive with dimly-seen figures, for in a vessel of this description the space devoted in a peaceful vessel to the storage of cargo was utilised for the convenience of the comparatively large crew.
"Heave those hammocks out of the way," cried Hilary next; and this being done, he stood there with twenty well-armed men awaiting his next orders--orders which he did not give, for the simple reason that he did not know what to do.
It was a ticklish position for a lad of his years, to find himself suddenly in command of a score of fighting men, one and all excited and ready for the fray, as, schooled by drill and discipline, they formed themselves into a machine which he was to set in motion; but how, when, and where?
There was the rub, and in the midst of a dead silence Hilary listened to the trampling of feet overhead.
It was a curious scene--the gloomy 'tween decks of the cutter, with the group of eager men standing about awaiting their young officer's orders, their rough, weatherbeaten faces looking fierce in the shadowy twilight, for the lanterns swinging fore and aft only seemed to make darkness visible; and as the trampling went on, evidently that of men wearing heavy