Roger Willoughby | Page 2

I own, have
remained in the house to enjoy the society of sweet Mistress Alice, but
Madame Pauline, cruelly insisting that she required her aid in the
manufacture of some conserves, sent me out to search for you."
"I am bound to be grateful to you for coming, whether willingly or not,
to look for me, or I might have remained in my nest mayhap till the sun
had sunk behind Beer Head out yonder," said Roger, beginning to
climb up the cliff. "I would gladly, however, remain till the ship comes
near enough to let us get a better sight of her."
To this, however, Stephen would not consent, for the reason he had
already given, and Roger also well knew that his uncle, Colonel
Tregellen, would be displeased should they not appear at the regular
dinner-hour.
Roger Willoughby's cosy nook, as he called it, was a small hollow in
the cliff a few feet from the summit, surrounded by a thick growth of
purple bramble, scented clematis, pink thorn, and other shrubs, which
formed a complete shelter from all but southerly winds, and likewise
concealed it from any one passing along the downs above. It was on a
part of the Dorsetshire coast between Lyme and Bridport, almost in the
centre of the extensive bay which has Portland Bill on its eastern side
and the Start Point on the west. To the right could be seen Lowesdon
Hill and Pillesdon Pen rising above the surrounding country, while to
the left a line of precipitous cliffs extended in a bold sweep for several
miles to the conical height of the Gilten Cap, visible to the mariner far

away out at sea, while inland, beyond a range of smooth undulating
downs, were fields of grass and corn, orchards and woods, amid which
appeared here and there a church steeple, the roof of a farm-house or
labourer's cottage, or the tower or gable-end of some more pretentious
residence.
Still, Roger accompanied Stephen Battiscombe with evident reluctance,
and turned more than once to take another look at the approaching ship
which had so attracted his attention.
"She must be purposing to come to an anchor close to the shore, and we
may be able to go on board her," he exclaimed.
"Very possibly her captain intends to bring up to wait till the tide
turns," said Stephen in a tone of indifference. "If you have a fancy for
visiting her, the sooner we get back to Eversden the more time you will
have to accomplish your object, should your father not object to your
going; but as we do not know the character of the vessel, he may doubt
whether the trip is a safe one--she may be a pirate, or a trader in want of
hands, and may kidnap you and your boatmen to fill up the
complement of her crew."
Roger laughed heartily as Stephen ceased speaking. "We need not fear
any danger of that sort," he said. "My father is not so over-careful of
me as you suppose. Neither he nor the Colonel will say me nay, and if
you are unwilling to accompany me, I will go alone."
"No! no!--if you go I will go with you," answered Stephen. "I merely
wished to warn you, that you might not be disappointed."
"I know well that I can always trust you, and that you are ever ready to
please me when you can," said Roger. "But, as you say, it were a pity to
lose time--so we will hasten on to the manor-house, and as soon as we
have satisfied our hunger, we will return to the shore and get Ben
Rullock and his boy Toby to put us aboard the stranger. See, she is still
standing in for the land, and she would certainly not come so close
except for the purpose of anchoring."

The boys had now reached the highest part of the downs. After this,
having to descend to the cultivated ground, they lost sight of the ship.
Making a short cut across some fields enclosed by stone walls, they
reached a lane with hedges on either side, along which they proceeded
for a mile or more, as snake-like it twisted and turned in various
directions, till, crossing what from its width looked like a high-road,
though as full of ruts and holes as the lane, they passed through a
gateway, the entrance to an avenue of fine beech-trees. The once stout
gate shook and creaked on its rusty hinges as they pushed it open; the
keeper's lodge was in ruins, burnt down many years ago, for the marks
of fire were still visible on the portions of the walls seen between the
ivy and other creepers partially covering them. The lads, hurrying up
the avenue, soon reached