Cutlass and Cudgel

Manville Fenn George

Description

Get set for nonstop seafaring adventure in this ripping yarn from George Manville Fenn. Something suspicious is afoot on the cutter White Hawk, and midshipman Archibald Raystoke is determined to get to the bottom of it. Inquisitive by nature, Raystoke starts investigating -- and soon finds himself caught up in a dastardly plot.

Sujets

• Adventure (Guyana)
• Adventure

Informations

• Publié par: The Floating Press
• Date de parution: 01 mai 2016
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781776670833
• Langue: English

Extrait

CUTLASS AND CUDGEL
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GEORGE MANVILLE FENN
 
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Cutlass and Cudgel First published in 1890 Epub ISBN 978-1-77667-083-3 Also available: PDF ISBN 978-1-77667-084-0 © 2014 The Floating Press and its licensors. All rights reserved. While every effort has been used to ensure the accuracy and reliability of the information contained in The Floating Press edition of this book, The Floating Press does not assume liability or responsibility for any errors or omissions in this book. The Floating Press does not accept responsibility for loss suffered as a result of reliance upon the accuracy or currency of information contained in this book. Do not use while operating a motor vehicle or heavy equipment. Many suitcases look alike. Visit www.thefloatingpress.com
Contents
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Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty One Chapter Twenty Two Chapter Twenty Three Chapter Twenty Four Chapter Twenty Five Chapter Twenty Six Chapter Twenty Seven Chapter Twenty Eight Chapter Twenty Nine Chapter Thirty Chapter Thirty One Chapter Thirty Two Chapter Thirty Three Chapter Thirty Four Chapter Thirty Five Chapter Thirty Six Chapter Thirty Seven Chapter Thirty Eight Chapter Thirty Nine Chapter Forty
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In some ways this book is reminiscent of "The Lost Middy", by the sameauthor, but I suppose that with a similar theme, a nosey midshipmantaken prisoner by a gang of smugglers, there are bound to be otherpoints of similarity. Anyway, it is a good fast-moving story, withlots of well-drawn human interest.
It starts off with a comic scene, where the Excise patrol vessel iscruising near an area suspected of being heavily involved withsmuggling. Suddenly a large object is seen swimming in the water, and itturns out to be a cow. Then there's all the business of milking the cowon the deck of a sailing-vessel. Pretty soon, however it gets serious,and we meet various characters living nearby. Soon the inquisitivemidshipman is taken prisoner, and it falls to another teenager, the sonof one of the chief rogues, to bring him food. Both boys becomefriendly with each other, but the midshipman can only express it byappearing to hate the farm-fisher boy, whom he considers to be sociallyfar beneath him. The farm-boy tries so hard to be kind to themidshipman, who is so rude in return.
Eventually the midshipman escapes, the smugglers are caught, and thefarm-boy becomes a seaman on the Excise vessel.
NH
Chapter One
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"Heigh-Ho-Ha-Hum! Oh dear me!"
"What's matter, sir?"
"Matter, Dirty Dick? Nothing; only, heigh-ho-ha! Oh dear me, howsleepy I am!"
"Well, sir, I wouldn't open my mouth like that 'ere, 'fore the sun'sup."
"Why not?"
"No knowing what you might swallow off this here nasty, cold, foggy,stony coast."
"There you go again, Dick; not so good as Lincolnshire coast, Isuppose?"
"As good, sir? Why, how can it be?" said the broad, sturdy sailoraddressed. "Nothin' but great high stony rocks, full o' beds of greatflat periwinkles and whelks; nowhere to land, nothin' to see. I amsurprised at you, sir. Why, there arn't a morsel o' sand."
"For not praising your nasty old flat sandy shore, with its marshbeyond, and its ague and bogs and fens."
"Wish I was 'mong 'em now, sir. Wild ducks there, as is fit to eat, notiley fishy things like these here."
"Oh, bother! Wish I could have had another hour or two's sleep. I say,Dirty Dick, are you sure the watch wasn't called too soon?"
"Nay, sir, not a bit; and, beggin' your pardon, sir, if you wouldn'tmind easin' off the Dirty—Dick's much easier to say."
"Oh, very well, Dick. Don't be so thin-skinned about a nickname."
"That's it, sir. I arn't a bit thin-skinned. Why, my skin's as thickas one of our beasts. I can't help it lookin' brown. Washes myselfdeal more than some o' my mates as calls me dirty. Strange and curioushow a name o' that kind sticks."
"Oh, I say, don't talk so," said the lad by the rough sailor's side; andafter another yawn he began to stride up and down the deck of HisMajesty's cutter White Hawk , lying about a mile from the Freestonecoast of Wessex.
It was soon after daybreak, the sea was perfectly calm and a thick greymist hung around, making the deck and cordage wet and the air chilly,while the coast, with its vast walls of perpendicular rocks, lookedweird and distant where a peep could be obtained amongst the wreaths ofvapour.
"Don't know when I felt so hungry," muttered the lad, as he thrust hishands into his breeches pockets, and stopped near the sailor, who smiledin the lad's frank-looking, handsome face.
"Ah, you always were a one to yeat, sir, ever since you first cameaboard."
"You're a noodle, Dick. Who wouldn't be hungry, fetched out of his cotat this time of the morning to take the watch. Hang the watch! Botherthe watch! Go and get me a biscuit, Dick, there's a good fellow."
The sailor showed his white teeth, and took out a brass box.
"Can't get no biscuit yet, sir. Have a bit o' this. Keeps off thegnawin's wonderful."
"Yah! Who's going to chew tobacco!" cried the lad with a look ofdisgust, as he buttoned up his uniform jacket. "Oh, hang it all, I wishthe sun would come out!"
"Won't be long, sir; and then all this sea-haar will go."
"Why don't you say mist?" cried the lad contemptuously.
"'Acause it's sea-haar, and you can't make nowt else on it, sir!"
"They haven't seen anything of them in the night, I suppose?"
"No, sir; nowt. It scars me sometimes, the way they dodges us, and getsaway. Don't think theer's anything queer about 'em, do you?"
"Queer? Yes, of course. They're smugglers, and as artful as can be."
"Nay, sir, bad, I mean—you know, sir."
"No, I don't, Dick," cried the young officer pettishly. "How can Iknow? Speak out."
"Nay, I wean't say a word, sir; I don't want to get more scarred than Iam sometimes now."
"Get out! What do you mean? That old Bogey helps them to run theircargoes?"
"Nay, sir, I wean't say a word. It's all werry well for you to laugh,now it's daylight, and the sun coming out. It's when it's all black aspitch, as it takes howd on you worst."
"You're a great baby, Dick," cried the midshipman, as he went to theside of the cutter and looked over the low bulwark toward the east."Hah! Here comes the sun."
His eyes brightened as he welcomed the coming of the bright orb,invisible yet from where he stood; but the cold grey mist that hungaround was becoming here and there, in patches, shot with a softdelicious rosy hue, which made the grey around turn opalescent rapidly,beginning to flash out pale yellow, which, as the middy watched,deepened into orange and gold.
"Lovely!" he said aloud, as he forgot in the glory of the scene thediscomfort he had felt.
"Tidy, sir, pooty tidy," said the sailor, who had come slowly up towhere he stood. "And you should see the morning come over our coast,sir. Call this lovely? Why, if you'd sin the sun rise there, it wouldmak' you stand on your head."
"Rather see this on my feet, Dick," cried the lad. "Look at that!Hurrah! Up she comes!"
Up "she"—otherwise the sun—did come, rolling slowly above themist-covered sea, red, swollen, huge, and sending blood-tinted raysthrough and through the haze to glorify the hull, sails, and rigging ofthe smart cutter, and make the faces of the man at the helm and theother watchers glow as with new health.
The effect was magical. Just before all was cold and grey, and theclinging mist sent a shiver through those on deck; now, their eyesbrightened with pleasure, as the very sight of the glowing orb seemed tohave a warming—as it certainly had an enlivening—effect.
The great wreaths of mist yielded rapidly as the sun rose higher, therays shooting through and through, making clear roads which flashed withlight, and, as the clouds rolled away like the grey smoke of the sun'sfire, the distant cliffs, which towered up steep and straight, like sometitanic wall, came peering out now in patches bright with green andgolden grey.
Archibald Raystoke—midshipman aboard His Majesty the king's cutter,stationed off the Freestone coast, to put a stop to the doings of asmuggler whose career the Government had thought it high time tonotice—drew in a long breath, and forgot all about hunger and cold inthe promise of a glorious day.
It was impossible to think of such trifling things in the full burst ofso much beauty, for, as the sun rose higher, the sea, which had beenblood-red and golden, began to turn of a vivid blue deeper than theclear sky overhead; the mist wreaths grew thinner and more transparent,and the pearly glistening foam, which followed the breaking of each waveat the foot of the mighty cliffs, added fresh beauty to the gloriousscene.
"Look here, Dirty Dick," began the middy, who burst out into a heartyfit of laughter as he saw the broad-shouldered sailor give his face arub with the back of his hands, and look at them one after the other.
"Does it come off, Dick?" he said.
"Nay, sir; nothin' comes off," said the man dolefully. "'Tis my naturtoo, but it seems werry hard to be called dirty, when you arn't."
"There, I beg pardon, Dick, and I will not call you so any more."
"Thankye, sir; I s'pose you mean it, but you'll let it out again soon asyou forget."
"No, I will not, Dick. But, I say, look here: you are a cheat, though,are you not?"
"Me, sir? No!" cried the man excitedly.
"I mean about the Lincolnshire coast. Confess it isn't half sobeautiful as this."
"Oh, yes it is, sir. It's so much flatter. Why, you can't hardly finda place to land here, without getting your boat stove in."
"If all's true, the smugglers know how to land things," said Archibald,as he gazed thoughtfully at the cliffs.
"Oh, them! O' course, sir, they can go up the cliffs, and over 'em likeflies in sugar basins. They get a spar ove