Thirty long minutes ticked away before Nick thrust his head over the edge of the hatchway and called: "Tide's on the ebb, Cap'n."
Abandoning the cards they all went on deck, a lantern was hoisted on the forestay and at a word from Dan the hawsers were cast off. Two of the men got out long sweeps and, as the lugger drifted away from the quayside, began to pole her out into open water. Dan took the tiller and gave another order, the sweeps were drawn inboard and the jib was set. It slapped for a moment, then bellied out, soon giving the ship enough way for Dan to steer her into the channel, and with the water barely rippling along her sides she dropped smoothly down river.
Roger looked back towards Lymington. Across the marshes he could see the two small beacons that marked the entrance to the harbour and the vague outline of the massed houses behind them; but the long, low salt-pans, from which for centuries the town had supplied half England and made a handsome revenue, were hidden by the darkness, as was the roof of his own home which he would have been able to make out easily, between its sheltering trees, had it been daytime.
Quarter of an hour of gentle tacking round the bends of the creek brought them to its mouth. The breeze seemed fresher now and Dan gave orders for the mainsail to be hoisted. Roger joined the others in hauling on the sheet; the wooden rings rattled against the mast, the boom swung over and the great spread of canvas rose above them. Leaving the land on their starboard beam they headed out towards the western extremity of the Isle of Wight.
After his long sleep Roger was not the least tired and he sat by Dan staring out with eager eyes into the darkness. Ahead he could see the warning beacon flashing on the cruel rocks of the Needles, to his left the friendly lights of Yarmouth harbour but to the right the great sweep of the mainland showed no signs of human occupation. In vain he searched the dark horizon there for a glimpse of Highcliffe Tower, but it was hidden by the night, so he could only gaze at a spot where he imagined it to be, as he thought of the beautiful Georgina, and wondered if she was still awake and thinking of him, or sound asleep in the big warm bed on which they had shared out her treasure that afternoon.
Giving the Needles a wide berth Dan turned the lugger out to sea and it was some half-hour after this new course had been set that Roger, chancing to glance astern, suddenly saw the faint shimmer of foam creaming at one solitary place in the gloom behind them.
"Dan!" he gasped in an excited whisper: "We're being followed! Look astern there! Naught but a ship's bow cutting through the wake could churn it up so steadily."
"Be easy, lad," Dan replied with unaccustomed familiarity, "There be more mysteries to this trade o' ours than 'e would wot of." Then, to Roger's surprise, he gave orders to douse the lights and lower the sails, and the lugger hove to.
The shimmer of foam rapidly grew to what seemed a quite abnormal height, until it was sufficiently near for Roger suddenly to realise that only the base of the pyramid at which he was gazing was formed of water and that from it rose the brow of a white-painted ship. A moment later her masts and sails were visible, and, checking her speed as she came up with them, she emerged like a ghost-ship out of the night, a trim little two-masted schooner.
Hails were exchanged with the newcomer, then Dan hoisted his jib and after a certain amount of manoeuvring the two ships were brought alongside one another. The schooner's counter was slightly higher than that of the lugger, but by leaning over it the men in her could converse with Dan and his mates without raising their voices.
There was a brief interchange of questions and answers and on both parties ascertaining that all was well with the other Dan said to Roger, "Run, get thy bag, lad. We be goin' aboard her."
Roger hesitated. He had already given Dan the five pounds and he wondered unhappily if the smuggler, having been so averse to taking him in the first place, had later thought up some trick for getting his money but not taking him after all. He had now recognised the white schooner as the Albatross, out of Yarmouth, and suspected that he was to be put aboard her for shipment back to the island.
"What's toward, Dan?" he asked, striving to keep the uneasiness he felt out of his voice. "Why must I board her?"
" Tis not for 'e to ask questions," Dan replied gruffly. "Do as 'e's bid, an' smart about it, now."
Being in no position to argue, Roger turned away. If they intended to send him back there was nothing he could do about it, and no way in which he could recover his money from Dan, either. It was the first dealing he had had with lawless characters and he felt again how incompetent he was to hold his own outside the secure world he knew, in that where poverty made men unscrupulous.
The thought that he still had some fourteen pounds in cash upon him was some consolation. That was enough to get him to London and keep him for a week or two there. But suddenly it flashed upon him that the smugglers might rob him of the rest of his money before putting him ashore.
Hastening his steps he dived down into the cabin, pulled off his boots and poured his guineas and crowns into them, leaving only some small change in his pocket. In something of a panic now he pulled out the bulky packet of Georgina's jewels and wondered how he could possibly manage to conceal it. After a second he tore the silk scarf he was wearing from around his neck, spread it out on the table, undid the packet of jewels and poured them on to it. Rolling the scarf up he tied each of its ends in a knot and the middle with a strand of hemp that was lying handy; then he undid his clothes and arranged the long uneven sausage round his waist next his skin, in such a way that the leather belt of his breeches would keep it in position. He was still stuffing back his shirt over it when Dan's stentorian voice came to him.
"Below there! What the hell's keeping 'e?"
"Coming!" called Roger, and he stumbled up on deck again.
To his surprise he saw that several strange men from the schooner were now aboard the lugger and that her own crew were in the process of climbing over the schooner's counter. Evidently the two ships were exchanging crews and this, though queer, seemed somewhat reassuring; so, without further attempt to secure an explanation, he followed Dan aboard the Albatross.
The exchange having been made the two ships cast off. Amidst a chorus of muttered farewells from their crews the bumpers were hauled in and they drew apart.
When the Sally Ann had been swallowed up in the darkness Roger made his way down to the schooner's cabin. It was roomier and somewhat cleaner than that of the lugger, and it had eight bunks instead of only four. Depositing his satchel on one of them he went up again to seek out Dan, now feeling a twinge of remorse at his recent fears that the smuggler intended to cheat and rob him.
The crew were busy setting the sails and Dan was standing at the break of the shallow poop behind the big wheel.
"I've no wish to pry, Dan," Roger said as he joined him, "but
I'm all agog to know the reason for the exchange we've just made. Won't you tell me what lies behind it?"
The smuggler laughed. "Aye, why not. 'E'll find out for 'e's self soon enough. 'Tis this way. The Riding Officers be mighty spry these days roun' Mudeford and Bourne Heath; but the Isle o' Wight has quiet covers a plenty, so 'tis there we now run our cargoes. Then the Yarmouth lads bring 'em over piecemeal, a few kegs at a time, in the little boats that be always plyin' to an' fro from the island."