# The Three Cutters/Chapter IV

The Happy-go-lucky sailed with a fresh breeze and a flowing sheet from Saint Malo, the evening before the Arrow sailed from Barn Pool. The Active sailed from Portsmouth the morning after.
The yacht, as we before observed, was bound to Cowes, in the Isle of Wight. The Active had orders to cruise wherever she pleased within the limits of the admiral’s station; and she ran for West Bay, on the other side of the Bill of Portland. The Happy-go-lucky was also bound for that bay to land her cargo.
The wind was light, and there was every appearance of fine weather, when the Happy-go-lucky, at ten o’clock on the Tuesday night, made the Portland lights; as it was impossible to run her cargo that night, she hove to.
At eleven o’clock the Portland lights were made by the revenue-cutter Active. Mr. Appleboy went up to have a look at them, ordered the cutter to be hove to, and then went down to finish his allowance of gin-toddy. At twelve o’clock, the yacht Arrow made the Portland lights, and continued her course, hardly stemming the ebb tide.
Day broke, and the horizon was clear. The first on the look-out were, of course, the smugglers; they, and those on board the revenue-cutter, were the only two interested parties—the yacht was neuter.
“There are two cutters in sight, sir,” said Corbett, who had the watch; for Pickersgill, having been up the whole night, had thrown himself down on the bed with his clothes on.
“What do they look like?” said Pickersgill, who was up in a moment.
“One is a yacht, and the other may be; but I rather think, as far as I can judge in the grey, that it is our old friend off here.”
“What! Old Appleboy?”
“Yes, it looks like him; but the day has scarcely broke yet.”
“Well, he can do nothing in a light wind like this; and before the wind we can show him our heels: but are you sure the other is a yacht?” said Pickersgill, coming on deck.
“Yes; the king is more careful of his canvas.”
“You’re right,” said Pickersgill, “that is a yacht; and you’re right there again in your guess—that is the stupid old Active which creeps about creeping for tubs. Well, I see nothing to alarm us at present, provided it don’t fall a dead calm, and then we must take to our boats as soon as he takes to his; we are four miles from him at least. Watch his motions, Corbett, and see if he lowers a boat. What does she go now? Four knots?—that will soon tire their men.”
The positions of the three cutters were as follows:—
The Happy-go-lucky was about four miles off Portland Head, and well into West Bay. The revenue-cutter was close to the Head. The yacht was outside of the smuggler, about two miles to the westward, and about five or six miles from the revenue-cutter.
“Two vessels in sight, sir,” said Mr. Smith, coming down into the cabin to Mr. Appleboy.
“Very well,” replied the lieutenant, who was lying down in his standing bed-place.
“The people say one is the Happy-go-lucky, sir,” drawled Smith.
“Heh? What! Happy-go-lucky? Yes, I recollect; I’ve boarded her twenty times—always empty. How’s she standing?”
“She stands to the westward now, sir; but she was hove to, they say, when they first saw her.”
“Then she has a cargo in her,” and Mr. Appleboy shaved himself, dressed, and went on deck.
“Yes,” said the lieutenant, rubbing his eyes again and again, and then looking through the glass, “it is her, sure enough. Let draw the foresheet-hands make sail. What vessel’s the other?”
“Don’t know, sir,—she’s a cutter.”
“A cutter? Yes, may be a yacht, or may be the new cutter ordered on the station. Make all sail, Mr. Tomkins: hoist our pendant, and fire a gun—they will understand what we mean then; they don’t know the Happy-go-lucky as well as we do.”
In a few minutes the Active was under a press of sail; she hoisted her pendant, and fired a gun. The smuggler perceived that the Active had recognised her, and she also threw out more canvas, and ran off more to the westward.
“There’s a gun, sir,” reported one of the men to Mr. Stewart, on board of the yacht.
“Yes; give me the glass—a revenue-cutter; then this vessel in shore running towards us must be a smuggler.”
“She has just now made all sail, sir.”
“Yes, there’s no doubt of it. I will go down to his lordship; keep her as she goes.”
Mr. Stewart then went down to inform Lord B— of the circumstance. Not only Lord B— but most of the gentlemen came on deck; as did soon afterwards the ladies, who had received the intelligence from Lord B—, who spoke to them through the door of the cabin.
But the smuggler had more wind than the revenue-cutter, and increased her distance.
“If we were to wear round, my lord,” observed Mr. Stewart, “she is just abreast of us and in shore, we could prevent her escape.”
“Round with her, Mr. Stewart,” said Lord B—; “we must do our duty and protect the laws.”
“That will not be fair, papa,” said Cecilia Ossulton; “we have no quarrel with the smuggler: I’m sure the ladies have not, for they bring us beautiful things.”
“Miss Ossulton,” observed her aunt, “it is not proper for you to offer an opinion.”
The yacht wore round, and, sailing so fast, the smuggler had little chance of escaping her; but to chase is one thing—to capture, another.
“Let us give her a gun,” said Lord B—, “that will frighten her; and he dare not cross our hawse.”
The gun was loaded, and not being more than a mile from the smuggler, actually threw the ball almost a quarter of the way.
The gentlemen, as well as Lord B—, were equally excited by the ardour of pursuit; but the wind died away, and at last it was nearly calm. The revenue-cutter’s boats were out, and coming up fast.
“Let us get our boat out, Stewart,” said his lordship, “and help them; it is quite calm now.”
The boat was soon out: it was a very large one, usually stowed on, and occupying a large portion of, the deck. It pulled six oars; and when it was manned, Mr. Stewart jumped in, and Lord B— followed him.
“But you have no arms,” said Mr. Hautaine.
“The smugglers never resist now,” observed Stewart.
“Then you are going on a very gallant expedition, indeed,” observed Cecilia Ossulton; “I wish you joy.”
But Lord B— was too much excited to pay attention. They shoved off, and pulled towards the smuggler.
At this time the revenue boats were about five miles astern of the Happy-go-lucky, and the yacht about three-quarters of a mile from her in the offing. Pickersgill had, of course, observed the motions of the yacht; had seen her wear on chase, hoist her ensign and pendant, and fire her gun.
“Well,” said he, “this is the blackest ingratitude! To be attacked by the very people whom we smuggle for! I only wish she may come up with us; and, let her attempt to interfere, she shall rue the day: I don’t much like this, though.”
As we before observed, it fell nearly calm, and the revenue boats were in chase. Pickersgill watched them as they came up.
“What shall we do?” said Corbett,—“get the boat out?”
“Yes,” replied Pickersgill, “we will get the boat out, and have the goods in her all ready; but we can pull faster than they do, in the first place; and, in the next, they will be pretty well tired before they come up to us. We are fresh, and shall soon walk away from them; so I shall not leave the vessel till they are within half a mile. We must sink the ankers, that they may not seize the vessel, for it is not worth while taking them with us. Pass them along, ready to run them over the bows, that they may not see us and swear to it. But we have a good half hour, and more.”
“Ay, and you may hold all fast if you choose,” said Morrison, “although it’s better to be on the right side and get ready; otherwise, before half an hour, I’ll swear that we are out of their sight. Look there,” said he, pointing to the eastward at a heavy bank, “it’s coming right down upon us, as I said it would.”
“True enough; but still there is no saying which will come first, Morrison, the boats or the fog; so we must be prepared.”
“Hilloa! What’s this? Why, there’s a boat coming from the yacht!”
Pickersgill took out his glass.
“Yes, and the yacht’s own boat with the name painted on her bows. Well, let them come—we will have no ceremony in resisting them; they are not in the Act of Parliament, and must take the consequences. We have nought to fear. Get stretchers, my lads, and hand-spikes; they row six oars, and are three in the stern-sheets: they must be good men if they take us.”
In a few minutes Lord B— was close to the smuggler.
“Boat ahoy! What do you want?”
“Surrender in the king’s name.”
“To what, and to whom, and what are we to surrender? We are an English vessel coasting along shore.”
“Pull on board, my lads,” cried Stewart; “I am a king’s officer: we know her.”
The boat darted alongside, and Stewart and Lord B—, followed by the men, jumped on the deck.
“Well, gentlemen, what do you want?” said Pickersgill.
“We seize you! You are a smuggler,—there’s no denying it: look at the casks of spirits stretched along the deck.”
“We never said that we were not smugglers,” replied Pickersgill; “but what is that to you? You are not a king’s ship, or employed by the revenue.”
“No; but we carry a pendant, and it is our duty to protect the laws.”
“And who are you?” said Pickersgill.
“I am Lord B—.”
“Then, my lord, allow me to say that you would do much better to attend to the framing of laws, and leave people of less consequence, like those astern of me, to execute them. ‘Mind your own business,’ is an old adage. We shall not hurt you, my lord, as you have only employed words, but we shall put it out of your power to hurt us. Come aft, my lads. Now, my lord, resistance is useless; we are double your numbers, and you have caught a Tartar.”
Lord B— and Mr. Stewart perceived that they were in an awkward predicament.
“You may do what you please,” observed Mr. Stewart, “but the revenue boats are coming up, recollect.”
“Look you, sir, do you see the revenue-cutter?” said Pickersgill.
Stewart looked in that direction and saw that she was hidden in the fog.
“In five minutes, sir, the boats will be out of sight also, and so will your vessel; we have nothing to fear from them.”
“Indeed, my lord, we had better return,” said Mr. Stewart, who perceived that Pickersgill was right.
“I beg your pardon, you will not go on board your yacht so soon as you expect. Take the oars out of the boat; my lads, two or three of you, and throw in a couple of our paddles for them to reach the shore with. The rest of you knock down the first man who offers to resist. You are not aware, perhaps, my lord, that you have attempted piracy on the high seas?”
Stewart looked at Lord B—. It was true enough. The men of the yacht could offer no resistance; the oars were taken out of the boat and the men put in again.
“My lord,” said Pickersgill, “your boat is manned, do me the favour to step into it; and you, sir, do the same. I should be sorry to lay my hands upon a peer of the realm, or a king’s officer even on half pay.”
Remonstrance was vain; his lordship was led to the boat by two of the smugglers, and Stewart followed.
“I will leave your oars, my lord, at the Weymouth Custom-house, and I trust this will be a lesson to you in future to ‘mind your own business.’”
The boat was shoved off from the sloop by the smugglers, and was soon lost sight of in the fog, which had now covered the revenue boats as well as the yacht, at the same time it brought down a breeze from the eastward.
“Haul to the wind, Morrison,” said Pickersgill, “we will stand out to get rid of the boats; if they pull on they will take it for granted that we shall run into the bay, as will the revenue-cutter.”
Pickersgill and Corbett were in conversation abaft for a short time, when the former desired the course to be altered two points.
“Keep silence all of you, my lads, and let me know if you hear a gun or a bell from the yacht,” said Pickersgill.
“There is a gun, sir, close to us,” said one of the men; “the sound was right ahead.”
“That will do, keep her as she goes. Aft here, my lads; we cannot run our cargo in the bay, for the cutter has been seen to chase us, and they will all be on the look-out at the preventive stations for us on shore. Now, my lads, I have made up my mind that, as these yacht gentlemen have thought proper to interfere, that I will take possession of the yacht for a few days. We shall then outsail everything, go where we like unsuspected, and land our cargo with ease. I shall run alongside of her—she can have but few hands on board; and mind, do not hurt anybody, but be civil and obey my orders. Morrison, you and your four men and the boy will remain on board as before, and take the vessel to Cherbourg, where we will join you.”
In a short time another gun was fired from the yacht.
Those on board, particularly the ladies, were alarmed; the fog was very thick, and they could not distinguish the length of the vessel. They had seen the boat board, but had not seen her turned adrift without oars, as the fog came on just at that time. The yacht was left with only three seamen on board, and should it come on bad weather, they were in an awkward predicament. Mr. Hautaine had taken the command, and ordered the guns to be fired that the boat might be enabled to find them. The fourth gun was loading, when they perceived the smuggler’s cutter close to them looming through the fog.
“Here they are,” cried the seamen; “and they have brought the prize along with them! Three cheers for the Arrow!”
“Hilloa! You’ll be on board of us?” cried Hautaine.
“That’s exactly what I intend to be, sir,” replied Pickersgill, jumping on the quarter-deck, followed by his men.
“Who the devil are you?”
“That’s exactly the same question that I asked Lord B— when he boarded us,” replied Pickersgill, taking off his hat to the ladies.
“Well, but what business have you here?”
“Exactly the same question which I put to Lord B—,” replied Pickersgill.
“Where is Lord B—, sir?” said Cecilia Ossulton, going up to the smuggler; “is he safe?”
“Yes, madam, he is safe; at least he is in his boat with all his men, and unhurt: but you must excuse me if I request you and the other ladies to go down below while I speak to these gentlemen. Be under no alarm, miss, you will receive neither insult nor ill-treatment—I have only taken possession of this vessel for the present.”
“Take possession,” cried Hautaine, “of a yacht.”
“Yes, sir, since the owner of the yacht thought proper to attempt to take possession of me. I always thought that yachts were pleasure-vessels, sailing about for amusement, respected themselves, and not interfering with others; but it appears that such is not the case. The owner of this yacht has thought proper to break through the neutrality and commence aggression, and under such circumstances I have now, in retaliation, taken possession of her.”
“And, pray, what do you mean to do, sir?”
“Simply for a few days to make an exchange. I shall send you on board of my vessel as smugglers, while I remain here with the ladies and amuse myself with yachting.”
“Why, sir, you cannot mean—”
“I have said, gentlemen, and that is enough; I should be sorry to resort to violence, but I must be obeyed. You have, I perceive, three seamen only left: they are not sufficient to take charge of the vessel, and Lord B— and the others you will not meet for several days. My regard for the ladies, even common humanity, points out to me that I cannot leave the vessel in this crippled condition. At the same time, I must have hands on board of my own, you will oblige me by going on board and taking her safely into port. It is the least return you can make for my kindness. In those dresses, gentlemen, you will not be able to do your duty: oblige me by shifting and putting on these.” Corbett handed a flannel shirt, a rough jacket and trousers, to Messrs. Hautaine, Ossulton, Vaughan, and Seagrove. After some useless resistance they were stripped, and having put on the smugglers’ attire, they were handed on board of the Happy-go-lucky.
The three English seamen were also sent on board and confined below, as well as Ossulton’s servant, who was also equipped like his master, and confined below with the seamen. Corbett and the men then handed up all the smuggled goods into the yacht, dropped the boat, and made it fast astern, and Morrison having received his directions, the vessels separated, Morrison running for Cherbourg, and Pickersgill steering the yacht along shore to the westward. About an hour after this exchange had been effected the fog cleared up, and showed the revenue-cutter hove to for her boats, which had pulled back and were close on board of her, and the Happy-go-lucky about three miles in the offing; Lord B— and his boat’s crew were about four miles in shore, paddling and drifting with the tide towards Portland. As soon as the boats were on board, the revenue-cutter made all sail after the smuggler, paying no attention to the yacht, and either not seeing or not caring about the boat which was drifting about in West Bay.