# Silver Shoal Light/Chapter 9

CHAPTER IX
RANGOR HEAD
"ONCE," Jim began, "in the good days, there was a tall young lad that was trudging it down the Cornish coasts in search of adventures. Never a one had he found yet, though he had tramped many days' journey from home and was beginning to weary of it all. And one day, just at the turn of noon, he reached a little village called Radulgo. This was hardly great enough to be called even a village, for there were no more than ten or a dozen gray huts huddled together on the dunes, with fish nets spread out to dry and a few brown children scrambling in the door-yards. These children all vanished like so many water-rats as our lad (whose name, by the way, was Roger Tafferel) came up and knocked at the stoutest door. He was weary of sleeping in the sand-hollows and eating where and when he could, and he wanted a good meal and a good bed that night."
"I hope he had an easier time of it than I did in Quimpaug!" murmured Joan.
​"The door was opened by a plain, timid-looking soul, who said that she was the Widow Dargeon; and yes, she could give the young gentleman the best bed in the village, if he was set upon staying in Radulgo. So Roger unslung his kit and ate the hot meal that the widow set before him; then he turned outdoors again to walk up the beach and see what manner of place he had come upon.
"But the Widow Dargeon ran after him to the door.
"'Heed an old woman's words, sir,' said she, all trembling. 'Don't venture up the beach today. All's wrong, and the fye-token was seen among the dunes last night.'"
"May I ask what a fye-token is?" said Joan.
"The fye-token," said Jim, "is a ghostly light which burns where no light should be, and it is the illest omen that can be seen.
"'And don't, of any means, go toward Rangor Head,' said the widow, 'for 't is there something might harm you.'
"'Indeed?' said Roger. 'Then Rangor Head is where I shall go.' For was he not in search of adventure?
"He pushed out at the door and strode off up the beach. Before him, perhaps a mile or ​more away, Rangor Head stood up black as night, with the cloud-wrack wisping off its crest. In from the sea the fog was rolling white and cold. By the time Roger had walked half a mile, a chill mist was round him smotheringly close and he could barely hear his own footsteps on the shingle. There had been not a sound, when something touched his shoulder, and swinging around with a start, he saw standing there an ancient man. His face was seamed and wrinkled like a withered rose-haw, and his long white hair whipped about his cheeks like spindrift. His eyes were points of green that stared up at Roger with a look the lad could not fathom.
"'What brings you here on such a day?' asked the old man in a shrill voice. 'Strangers had maun be careful of these coasts. Better to go back to Radulgo. I'll lead ye the way.'
"'I'm going to Rangor Head,' said Roger.
"With that a look of menace crept to the old man's eyes and a sneer to his lip; but Roger struck off again. Though he heard no footfall, he knew that behind him the old man was following in the mirk. So he quickened his step—though he feared naught, for the man was ancient and feeble—and presently stood below ​Rangor Head. It loomed up above him like a great black wall, but he could not see more than the half of it, for the fog veiled the top. Around its foot the water boiled like a caldron, hissing and crawling over black, gaunt rocks where the kelp trailed and dripped.
"'What a place!' thought Roger. 'And never a light nor a beacon to warn off honest ships!' For all his stout heart, he shuddered a little as he looked down into the inky swirl below. When he raised his eyes he cried out aloud, for he saw through the reek a topsail schooner close in and driving straight for Rangor Head.
"'Can they not hear the breakers?' Roger thought. 'What can they be about? Saint Brian! She's gone!'
"For the schooner had shuddered against the rocks and was listing now, with her bows high in the air and her mainsail dipping the water. Roger shouted wildly, but his voice was drowned by the crash of the surf. He turned to ask aid and advice of the ancient man who had followed him, but he was nowhere to be seen. Roger could do nothing; the schooner was pounding herself to splinters. Before long she would be driven up at the very foot of Rangor ​Head, but that would be too late to help her crew; they could never launch a boat into that seething water.
"But as Roger stood watching, there came struggling a man close by the rock where he stood, and he flung himself down and pulled the man up beside him. He was of an outlandish race, for his face was as yellow as saffron and his hair as black as ink. He was a poor creature, with abject terror in his eyes (but not all a terror of the dangers through which he had just gone), and he clung, shivering and chattering, to Roger.
"'Come, man,' said the lad, though he knew not at all whether the fellow understood his speech. 'Get upon your feet and take my shoulder.' And he dragged him up. So, half carrying, half pulling the man, he tramped back down the shore, for as far as he could see there were no other survivors of the wreck.
"When he reached the village, the Widow Dargeon shrieked at sight of the Yellow Man and cowered back behind the door. Roger did not stop, but got the man to his room beside the kitchen and gave him enough brandy to warm him; then rolled him, dried but still shivering, into the good feather-bed.
​"'Stay you there,' said Roger, 'and to-morrow you'll be as fit as a flint.'
"With that he went out again and turned up the beach toward the schooner. What amazed him most was that there was not a sign of life in Radulgo. The doors were shut; even the children had disappeared.
"'It's not possible that they do not know of the wreck,' he thought. 'Why are they not all turned out to help, or, at least, to watch?'
"The fog was lifting a bit, and as Roger came near the Head he saw two dark figures, with a third between them. This form was dressed in white and seemed to be that of a woman. As he started running down the beach, he heard a shriek; when he raised his eyes he saw that all three had vanished. Reaching the spot, he saw absolutely nothing. The waves licked silently up the shingle; before him Rangor Head brooded over the shattered schooner; above, a lone gull screamed uncannily.
"Night was beginning to fall now, and Roger, seeing no living thing near the wreck, turned back once more to Radulgo. When he entered his own room he found, to his astonishment, that the feather-bed was empty; the Yellow Man had disappeared! On the table lay a crinkling ​heap of black ashes that had been a paper and a scrap of charred and tarry string. Roger's questioning of the Widow Dargeon gave him little satisfaction. She vowed she had seen no one pass in or out; but ever and anon she looked furtively out at the window, twisting her apron.
"As Roger pulled off his boots that night, he caught sight of a torn bit of paper which had fluttered under the bed, perhaps from the document burned at the table. It was a small corner, torn across, and only these words were legible: ". . . rocks of Ra . . . for which we agre . . . sum of £20 . . .' Roger could make neither head nor tail of it, and went to sleep, worn out with a deal of trudging and excitement.
"It might have been almost any hour of the night, when he woke with his heart thumping and the knowledge that something was in his room. He lay deathly still, and heard a cautious, groping hand feeling, feeling, ever nearer to him. Finally it passed over his face, cold and wet with salt fog, and he had much ado to keep silent. A whisper so faint that it seemed scarcely real breathed at his ear.
"'Go, Kalikao!' it said. 'Go while you may!'
​"Roger thrust out his arms of a sudden, with a muttered exclamation, but his hands clutched at air, and in the darkness he caught a green flash of the ancient man's eyes. The warning was very plainly meant for the Yellow Man, but the lad cared little to stay in such an unchancey spot and sprang out of bed. The striking of a light showed the room to be empty, and he flung on his clothes hurriedly. He left a half-crown upon the kitchen table, to pay his night's lodging, and stepped out into the night.
"He had no idea of what hour it might be, but as he drew near Ranger Head, the day began to break, lowering and cold. Out of the gray came stepping two great tall fellows, as though they had risen from the sand. They were dressed in the blue jerseys of common fisher-folk, and touched their caps civilly enough.
"'Morning to you, sir,' said one. 'Where'll you be going so early?'
"'I'm off to have another look at the wreck,' said Roger.
"'Wreck?' said the man. 'I know of no wreck, sir.'
"'It's not possible,' cried Roger, 'that you've not seen the great schooner that went on ​the rocks yesterday! Why, she's yonder, man; you can almost see her!'
"As he pointed up the beach, the two men hurled themselves upon him at once and bore him down. Despite his struggle—for he was a strong lad—they bound him hand and foot.
"'It's best for you not to look again at no wrecks about here, sir," said the taller of the two fellows, and off they strode.
"After Roger had struggled vainly for a time, and his first fury had passed, he looked about him and saw that he was in a very unlikely position. He lay upon the utmost edge of the shingle, and the tide was rising, creeping ever nearer and nearer to him with wet, hungry fingers.
"'At least,' thought Roger, 'I must get me away from the water.'
"For well he knew the quick flood of the Cornish tides that pursued swiftly and relentlessly. By dint of much rolling and wriggling he hitched himself farther up the sand, where, luckily enough for him, he found a great strip of rusted iron from a ship's keel. Feverishly he set about rubbing the cords that bound his hands against the edge of this. There was no time to lose, for the place where he sat was far ​below high-water mark. Even as he sawed and chafed at the fraying rope, a wave licked about his leg, cold as ice. The next, he knew, would cover him; the next— The water dashed over him, drenching him with a rush of spray. He struggled up, half smothered. Desperately he attacked his bonds again. The cord parted! In a flash he had drawn his knife and cut his ankles free. He leaped up as the next wave surged around him and, turning, raced up the beach.
"Though he was wet to the skin and shivering with cold, it was impossible to go back to Radulgo, and there was nothing for it but to strike across country. But what with climbing up and up from the shore and stumbling through the gorse in the early light, he lost his direction and found himself at last upon the far side of Rangor Head. The great rock dropped sheer away at his feet, with gulls screaming halfway down its towering height; and below lay a little crescent of white sand. Great needle-like rocks sprang from the sea before it, and the crag rose straight behind, so that Roger thought no human foot could ever have trod the place. Yet, as he lay in the heather, gazing down at the smother of foam far below, he saw the figure ​of a woman in a white dress, and she was weeping bitterly. Roger put his hands to his mouth and shouted down the rock, and she heard him above the roar of the surf and held out her arms in a desperate appeal. Roger was a brave lad and not one to see a lady in distress and leave her unaided, so what must he do but prepare to climb down the face of that horrible crag."
"He must have had awfully good sea-legs," murmured Garth.
"He had excellent ones, but, even so, it was a fearful and dangerous thing. There was but little foothold, and Roger clung with his hands and gripped with his knees, catching now at a stunted gorse bush growing from a crack, now at a crumbling niche in the rock. The gulls, fearful for their nests, swooped shrieking past him, and the grinding roar of the breakers was far below. But at last he stood panting on the sand beside the lady, whose beautiful face was as white as her gown. She caught Roger's arm.
"'Why did you come?' she cried. 'Now there will be but another to perish here!'
"'But how were you brought here?' asked Roger. 'Surely, where there is a way in, there must also be a way out.'
"'Alas,' sighed the lady, 'it is an unhappy ​tale. Only yesterday at noon we were safe aboard the good schooner Arthgallo, bound for Perth. But when we neared this dangerous coast the captain was troubled and took on a pilot, an ill-favored man, yellow as a citron.'
"'Ah!' said Roger.
"'As we rounded this fearful headland,' the lady went on, 'I saw the yellow man turn the wheel suddenly with all his might, and then, with a scream of terror and agony, he leaped overboard. A sailor sprang to the wheel, but it was too late,—the ship had driven upon the rocks. Of all those who were aboard, it seems that I am the only survivor. I was dragged down the beach by two of the cruel wreckers who were gathering around the broken ship, and I was thrust into a dark and noisome tunnel in the cliffs.'
"'Ah,' said Roger, 'that was when I saw you so suddenly disappear and could not believe my eyes. And no wonder the Yellow Man was in such terror! Well might he have been warned to escape! And this now becomes clearer.' He drew from his pocket the torn bit of paper, which he saw now might easily have read: 'It is hereby covenanted that you run the schooner Arthgallo upon the rocks of Rangor Head, for ​which service we agree to pay you the sum of £20.'
"'But proceed with your story, madam,' he said.
"'The men closed the entrance of the tunnel with a great rock,' said the lady, 'which they well knew no woman could remove, and left me to creep through the danky dripping cavern. After much difficulty I saw light gleaming at last, and finally stood, as you see, upon this isolated beach.'
"Roger now told his tale. From the two it was quite plain that the wreckers, or smugglers, or whatever the villainous population of Radulgo might be called, meant to let no strangers escape to the outer world with news of their doings.
"'But show me this tunnel,' said Roger; 'perhaps where woman's strength is not enough, man's will prevail.'
"She pointed out a dark opening in the cliff, and together they crept in. At times the ledge of rock along which they crawled dropped away at one side, and they could hear inky water choking and swirling below. Sometimes there was room enough for them to stand upright, but always they were in smothering darkness. At ​length chinks of light showed about the edge of the great stone which had been rolled against the mouth of the passage. Roger set his shoulder to it and, with a mighty thrust, jarred it from its balance, and it fell thundering. They stepped out upon the beach above Radulgo, under Rangor Head. Just before them, high and dry upon the rocks, lay the Arthgallo. She had been thoroughly dismantled by the wreckers; everything which could be carried away was gone. But beyond, standing out to sea, was a great ship—"
"A square-rigger, Fogger?"
"Yes, a square-rigger. She was towering along under a misty cloud of canvas, with a line of white water at her foot. And the lady rigged a white petticoat upon a long staff, and Roger kindled a fire of damp driftwood. So, between them, they signaled in distress, but the ship paid no heed. But lo! just as she seemed ready to stand off again and pass them by, of a sudden she backed up her tops'ls and hove to, and they saw the long-boat put off from her. And I think that's a rather good place to stop."
"Fogger! But what happened to the wreckers? Didn't they be captured?" Garth clutched his father excitedly.
​"Oh, of course! The captain of the ship sent ashore a landing-force with carbines and cutlasses, and all of the evil folk who hadn't escaped already were taken and put in chains. And they found any quantity of gold, and spices, and carven jade, and loot of all kinds, stowed away in caves about Rangor Head."
"What became of the Yellow Man?" asked Joan.
"Kalikao? He was never seen again; that is, not in this story."
"And Roger and the lady?" said Elspeth.
"As for them," said Jim, "I suppose they were married and lived happily ever after. And if we don't want schooners and tugs running up on the Reef, we'd better make sail and back to the Light before sunset. Up you go, Pem!"