Читать книгу The Lighthouse - Robert Michael Ballantyne - Страница 2

About a mile to the eastward of the ancient town of Arbroath the shore abruptly changes its character, from a flat beach to a range of, perhaps, the wildest and most picturesque cliffs on the east coast of Scotland. Inland the country is rather flat, but elevated several hundred feet above the level of the sea, towards which it slopes gently until it reaches the shore, where it terminates in abrupt, perpendicular precipices, varying from a hundred to two hundred feet in height. In many places the cliffs overhang the water, and all along the coast they have been perforated and torn up by the waves, so as to present singularly bold and picturesque outlines, with caverns, inlets, and sequestered “coves” of every form and size.

To the top of these cliffs, in the afternoon of the day on which our tale opens, a young girl wended her way,—slowly, as if she had no other object in view than a stroll, and sadly, as if her mind were more engaged with the thoughts within than with the magnificent prospect of land and sea without. The girl was:

and apparently about twenty years of age. She sought out a quiet nook among the rocks at the top of the cliffs; near to a circular chasm, with the name of which (at that time) we are not acquainted, but which was destined ere long to acquire a new name and celebrity from an incident which shall be related in another part of this story.

Curiously enough, just about the same hour, a young man was seen to wend his way to the same cliffs, and, from no reason whatever with which we happened to be acquainted, sought out the same nook! We say “he was seen,” advisedly, for the maid with the golden hair saw him. Any ordinary observer would have said that she had scarcely raised her eyes from the ground since sitting down on a niece of flower-studded turf near the edge of the cliff, and that she certainly had not turned her head in the direction of the town. Yet she saw him,—however absurd the statement may appear, we affirm it confidently,—and knew that he was coming. Other eyes there were that also saw youth—eyes that would have caused him some degree of annoyance had he known they were upon him—eyes that he would have rejoiced to tinge with the colours black and blue! There were thirteen pair of them, belonging to twelve men and a lieutenant of the navy.

In those days the barbarous custom of impressment into the Royal Navy was in full operation. England was at war with France. Men were wanted to fight our battles, and when there was any difficulty in getting men, press-gangs were sent out to force them into the service. The youth whom we now introduce to the reader was a sailor, a strapping, handsome one, too; not, indeed, remarkable for height, being only a little above the average—five feet, ten inches or thereabouts—but noted for great depth of chest, breadth of shoulder, and development of muscle; conspicuous also for the quantity of close, clustering, light-brown curls down his head, and for the laughing glance of his dark-blue eye. Not a hero of romance, by any means. No, he was very matter of fact, and rather given to meditation than mischief.

The officer in charge of the press-gang had set his heart on this youth (so had another individual, of whom more anon!) but the youth, whose name was Ruby Brand, happened to have an old mother who was at that time in very bad health, and she had also set her heart, poor body, on the youth, and entreated him to stay at home just for one half-year. Ruby willingly consented, and from that time forward led the life of a dog in consequence of the press-gang.

Now, as we have said, he had been seen leaving the town by the lieutenant, who summoned his men and went after him—cautiously, however, in order to take him by surprise for Ruby, besides being strong and active as a lion, was slippery as an eel.

Going straight as an arrow to the spot where she of the golden hair was seated, the youth presented himself suddenly to her, sat down beside her, and exclaiming “Minnie”, put his arm round her waist.

“Oh, Ruby, don’t,” said Minnie, blushing.

Now, reader, the “don’t” and the blush had no reference to the arm round the waist, but to the relative position of their noses, mouths, and chins, a position which would have been highly improper and altogether unjustifiable but for the fact that Ruby was Minnie’s accepted lover.

“Don’t, darling, why not?” said Ruby in surprise.

“You’re so rough,” said Minnie, turning her head away.

“True, dear, I forgot to shave this morning.”

“I don’t mean that,” interrupted the girl quickly, “I mean rude and—and—is that a sea-gull?”

“No, sweetest of your sex, it’s a butterfly; but it’s all the same, as my metaphysical Uncle Ogilvy would undertake to prove to you, thus, a butterfly is white and a gull is white,—therefore, a gull is a butterfly.”

“Don’t talk nonsense, Ruby.”

“No more I will, darling, if you will listen to me while I talk sense.”

“What is it?” said the girl, looking earnestly and somewhat anxiously into her lover’s face, for she knew at once by his expression that he had some unpleasant communication to make. “You’re not going away?”

“Well, no—not exactly; you know I promised to stay with mother; but the fact is that I’m so pestered and hunted down by that rascally press-gang, that I don’t know what to do. They’re sure to nab me at last, too, and then I shall have to go away whether I will or no, so I’ve made up my mind as a last resource, to—” Ruby paused.

“Well?” said Minnie.

“Well, in fact to do what will take me away for a short time, but—” Ruby stopped short, and, turning his head on one side, while a look of fierce anger overspread his face, seemed to listen intently.

Minnie did not observe this action for a few seconds, but, wondering why he paused, she looked up, and in surprise exclaimed— “Ruby! what do you—”

“Hush! Minnie, and don’t look round,” said he in a low tone of intense anxiety, yet remaining immovably in the position which he had assumed on first sitting down by the girl’s side, although the swelled veins of his neck and his flushed forehead told of a fierce conflict of feeling within. “It’s the press-gang after me again. I got a glance of one o’ them out of the tail of my eye, creeping round the rocks. They think I haven’t seen them. Darling Minnie—one kiss. Take care of mother if I don’t turn up soon.”

“But how will you escape?”

“Hush, dearest girl! I want to have as much of you as I can before I go. Don’t be afraid. They’re honest British tars after all, and won’t hurt you, Minnie.”

Still seated at the girl’s side, as if perfectly at his ease, yet speaking in quick earnest tones, and drawing her closely to him, Ruby waited until he heard a stealthy tread behind him. Then he sprang up with the speed of thought, uttered a laugh of defiance as the sailors rushed towards him, and leaping wildly off the cliff, fell a height of about fifty feet into the sea.

Minnie uttered a scream of horror, and fell fainting into the arms of the bewildered lieutenant.

“Down the cliffs—quick! he can’t escape if you look alive. Stay, one of you, and look after this girl. She’ll roll over the edge on recovering, perhaps.”

It was easy to order the men down the cliffs, but not so easy for them to obey, for the rocks were almost perpendicular at the place, and descended sheer into the water.

“Surround the spot,” shouted the lieutenant. “Scatter yourselves—away! there’s no beach here.”

The lieutenant was right. The men extended themselves along the top of the cliffs so as to prevent Ruby’s escape, in the event of his trying to ascend them, and two sailors stationed themselves in ambush in the narrow pass at the spot where the cliffs terminate in the direction of the town.

The leap taken by Ruby was a bold one. Few men could have ventured it; indeed, the youth himself would have hesitated had he not been driven almost to desperation. But he was a practised swimmer and diver, and knew well the risk he ran. He struck the water with tremendous force and sent up a great mass of foam, but he had entered it perpendicularly, feet foremost, and in a few seconds returned to the surface so close to the cliffs that they overhung him, and thus effectually concealed him from his pursuers.

Swimming cautiously along for a short distance close to the rocks, he came to the entrance of a cavern which was filled by the sea. The inner end of this cave opened into a small hollow or hole among the cliffs, up the sides of which Ruby knew that he could climb, and thus reach the top unperceived, but, after gaining the summit, there still lay before him the difficulty of eluding those who watched there. He felt, however, that nothing could be gained by delay, so he struck at once into the cave, swam to the inner end, and landed. Wringing the water out of his clothes, he threw off his jacket and vest in order to be as unencumbered as possible, and then began to climb cautiously.

Just above the spot where Ruby ascended there chanced to be stationed a seaman named Dalls. This man had lain down flat on his breast, with his head close to the edge of the cliff, so as to observe narrowly all that went on below, but, being a stout, lethargic man, he soon fell fast asleep! It was just at the spot where this man lay that Ruby reached the summit. The ascent was very difficult. At each step the hunted youth had to reach his hand as high above his head as possible, and grasp the edge of a rock or a mass of turf with great care before venturing on another step. Had one of these points of rock, or one of these tufts of grass, given way, he would infallibly have fallen down the precipice and been killed. Accustomed to this style of climbing from infancy, however, he advanced without a sensation of fear.

On reaching the top he peeped over, and, seeing that no one was near, prepared for a rush. There was a mass of brown turf on the bank above him. He grasped it with all his force, and swung himself over the edge of the cliff. In doing so he nearly scalped poor Dalls, whose hair was the “turf” which he had seized, and who, uttering a hideous yell, leaped upon Ruby and tried to overthrow him. But Dalls had met his match. He received a blow on the nose that all but felled him, and instantly after a blow on each eye, that raised a very constellation of stars in his brain, and laid him prone upon the grass.

His yell, however, and the noise of the scuffle, were heard by those of the press-gang who were nearest to the scene of conflict. They rushed to the rescue, and reached the spot just as Ruby leaped over his prostrate foe and fled towards Arbroath. They followed with a cheer, which warned the two men in ambush to be ready. Ruby was lithe as a greyhound. He left his pursuers far behind him, and dashed down the gorge leading from the cliffs to the low ground beyond.

Here he was met by the two sailors, and by the lieutenant, who had joined them. Minnie was also there, having been conducted thither by the said lieutenant, who gallantly undertook to see her safe into the town, in order to prevent any risk of her being insulted by his men. On hearing the shout of those who pursued Ruby, Minnie hurried away, intending to get free from the gang, not feeling that the lieutenant’s protection was either desirable or necessary.

When Ruby reached the middle of the gorge, which we have dignified with the name of “pass”, and saw three men ready to dispute his passage, he increased his speed. When he was almost up to them he turned aside and sprang nimbly up the almost perpendicular wall of earth on his right. This act disconcerted the men, who had prepared to receive his charge and seize him, but Ruby jumped down on the shoulders of the one nearest, and crushed him to the ground with his weight. His clenched fist caught the lieutenant between the eyes and stretched him on his back—the third man wisely drew aside to let this human thunderbolt pass by!

He did pass, and, as the impetuous and quite irresistible locomotive is brought to a sudden pause when the appropriate brakes are applied, so was he brought to a sudden halt by Minnie a hundred yards or so farther on.

“Oh! don’t stop,” she cried eagerly, and hastily thrusting him away. “They’ll catch you!”

Panting though he was, vehemently, Ruby could not restrain a laugh.

“Catch me! no, darling; but don’t be afraid of them. They won’t hurt you, Minnie, and they can’t hurt me—except in the way of cutting short our interview. Ha! here they come. Goodbye, dearest; I’ll see you soon again.”

At that moment five or six of the men came rushing down the pass with a wild cheer. Ruby made no haste to run. He stood in an easy attitude beside Minnie; leisurely kissed her little hand, and gently smoothed down her golden hair. Just as the foremost pursuer came within fifteen yards or so of them, he said, “Farewell, my lassie, I leave you in good hands”; and then, waving his cap in the air, with a cheer of more than half-jocular defiance, he turned and fled towards Arbroath as if one of the nor’-east gales, in its wildest fury, were sweeping him over the land.