CHAPTER XX

EXAMINATIONS--ADRIFT ON THE DEEP

Examinations were coming on apace. The end of the half was near. Prizes had been established by gentlemen of the neighbourhood, and the diligent ones were striving for them with assiduous application to study. The sports of the students had little attraction for Ande now. Even had he not been sent to Coventry, he would have avoided them for the extra chance it gave him for work. He was determined to win the prize for general scholarship in the fifth. There were others working for the same goal, among them, Tenny, the former head. Tenny's ambition was of a double nature. Not only must he win the general prize, but also the silver medal for the best essay. The days sped rapidly by, and soon came the day of examination. The essays had been handed in to a special committee, some time previous, under various nom-de-plumes.

Most of the examinations were oral, and occupied some time. Generally, the master would put the questions, but at times one of the visiting gentlemen would throw in a question bearing on the special subject under consideration.

The contest of general scholarship in the fifth was manifestly between two students,--the old and the new head, and even after it was over, none could prophesy how the judges would decide. The decision came, after a brief pause and consultation.

The Reverend Mr. Trewan arose, and after clearing his throat several times began by complimenting the students.

"I am pleased to find the excellent form in which most of our scholars have passed this examination. The marks are far above the average of the half. I am glad to state that the whole form will enter the sixth at the next half without a single exception."

There was a little cheer from the mass of students.

"In reference to the prize for the general scholarship, there are two between which there has been a close contest. For quite a time one was in the forerank and the other close behind. Then the marks were even. Then the second forged ahead. Master Tenny," and the head paused to clear his throat, while Tenny flushed with gratification, "your marks have been admirable; they were far ahead of your average during the year. For quite a time you were ahead, then even with another, Master Trembath, then Master Trembath gained first place. The prize goes to him, however, who has the highest average of the whole examination, and I, therefore, declare Master Trembath the winner by four points; and the committee has given Master Tenny the highest honourable mention."

The master paused and extended twenty pounds to Ande, the prize for general scholarship. Dick was the first to congratulate him, and was followed by one or two others, notwithstanding the decree of Coventry. Tenny maintained his silence in bitter chagrin. He had hopes of the essay prize, however, the chairman of which committee now arose to report.

"We find," he said, after a little preliminary speech, "that six of the essays were most laudable, but out of them two were selected for their excellence--one on account of the beauty of the language, the other on account of its vivid realism and striking, rhetorical figures. The one written by Hector is admirable in wording and has many fine points, but lacks the realism and subject matter and thought of the other. We have decided that the silver medal goes to him who has adopted the certainly inappropriate and inapplicable nom-de-plume of Asinus Cornubiensus."

There was a pause, and the students at length, realising the meaning of the Latin nom-de-plume, which was the "Ass, or Donkey of Cornwall," burst into a roar of laughter.

"Certainly," resumed the gentleman, "this Asinus Cornubiensus has demonstrated a grasp of thought, power of language, and vivid description that belies his humble name, and renders him worthy of the prize. Stand up, Asinus Cornubiensus, and receive the silver medal."

Dick stood up, much confused, and received the prize. There was a cheer. Even Ande was astonished, and greeted his old friend with more respect. It is needless to say that Hector was Tenny, who was bubbling over with rage and mortification, to think that he was not only beaten in the general prize but also in the essay, and in the latter case by one whom he had always considered a stupid dunce, the worst scholar in the form.

The rest of the day was dedicated to the examinations of the sixth and the distribution of prizes in that form. Our two prize winners of the fifth wended their way out from the school and hied away from the town to one of their accustomed haunts, near the coast, high up on the cliffs. Here, throwing themselves down on the long grass, they watched, for the time, the active sea-birds and the flitting sails far out on the channel. At length, turning from the contemplation of these, Ande addressed his friend.

"Dick, what led you to choose such a queer nom-de-plume?" and he smiled.

"Well, I was always considered a dull'ead and never thinking I'd get the medal, I put down the name in a little disgust, thinking it to be the most appropriate one."

"What was the subject?"

"You can't guess?"

"No."

"Well, it was on that hurling game between Breage and our fellows, and I just played the game over again in imagination when I was writing."

"That accounts for its realism, no doubt."

"Did 'ee notice Tenny after the general prize was given?"

"No."

"His face was as wisht[7] as a herring."

[7] Wisht--sickly.

"No doubt. I noticed him after the silver medal was given and he was green around the eyes."

"Serves him right," said Dick, "for sending us to Coventry on account of that tale of Creakle about your father and grandfather."

There was silence for a moment, unbroken save by the breaking of the waves on the beach beneath.

"Dick, you asked me once out of curiosity concerning that tale and I am now going to tell you and get your ideas. You have a better head than we gave you credit for."

"Fudge, Ande, your head would make two of mine, but fire away. I've been anxious for a long time to know."

Ande related the history of his family and the treasonable stain, while his companion listened attentively, and sympathetically. The tale was related to the finish.

"And the papers?"

"They were all confiscated except two, that are now in my possession."

"And your father?"

"He left a letter. You see the last letter that my mother received before father's disappearance contained one sealed, directed to me, which should be given to me when I came to mature years. It was given me when I came first to the Grammar School. Here it is," said Ande, as he pulled out of his inside pocket a long envelope that had been sealed with red wax.

"I have long since made myself familiar with its contents, but I am now going to read it to you," and opening it he read the following:

"FORT MALDEN, Canada, Sept. 10th, 1813."

"MY DEAR SON ANDREW.--This letter is enclosed and sent in one to your mother, and is to be given to you when you are old enough to understand its contents. Whether I shall accomplish that for which I started to this blood-stained region or not yet remains to be seen. If not, and I should fall either in battle or a captive, you must faithfully carry out my request. Proctor has let hell loose upon the Americans and it has come back upon our own heads. I have no taste for this fighting side by side with savage Indians, and certainly Proctor is abusing his authority and position. He ruthlessly permits the savages to perform the most fiendish things imaginable, and has no respect for his word to a fallen foe.

"All Michigan was taken by his predecessor, General Brock, but he was unfortunately killed and now this unscrupulous man is over us. It makes me blush at the name Englishmen must bear through him, and disgusts me with the present service. At the battle of Frenchtown, last January, the American general, Winchester, and his men were captured. They surrendered on Proctor's word that their lives and property should be safe, but Proctor returned to Malden and left the wounded and prisoners to be scalped and burned alive by the blood-thirsty devils, our red allies, who even dragged some through the streets of Detroit for sale. Detroit people remonstrated with Proctor, but he only shrugged his shoulders.

"The same proceedings were repeated after the attack on Harrison at Fort Meigs. The battle was as good as a victory for us. Our men were on both sides of the river Maumee. Our left was repulsed with a small loss, but our right was victorious, taking prisoners nearly six hundred men. Then the same savage atrocities began. Even Tecumseh, the great chief, was more merciful than our general. With an appalling yell he rescued an American prisoner from two of his followers and then insulted Proctor to his face.

"'Why do you allow such things when I am not here?' he said.

"'Your Indians can't be controlled,' said Proctor.

"'Go, put on petticoats; you are not fit to command men,' said Tecumseh, and with that he stalked proudly away. But those who heard it agreed with the bold chief. He's a good soldier, but no general, and his cruelty and indifference to his word of honour has made the soldiers sick of such service. On account of this, and Admiral Barclay's defeat to-day, Michigan is lost to us and even Canada may be taken away from the home government. The splendid opportunities that Brock placed in our hands are of no value on account of incapable Proctor and pusillanimous Barclay. The naval battle was won before it was fought. Barclay had six vessels and Perry nine, but what of that? Englishmen have conquered before against odds. But there was Barclay, keeping under the guns of Malden, casting down the spirits of his men with the thought of certain defeat, while the American ships were out in the open inviting him to the attack. The sailors and gunners begged him to attack, and even wept in humiliation at his cowardice. Tecumseh, with several thousand Indians, were on an island waiting to witness the encounter. Tecumseh rowed over and sought Proctor.

"'You said you were master of the waters. Why don't you go out and fight? The Americans are daring you to come out and fight.'

"The result of that battle is known, or will be known soon. Oh, for men like Nelson, and Marlborough, and Wellington!

"But to the point of my request. My father has a dishonourable stain on his name, though unworthy of it, I believe. I have travelled among the Shawnese, our allies, who were father's foes at Braddock's defeat. I was sent by Brock as an agent to the Ohio, and witnessed their dances and the Prophet's agitation a year ago. Ah, they were blood-curdling scenes. While there I talked with an old Shawnee about King Shingas and Captain Jacobs, father's captors. He said he was a sub-chief under Shingas and was in the ambush at the defeat, and from what I could glean from his description, father was among the batch of prisoners consigned to his charge. He knew not what I had in mind at first. He was so old that his hair had turned white or grey, an unusual thing among the Indians. He spoke to me of the greatness of Shingas and the suffering of the prisoners until I felt like shooting him on the spot, the hoary old sinner. All were not burned, for after running the gauntlet one escaped, snatching a club from an Indian in his flight. The Shawnee called him the Long Red Wolf, at least such is the meaning of the Shawnee name in English. From the red hair, length of limb, and swiftness of foot, it must have been my father, who was accounted the swiftest foot in old Cornwall when young.

"Now hark ye, son Andrew, among the papers of your grandfather, found on his person, was one overlooked by the King's officers. It was a rude map of the Kittanning region and the rough vale of the Lycamahoning. I send a copy with the same directions in Shawnese and English. The vale leads down from the Allegheny Mountains, and the river empties into the Ohio some distance above the old Indian town of Kittanning, as you can readily see from the accompanying sketch. I have learned from long association with the Indians that this region is rich in silver and lead, possibly gold. At least there are legends to that effect. The ability of the natives to obtain lead for their weapons and their silver ornaments testify to an eldorado somewhere in the region. Now father was much interested in mining and metals, as what Cornishman is not. I asked the old warrior of Shingas concerning the Indian legend of this eldorado and quoted the old directions in Shawnese, for I speak their language: 'On one side a plain, on the other a steep that a smart Indian can climb.' He gazed at my red hair and became silently suspicious. A bullet that passed through my hat on my way back to Malden told me my knowledge had made me a mark of vengeance.

"This is all I know. Connect this Indian eldorado with the map found on father's body; explain how the French commission as captain was filled in with his own name, and how he happened to be in French uniform, and the problem is solved. If these could be explained I believe our family could raise its head once more among the loyal families of the delectable duchy,--Cornwall. I'll find this Indian eldorado and your grandfather's exoneration at the same time. They are both connected, I believe. If I fail you must take up the cause."

"Your affectionate father, "THOMAS TREMBATH, "_Major---- 6th Royal Infantry._

"FORT MALDEN, Canada."

"That's what we were studying about the other day," said Dick, as Ande ceased reading. "De 'ee remember, Ande, about Proctor and Tecumseh?"

"Aye," said Ande, musingly.

"Are you going to take up the search?"

"Some time,--when, I don't know. What do you advise?"

"I should say after you get through with the sixth," said Dick promptly; "but, Ande, you haven't told me of Sir James Lanyan and Master Richard and----"

Ande gave a gesture of impatience and his countenance clouded over with anger.

"Dick," he said passionately, "parson says it's wrong, but I hate that family and I can never forgive them the wrong they did me and mine. When the time comes I will be terribly revenged upon them for the cruel slander and injustice that they, for the sake of capital, brought upon us."

Dick was silenced; he had never seen the pleasant face of his friend become so angry. A look like that of a demon had passed over his features at the very mentioning of Lanyan's name.

"Hist!" said Ande, and his countenance resumed its old expression.

Both youths listened, in their sequestered position.

"Remember, Penner, to 'ave the men 'ere within a half an 'our. See that each is well armed with pistols and cutlass. The cutter 'as been notified and is a-beating down the coast, and the paths be all guarded. This time we'll catch the hold Prussian fox or my name beant Penhall."

Gazing out cautiously, the youths saw, on the beach below, two men in seaman's garb.

"That's Captain Penhall of the coastguard, and his lieutenant, and they mean to surprise the King of Prussia Cove. We must give our old friend warning, Dick, lad."

"Les up and away."

"Hold on. Didn't 'ee hear the paths are all guarded."

"That's so," said Dick rubbing his head, doubtfully.

"Come, I have a plan at last," said Ande after a moment's thought, and he led the way cautiously at first and then rapidly inland. For a mile or more they kept up a smart pace, Dick following with some difficulty.

After a wide detour inland, they rapidly approached Prussia Cove. His plan was nothing less than to enter the cove by the perilous path from which he had fallen in the hurling game between Breage and the school. It was now twilight, and darkness was rapidly setting in.

"Halt!" said a quick, sharp voice ahead.

"On," whispered Ande, "there's only two of them. I'll take the right, and you take the left."

Dick grappled with his man and there was a moment of struggle. But the sudden impetus of Dick's rush decided the battle, for the coastguard tripped and, aided by his antagonist's bulk, fell. Ande was more fortunate, not suffering the other to lay hands on him. With a blow of his fist and a quick Cornish side kick he toppled him over.

"On!" shouted Ande and down the narrow pathway they rushed at breakneck speed. There was now no concealment. Shots flew after the two and Ande felt a sharp, quick pain in the left arm, but he gave it no attention. In a moment or two they emerged on the sands below, and their arrival was none too soon. The smugglers had already secreted half the cargo.

"The coastguard! They're coming!" shouted Ande as he rushed among the crowd.

Down the path was heard the approach of charging feet. From other paths the same ominous sounds were heard, all converging on the cove, and soon the head of the cove was dotted with black figures of guardsmen.

Now did Captain Carter show his courage. His men grasped desperately their pikes and cutlasses, and not even awaiting the attack of the guard, charged at the command of their king. Then followed a sanguinary battle. Shots, oaths, dull resounding blows, and groans made the silent cove a veritable pandemonium. In the midst of it a sail was seen gradually nearing the harbour entrance. The quick eye of Carter saw it. Flourishing his cutlass on high he roared:

"To the lugger, men, the hawk's at the entrance!"

The two youths, not knowing where to go, clambered on board, followed speedily by the captain and his men. The struggle continued to the very lugger's bulwarks, for the attacking guard were more numerous than their foes and felt loathe to leave them go. The appearance of the revenue cutter near the entrance also gave them renewed courage. They strove to follow after the captain and his men. A select guard of the smugglers was speedily appointed by the captain to repel boarders, and these did their work well, wielding boathooks and cutlasses with telling effect. In the meantime sweeps were gotten ready by the others and the lugger was under headway, slowly leaving the frenzied guardsmen of the government on shore.

A gun sounded from the entrance and a ball tore through the limp mainsail.

"Between two fires," muttered the captain with a smothered oath, and it was true, for the revenue cutter had stationed herself midway in the narrow entrance.

"Pull, my hearties, pull," shouted the captain, "we'll run 'er down, for we be heavier!"

The lusty fellows at the sweeps did pull, and with a will. The cutter's captain, seeing the intention of the smugglers, tried to frustrate it, and partly succeeded, but--crash!--the next instant the lugger's heavy prow ran athwart the cutter's bow.

"She's done for," gleefully said the smuggler captain, as the next moment the lugger glided into the bay. But Carter was mistaken, for the cutter though badly damaged, was not disabled. The blow was above the water-line and pursuit was kept up out into the channel. There was a light breeze blowing, the sails were set, and the sweeps were taken in. The cutter was steadily gaining.

"Can she catch us?" asked Ande of the smuggler captain.

"No," said the captain, pleasantly, "I think not. We are obliged to 'ee, lads, for your timely warning."

Ande wondered at his good humour and at his denial that there was any danger of being overtaken, when it was plain that the cutter was gaining. Evidently the captain had some plan, he thought; and he had.

"Port your helm!" shouted the skipper, and then at another command, more sheets were spread to the wind as if by magic, and away went the lugger staggering under a cloud of canvas, like a winged bird of the sea.

"Jack," said the captain to our old acquaintance of the cliff battle, "Jack, do 'ee think 'ee could wing that chap?"

"I'll try," said Jack, and away he rushed to the stern where a long brass cannon called "Long Tom" was stationed. The gunner sighted for an instant, then changed the sights and sighted again; then as if satisfied, he quickly applied the lighted linstock. There was a flash and a roar and the ball sped on its mission.

"A good shot, Master Jack, you've brought down 'er mainmast," said the skipper, who was examining the effects with a night glass.

He had hardly spoken when there was a puff of smoke from the cutter, then crash! the sound of rending plank, and a ball passed straight through the lugger at the water line. The next instant there was another puff of smoke and another ball crashed through close to the second. The cutter was avenged.

Captain Carter, with a pale set face, hastened below to ascertain the injuries, but returned in a moment. The lugger was rapidly filling and settling.

"Jack and I will give them a shot to pay for that while the rest of ye get ready the long boat," said the captain, sternly. But it was a fatal delay, for scarcely had Long Tom been sighted e'er in a mad swirl of waters the lugger plunged to her watery grave--down, down, down, dragging, in her deadly, downgoing eddy, captain and crew. Ande had the sound of many waters in his ears, and kicked desperately to free himself of its deadly influence. Then, after an interminable time, to his joy he felt himself going upward, upward and upward. His lungs felt like bursting under the terrible strain. Could he hold out until he reached the surface? He made another desperate downward kick and joy,--his head shot above the surface--but--nothing visible but the dark, tossing waters and the pale stars o'erhead. Stay! There was a dark mass but a yard or so away and a form. He drifted nearer. He shouted and a hand grasped him and drew him up on a floating piece of deck timber.

"Dick."

"Ande."

Two simultaneous shouts, but that was all, as these two friends of school day life floated together on the loosened spar.

Then after a time:

"Didst see the captain or any of the crew?"

"All drowned, no doubt," said Dick.

Then there was more silence. Dick was a famous swimmer, but clung to the spar reserving his strength for the future; Ande was less expert in the swimming art and his wound and exposure was gradually weakening his grasp. It was now past midnight.

"Dick, do'ee think the cutter will pick us up?"

"Hardly; you see, she can't do much with her mainmast gone, and then the tide is ebbing."

Hours passed and the sickening sense of weakness became stronger and stronger, and that weary, pallid expression, the presage of unconsciousness, swept o'er Ande's countenance and remained there. It was Dick who realised it first, and he flung his own great arms o'er those of Ande, binding him to the spar with his own strength.

"Hold on. Don't give in."

"Dick, I was shot in the arm coming down the cliff, and I think that's what's making me weak."

"Weather it out until daylight and we shall be picked up. Some one is bound to see us."

"Dick, do 'ee think we did right in warning the smugglers?" asked Ande, weakly.

"Aye," said Dick, stoutly; "they were honest men trying to earn a living."

"Because,--you see--you'll get through all right, but I--I'm getting weaker every minute, and I can't hold out much longer--and a fellow thinks of these things when he hasn't long to live."

"Nonsense, we'll both pull through all right. Pluck up courage." Then as he noticed a piece of rope attached to the spar, "I do believe I'm still a dull'ead. Here we 'ave been floating in danger of falling off through weakness every moment and there is the means of our salvation."

He plucked out a knife from his pocket and severed the rope at the end from the spar and passing it around Ande and himself securely lashed themselves to the float.

"There, if we can't hold out much longer, we'll at least be on top of the water as long as this spar floats."

There was silence for another half an hour and then Ande said wearily.

"Dick, if you get back to land--and I don't,--you--remember me to mother and tell her I--died a Christian."

"Aye, aye, old fellow, but cheer up!" But the tears in his own eyes indicated that he needed his own advice.

"We must trust in God, Dick."

"Aye," said the other, as he reached over and shook hands earnestly.

"And Dick, remember me to her."

"Aye," said Dick once more. He knew for quite a time Ande's interest in the squire's daughter, and that "her" could mean no one else.

On they drifted, now on a swelling surge, then in a dark valley of water. Dawning light appeared in the east, but no land was visible.

"Cheer up," said Dick, "day is coming," but there was no answer. Grim unconsciousness had come at last. Dick, for another hour, battled with the terrible faintness, then the sea seemed to fade from his vision and--the sun arose beaming brilliantly on the world of tossing waters. Nothing was visible but the circling gulls and a stick of timber, and two unconscious, half-drowned lads.