Chapter 4

After weeks of close watching and waiting, information was passed along the coast that a landing would take place close to the spot where Turnbull now lived with his wife and children. Men from all the stations extending over a radius of fifty miles were summoned to meet at a certain point at eleven o'clock on a certain night. Trusted civilians had been drafted into the service for the occasion; and so accurate was the information given, that within a couple of hours of the time several boat-loads of contraband were landed above high-water mark. Three carts came along, and while the process of transhipping into them was going on, the "Preventer" men, led by Turnbull, quietly came from their concealment, and with a sudden rush surrounded the smugglers. Those of their accomplices who had smelt the scent of battle fled behind the hills, and got clean away. One of the carts attempted to bolt, but a shower of shot targeted into the horses peremptorily stopped that move, and the drivers were easily captured. The smugglers fought like polecats, but received no help from the few accomplices who had not escaped. These, either from fear or policy, or both, did not attempt to extricate themselves or lend their support to a lost cause. It was common knowledge that smugglers drew lots as to who had to escape if severe fighting or capture became inevitable, and the battle became the more fierce in order to cover the escape of those few. They did not all succeed in getting off in their boat, but it was estimated half a dozen might have done so. The rest, something like a score, were ultimately overpowered, sent to prison and tried in the good old style, and sentenced to transportation to the criminal dumping-ground of Western Australia.

The notorious Jimmy Stone on that memorable moaning night was disguised, but that did not prevent him being detected while rendering assistance to land and convey the contraband on to the beach and into the carts. One of the Government men was indiscreet enough to shout "James Stone, you are my prisoner!" and almost before the words were out of his mouth Jimmy dropped a keg of gin on to him and fled. The companions of the stunned man were too busy with the other cut-throats to follow Jimmy, or to see in what direction he had gone. It was only after the conflict was over that they were reminded that this lawless fisherman had escaped, and must at all costs be captured and brought to justice. A party was selected to search for him. They knew that he must be hiding in some of the hollows where the thick clusters of bents and bracken would give him cover. Some of the party had strayed from the central group, and were talking of Jimmy's prowess and astuteness, and wondering where he was concealed, when they suddenly came across a man with his head and part of his body up a rabbit-hole. He was asking in subdued tones, "Are the ---- gyen yet?" and one of the party, in the same tone of voice and the same dialect and language as he had used, cautioned him not to speak too loud, as they were still hovering about.

"My God!" said he, "when aa get oot o' this mess aa'll hae ma revenge on that Ranter." And becoming impatient, he began to curse at his supposed friend for advising him to put his head in a rabbit-hole, vigorously announcing that he wished his ---- head was there instead of his own. "Aa cud hae run if ye hadn't persuaded me t' hide heor."

"Hae patience!" responded the voice from without.

"Patience be d----!" said he; "Aa wish aa had them ---- Government men heor. Aa wad make short work o' them, the ---- rascals!"

"Whisht," said his companion; "they're comin' this way!"

In a few seconds Jimmy's posterior became the subject of some vigorous thrashing. He was dragged, yelling, from his retreat, and confronted with the men he had so recently sworn to murder. They asked if he was Jimmy Stone. He replied in the affirmative, and added--

"Aa thowt it was Jack Dent aa was taakin' tee. He cum heor wiv us."

"Where is he now?" inquired the officer.

"Hoo am aa t' knaa?" said Jimmy; "but the Lord help him when aa dee cum across him. He's betrayed me. Nivvor more will aa put me heed in a rabbit-hole!"

His soliloquy was cut short by his captors putting his hands in irons and conveying him to where their colleagues were; and Jimmy would have been included amongst the convicts but for the magnanimous intercession of Turnbull, who informed his captors that they were to leave Jimmy to him. He was working out a scheme whereby his knowledge would be invaluable to the Service. So James was not sent to the Colonies.

A well-known farmer, who was accustomed to make friendly calls on the Turnbull family, was caught in the act of bolting with a cartload of unlawful merchandise. He was sent to Australia, but not as a convict. Turnbull had found some useful purpose for him also, and he was advised to get out of the country, lest it became too hot for him.

A couple of ladies had attracted special attention; not that they were bellicose, but because in consequence of their abnormal bulk they created some suspicion that they had concealed beneath their crinolines more than their ordinary form. They were asked unchivalrously to undo their clothing, and with comic dignity and superb self-possession they defiantly declined. They were then told in the name of the Queen that if they did not undress voluntarily it would have to be done for them, whereupon they adopted the old dodge of weeping and calling themselves unprotected women, whose characters were being assailed by men whom it was not safe for females to be amongst, making the sandy hollows resound with their artificial shrieks and sobs; but it was all to no purpose. Their skirts were examined, and there were found boxes of cigars, packets of tobacco, and bottles of gin, all hooked in methodical order to an ingenious arrangement connected with the skirt. These ladies were proved to be on familiar terms with the red-capped gentlemen who were defrauding the Revenue, and not infrequently shooting down its guardians.

One of these women was the sister of Jimmy Stone, and the other his wife, and it would have gone hard with them had Turnbull not conceived the humane idea of reclaiming and ultimately drafting them into the Service. He convinced his colleagues that they would be invaluable adjutants. They would take a deal of taming, as there was little to distinguish them from a species of wild animal. He requested that they should be handed over to him for the purpose of trying the experiment. The women and Jimmy were locked up in separate rooms in the Old Tower for a week. Turnbull visited them daily, and detected on each visit the growth of penitence; his little talks had penetrated their stony, vicious natures, until at last they broke down and humbly solicited pardon and release, which was granted under well-defined conditions. There was much talk in the village about the leniency extended to the fishers. Tom Hitchings, the cartman, declared that they should have been sent to the Colonies, the same as the other smugglers; and Ted Robson said transportation was too good a punishment, they ought to have been shot or bayonetted, and had any other person but a ranter preacher been in charge it would have been done.

"How de we knaa, Tom," said Ted, "that them fiends o' smugglers winnot rise oot o' theor beds in the deed hoor o' the neet and break into wor homes and cut wor throats afore we're awake? We helped te catch them, whaat for shouldn't we hev some say aboot theor punishment?"

"That's whaat aa says," replied Tom. "But ye'll heor o' some queer things happenin' varry syen. He'll be hevvin' his meetin's in Jenny's hoose, and Jimmy'll be preachin' afore lang. Ther'll be fine scenes if it's not throttled i' the bud."

"Get away, man," said Ned; "they're the biggest blackguards roond the countryside, and they'll steal, rob, or morder, whichivver comes handiest. What d'ye think that fellow Jimmy did once? A ship was in the offin'. She had distress signals flyin'. He could get neebody te man a boat but women; the men wadn't hev onythin' te dee wiv him, so his awn wife, Ailsie's Jenny, Nanny Dent, and Peggy Story went. They pulled the boat through monster seas, and the brute was cursin' at the women aal the way until they gat alangside, when the captain said, 'Ma ship's sinkin'.' The crew were telled to jump into the boat smart, and as syen as the captain said, 'We're aal heor,' Jimmy sprang aboard like a cat, cast the boat adrift, shooted to his wife, 'She's mine! Pull the ---- ashore, and then come off and we'll take her in!' The captain saa the trick and demanded to be taken back, but Jenny felled him with the tiller, and threatened to slay onny of the others. They were nearly ashore when the captain exclaimed, 'She's not his; Sancho, the dog, has been left behind!' The crew were landed, and the boat went back to the ship. The women gat aboard, and asked Jimmy if he had seen a dog. He said, 'There's nee dog heor; the ship's wors,' and they say he fand the dog on the floor and that he put it ower-board. Now, there's a born convict for ye! An' they tell me, him and his women gat the ship safely into port, and the folk shooted, 'Bravo, Jimmy Stone!' They said he was a hard swearer, but a brave, clever fellow, and aa said when aa hard it, 'Whaat aboot the dog?' The ship was selled, and Jimmy gat summit--whaat de they caal it--salvage, aa think. They say he's worth lots o' money."

"But whaat did they say aboot the dog?" said Tom.

"Wey, the captain said the dog was left as a safeguard against bein' boarded and claimed as a derelict; but Jimmy swore that the dog wasn't there when he gat aboard, and neebody saa what becam' on't, and so the matter rests. They often say te him, 'Whe tossed the dog ower board?' and aa believe he's nearly mordered half a dozen big men for sayin' sic things."

"Eh, man," said Tom pensively, "what a grand Christian gentleman he'll make!"

Shortly after Jimmy's release from the Old Tower, his youngest child succumbed to the ravages of a malignant fever. He and his wife were distracted, as, in spite of their pagan instincts and habits, their devotion to their offspring was a passion. They remembered Mr. Turnbull appealing to them to flee from the wrath to come by amending their ways, lest something terrible befell themselves or their children, and instead of the recollection of this warning kindling strong demonstrations of resentment against the lay preacher now, Jenny implored her husband to run over the moor and get Mr. Turnbull to come and administer comfort to them.

"He'll give us the sacrament, and pray for us at the bedside were the deed bairn lies."

Jimmy was dazed at the suggestion. He could not quite bring himself to give up the idea of some day renewing his former habits of aiding the smugglers, and of doing a bit of poaching. He was quite frank in stating to his wife that he feared if Turnbull came and prayed with them he would get him to join the chapel folk, and there would be no more poaching or smuggling after that.

"And see what a loss it wad be tiv us. But," said he, "to tell the truth, aa hev been for prayin' mesel ever since the bairn tuck bad, but then aa thowt it was cowardly to ask help when aa was in difficulties and nivvor at ony other time. So I didn't dee 't."

Jenny interjected that at the risk of being led to join the Methodists, and throwing over all thought of joining in any more lawlessness, he must go to the village and ask Mr. Turnbull to come.

"I feel somethin' forcin' me to this, Jimmy; so get away and be quick back."

And as James felt the same throbbing impulse, off he went, and within an hour presented his petition to Mr. Turnbull, who received him in his usual kind way, which caused the redoubtable ruffian to melt into tears, and volubly to confess all his murderous intentions towards the man he now believed to be the only agency on earth that could give him comfort.

The two men started at once for the bereaved home. The first part of the journey was tramped in solemn meditation. At last Jimmy broke silence by asking his companion if he thought God had taken his child from him as a punishment for his sins. Turnbull said--

"Well, James, I believe your heavenly Father has some work for you to do. He has often warned you of the wrath to come by confronting you with danger at sea; and only a short time since you were caught in the act of committing a crime, and narrowly escaped being banished to a penal settlement, and He mercifully used a friend as an instrument to save you from this degradation. But you still maintained the spirit of defiance, and were a law unto yourself. The Almighty saw that drastic measures would have to be taken to break down your wilful opposition. Your child was stricken with illness, and still you went on cursing God and man; and then in His wondrous compassion for you and hundreds of other men and women to whom I believe He has planned you shall carry the message of peace, He has taken your child in order that you may be saved. He knew that was the only way of bringing you to see the great plan of salvation, and to save your innocent little girl from growing up in a heathenish home, where there was no beauty, no kindness, no good example, no God. I beseech you to surrender yourself at once. Remember, the Spirit will not always strive with you, and if you chase it away now it may never return."

That night, kneeling by the side of his dead child, Jimmy implored God to be merciful to him, and professed to have experienced the great transition from death unto life. Now, Jimmy, though quite uneducated, had an intellectual head and great natural gifts, and when he was careful he spoke with amazing correctness. He commenced to take part in the prayer meetings at once, and having a good memory, he picked up all the stock phrases and used them vigorously. Being an apt pupil, he soon learned to read, and then commenced one of the most extraordinary religious campaigns that has ever been witnessed in that part of Great Britain. Hundreds of men and women were led to change their lives by this rugged, uncultured, but natural preacher. A certain number of his own class viciously persecuted him for years, and none more so than his own wife. It seemed as though Hell had been let loose on him, and yet he went on undisturbed, steadfastly believing that he was the agent of the living God to carry the message of truth to the heathen. His old enemy Turnbull had become his fast friend, from whom he sought and received much help and many acts of kindness. He owed the conversion of his wife and many of his persecutors to this spiritually-minded man, and it was remarkable that nearly all the worst characters who were "brought in" opened their doors whenever he wanted to have a prayer meeting or a preaching service, and the rooms were always packed with people.

Attracted by the originality of the converted fisherman, a few young people belonging to the better families in the locality gathered together to witness what they imagined would be mere burlesque. There was only standing room behind the kitchen bed for them, and there was anything but an air of sanctity amongst that portion of his congregation. Jimmy's pulpit style was peculiar. He was flashing out eloquent phrases that were not commonly used in the orthodox pulpit. As he warmed to his work he broke out in rhyme--"Yes, brothers and sisters, there was little brother Paal, the very best of aal, laid down his life," etc. His use of biblical names was quite eccentric, which caused the undevotional members of his audience to snigger audibly. Without seeming to heed the irreverence, Jimmy pursued his impassioned diatribe and smote unbelievers hip and thigh, in language that was not conventional, or even relevant to the subject of his discourse. The sniggering had developed into suppressed laughter, and James suddenly stopped the even flow of his oratory, brought his giant fist down on the deal table and sent everything flying. Ladies' dresses were more or less damaged by candle grease; but the cooler heads prevented an outbreak of panic by getting the candles relighted and put on to the table. Then in reverent tones they asked the preacher, who stood apparently unmoved, to proceed with the service; so Jimmie gave out the verse of a hymn which he thought would be suitable to the occasion. (Methodists always did that when the lights went out or the preacher stuck.)

In the good old days, when village Methodism was quivering with spiritual life, and pouring its converts into the cities and towns of England to teach the simple gospel of the Founder of our Faith, without any artificial fringes being attached to it, they were too poor, and perhaps too conscious of the superiority of the real God-given vocal capacity, to have anything to do with what many of them believed to be artificial aids to religion. It was a fine sight to see the leader of the songsters shut his eyes, clap his hands, and with strong nasal blasts--which resembled the drone of the immortal instrument that is the terror of the English and the glory of the Scottish people--"raise the hymn," while, as the others joined in the singing, the volume of sound swelled louder and louder, until the whole congregation were entranced by the power of their own performance.

I give the words of the verse which Jimmy asked to be sung. Here they are--

"Come on, my partners in distress, My comrades through the wilderness, Who still your bodies feel; Awhile forget your griefs and fears, And look beyond this vale of tears To that celestial hill."

This was sung with appropriate vigour over and over again. It is very difficult to stop a real country Methodist when the power of song is on him, and on occasions such as this they generally break off gradually, until only one or two irrepressible enthusiasts are left singing, and these have to be brought to the consciousness of time and the propriety of things by being pulled down into their seats. Jimmy wished to proceed with his rebuke to the persons who had been the cause of the diversion, so he put a peremptory stop to the vocalists by telling them to "sit doon, and listen to God's ambassador." He then resumed his address by stating that when his fist knocked the candles off the table he was "nearly givin' way to temptation. In fact," said he, "I was just on the point of usin' profane language to the mockers and scoffers of the sarvent of the livin' God. I mean them parvarse lads and lasses aback o' the bed theor."

"Amen!" interjected several saintly voices.

"But, hallelujah!" resumed James, "aa felt God was ha'd'en me back!"

"Glory!" shouted Adam Jefferson.

"Yes, ma brethren and sistors. Aa cum amang ye t' seek and t' save sinners that repenteth; rich or poor, it makes nee difference to me nor ma Maister, for hasn't He said 'where two or three are met tegithor in Ma Name, there am I in the midst'?"

"Bless Him!" cried Nannie Dent, a late accomplice of the smugglers.

Jimmy's rebuke to the offenders was delivered with boisterous earnestness, but the comic phrasing of it created irrepressible hilarity, and they had to leave the room. The preacher, in his closing remarks, reminded his hearers that he was once a black-hearted rascal, drinking, swearing, stealing, poaching, smuggling, and but for the mercy of God he might have added to his other crimes that of murder. A shudder went through the congregation when "murder" was uttered, and their minds were obviously centred on the derelict vessel and the dog, which Jimmy was suspected of doing away with.

"Ah!" whispered Sam Taylor, the butler, "he should never have ventured on that affair. Folks are varra queer, and whether it is true or not, they like sensation and scandal."

As though he had been gifted with prescience, Jimmy continued--"Aa can feel whaat ye are thinking aboot, but it's not true. This is the man aa threatened te kill," pointing at Turnbull. "And now let us bow oor heads in solemn, silent prayor for a few minutes, and ask forgiveness for oor past and daily sins. And aa want ye to join with me in asking for pardon and speedy repentance to be sent tiv a porson that belangs te the gentry of this district, but whe hes been, and is noo engaged in trafficking in wickedness. May the Lord bring him to His footstool of mercy before he is nabbed, as aa was."

These remarks, with the exhilarating petition, caused an amount of irreverent speculation as to who was the person alluded to. The service was brought to a close without any evidences of spiritual emotion such as had characterized previous meetings, and the people proceeded in groups to their respective homes filled with fertile curiosity, and a sinister suspicion as to who the sinful person was that Jimmy had so fervently prayed for. But only one person who heard the rugged deliverance fixed her mind on him that was guilty, and she resolved to keep her thoughts a secret, for reasons that will be explained hereafter. Meanwhile, many innocent men were suspected, and gossip ran rampant. Jimmy, when asked whom he meant, was piously reticent, and merely answered--

"That is a matter that concerns God and mysel'! The time may come when he'll accuse hissel'. Aa'm prayin' mornin', noon, and night, that the strings of his heart may be broken, and that a penitent condition of mind may take possession of him, and in the fulness of a new borth he may cry aloud, 'O Lord, once I was blind, noo I see!'"

When Thomas Turnbull and his wife arrived home, they found the younger members of their family in an excited state of hilarity. The youngest daughter was mimicking Jimmy perfectly, and had her brothers and sister in fits of laughter. Their father could not refrain from joining in the fun, but the mother was quiet and pensive, and got rather huffed when her husband chided her in his good-humoured way with being indifferent to the happy surroundings. Poor woman, she was troubled about Jimmy's prayer, and thought it irreligious to be joyous in the midst of such dark mystery.

The following afternoon, Mrs. Turnbull paid a visit to Mrs. Clarkson, who listened with eager interest to the account of the meeting, and when the words of the closing prayer were conveyed an anxious look came over her countenance, and she made an effort to change the subject, without, however, preventing Mrs. Turnbull from detecting her confusion.

"Let us talk of something else; I do not like," said she, "conversing about sensational things; it makes me nervous. And if I were you, I would try to forget what has been said to you about important personages being involved in lawless traffic. It will only make you unhappy, and serve no good purpose. If there is anything of the sort going on, it will be discovered, and those that are guilty will be brought to justice."

Mrs. Turnbull did not pursue the subject any farther, but the sad, pained look of her hostess became fixed in her memory. She could not shake the conviction from her that Mrs. Clarkson was haunted by the dread of some one belonging to herself having some connection with Jimmy's prayer.