Smuggler's Kiss (18 page)

The men holding the rope strained to hold him, to help him hang on to the ledge. Then the landers ran forward and grasped him, hauling him back from the precipice and to safety. I was trembling with shock. The strength of my feelings caught me by surprise. I’d grown to care for this gentle, lumbering smuggler. How had that come about?

No one else wished to volunteer. I couldn’t find it in me to blame them. Who in their right mind would risk that dreadful leap, and a night creeping through damp undergrowth, when they could be heading for a snug berth in Poole and a Christmas at home with their families?

Will, at least I thought it was Will, was standing onshore holding up his index finger and then performing a pleading gesture, hands together.

‘One more,’ the skipper told us. The men shook their heads. I was wondering what he would do if they all refused. Then his eye fell on me. ‘Isabelle!’ he said. ‘You can go.’

‘Me?’ I gasped. Panic tore through me. ‘No!’

‘You’re strong enough to lead a pony,’ the skipper said. ‘The tubs don’t need carrying. And you have no home to go to for Christmas. You can spare one of the men from missing out on seeing their families.’

My protests went unheeded. I was pulled to the rail and the soaking rope was passed around me.

‘Please,’ I begged. I didn’t mind helping to lead the ponies. If that had been all, I’d have been happy to go. It was that jump.

But before I could say more I was being helped over the rail, held fast by strong hands. I trembled as I stood there on the brink, sure I was going to die. I no longer even had a voice to plead. I would be crushed like the barrel. I knew it.

A rope was passed through my harness and thrown ashore. I could see Will had caught it and was holding it fast. His eyes were fixed intently on me, a frown on his face. Jacob stood at his side looking anxiously up at me. The ship dipped. As it rose again to its peak and began to drop, the men holding me shouted: ‘Jump!’

I bent my trembling legs and half leapt and was half thrown out into the abyss.

I must have closed my eyes as I plummeted. I certainly stopped breathing. For a moment everything fell silent. It was almost as if the sea ceased to churn and the wind dropped to nothing. With a jolt that knocked the breath from my body, I landed heavily. I felt pain from the impact shoot up my ankle, but I also felt strong arms around me, supporting me before I fell. For a moment, I didn’t dare look, so certain had I been that I would fall into the gap and be squashed. When I opened my eyes, both Will and Jacob were holding me, and I gasped out loud with relief. I’d made it.

Jacob put his arm around me and supported me away from the edge. I leaned heavily on his arm, still trembling. ‘I thought I was going to die,’ I said with a slight sob in my voice.

‘Nay, we caught you right and tight. It’s almost easier to catch a slight lass like you than a grown man. But what were you doing volunteering for such danger?’

‘I didn’t!’ I said indignantly. ‘The skipper ordered it.’

‘That wasn’t right,’ said Jacob, shaking his head.

‘I’m here now. The worst bit is surely over?’ I asked hopefully. I walked a few steps along the slimy pitted ledge and winced a little at the pain in my ankle.

‘Injured yourself?’ asked Will, joining us. ‘You’ll be in the way rather than a help, as usual.’

I sent him a hurt look, but he was preoccupied with watching the ship. Behind me,
The Invisible
was casting off. I turned to watch too. She swung slowly away from the berth, dipping and bucking in the big sea, and headed away from the ledge. I was relieved to see her clear this treacherous coast.

Once she was safely heading out to sea, the men all turned, began to sling the last of the kegs over their shoulders and carry them to the back of the deep ledge. Some had already been hauled up by rope to the shelf above.

There was a path up, or something that resembled a rocky stairway, to the right. Will sent me up there while he helped rope the rest of the barrels.

The second ledge was deeper than the lower one, and much smoother. It went right back into the cliffs, where I could see dark, gaping holes in the sheer faces. It looked like a working quarry, with blocks of stone stacked up in piles. I looked up the cliff and realized the next climb up was going to be much steeper and longer than the last; especially difficult with a painful ankle.

The barrels were hauled up the second cliff too, but we climbed up a narrow, uneven track on the left of the ledge. I found myself glad of the time I’d spent in the rigging, learning never to look down.

At the top of the climb, a path ran along the cliff tops in either direction. I stopped to catch my breath, peering into the darkness.

‘This is where the customs men patrol,’ Will told me as we reached it. ‘This is one of the few places we can land a cargo on this stretch of coast.’

‘How do you know they aren’t watching now?’ I asked.

‘Because there is a look-out on the spyway above us,’ said Will with a grin. ‘Wait till we get up there; you can see for miles in either direction. We’re quite safe for now. Can you walk all right?’

‘Of course,’ I said at once, determined not to slow the train down. The pain was already lessening as I moved about.

The ponies were waiting beyond a cliff path. Many were already carrying kegs, and the rest were being loaded up now. I was given a pony by a large figure in a dark coat. ‘Bless me, it’s just a lad,’ he said to himself in a hoarse whisper, as he handed me the leading rein.

Before we set out, I was assigned a second pony to lead. Several had three to manage. I saw many of the men had their faces blacked so as not to stand out in the darkness. All wore dark clothes. I realized I must stand out with my pale face, and resolved to keep it hidden if we were pursued.

All the organization was done in near silence, voices low and cautious, the loading and manoeuvring smooth and practised. Only a few minutes later, the train turned and set off across the short springy turf. We climbed straight up the steep hill ahead of us. The grass was nibbled short by sheep and covered in droppings. Its very smoothness made it difficult to climb, and I was glad of the ridges in the turf that I imagined had formed through land slippage and of the occasional big tufts of rougher grass too.

The two ponies followed me willingly enough, climbing the sheer hill with short, jerky steps, their shaggy heads bobbing up and down with the strain of bearing the casks on their backs. They were soon puffing harder than I, and straining to keep climbing as the slope grew ever steeper. I noticed their harness neither creaked nor jingled. I stared at it in the dark, and from what I could see, it had no metal in it at all. Had it been made especially for smuggling?

Suddenly, with a last, exhausted scramble, we had reached the top, and the fields sloped only gently upwards from here. Drystone walls that ran in long straight lines along the contours of the hills, divided the slopes into fields. I was relieved to be putting less strain on my aching ankle.

There was a brief pause while a gate was opened ahead of us. Behind me, I heard Will whisper: ‘Isabelle!’

I turned, and understood at once what he wanted me to see. The view was magnificent. The hills sloped steeply away behind us to the cliffs and by the light of the moon I could see for miles in both directions. The moonlight gleamed on the vast expanse of the sea too, as it stretched out into the distance. I could still make out
The Invisible
, sailing away towards Poole.

Neither of us needed to say anything. We just stared, and then the train was moving on again, the only sounds the soft thud of hooves in the turf and the occasional snort of a tired pony.

We crossed two fields, paused at a barn to unload a couple of kegs and leave a pony behind, and then crossed two fields more before we reached a village, lying dark and quiet in the moonlight. No smoke rose from any of the chimneys and no light shone from any of the windows. We led the ponies straight through the sleeping village to its stone church. Here more kegs were unloaded and left in the porch, and we moved on, leaving one or two kegs at the inn and other houses.

I was afraid the clattering of hooves on the stony road might wake the sleeping villagers, but when I whispered my fears to Will he laughed softly in the darkness. ‘Only women and children are sleeping tonight,’ he whispered back. ‘And they know not to look. Their men are all here with us.’

Our long line drew clear of the village into silent fields. It was a breathless, silent trek through the darkness, all of us aware of every sound around us. Even my ponies sensed the tension; their ears were pricked forward eagerly as we made our way into the denser darkness of a small wood, their hooves silent on the thick bed of leaves and moss.

It was as we emerged from the wood that we heard hoof beats ahead. The line broke up around me and melted back into the trees. With difficulty, I turned my ponies and followed them. Every man had concealed himself and his beasts as best he could behind trees and bushes or in small hollows. I withdrew quietly, but wasn’t experienced at this work, and was relieved when Will came to one pony’s head and helped me lead it quietly out of sight.

The hoof beats outside the wood had come closer and resolved into the clop of several pairs of hooves on the nearby road.

‘Preventives?’ I whispered in Will’s ear.

‘Maybe,’ he breathed back into mine, his breath warm on my cheek. ‘Who else would be out in the dead of night?’

We stood quietly side-by-side, listening intently. The horses stopped, and Will left me, creeping forward through the trees until he was lost to sight.

When he reappeared he was moving with urgency. ‘They’ve picked up our trail,’ he whispered to a huddle of men who gathered around him. I pressed close to overhear. ‘We need to draw them off. Who will risk riding with me? It must be men who ride light.’

‘I will,’ said a slim lad I didn’t know. Will nodded.

‘Thank you, Tom,’ he said and then looked around for another rider.

‘I will,’ I heard my own voice whisper. It was a surprise even to me. Why was I volunteering? Because my ankle would be far less painful on horseback, I told myself firmly. I stifled the small voice that told me I wanted to be with Will.

Will looked taken aback and not best pleased. ‘Can you ride bareback and astride?’ he asked.

‘Of course,’ I lied at once.

Will shrugged and then nodded his permission. ‘You’ll ride light at least,’ he said reluctantly. ‘But this will be dangerous work.’

I nodded, hoping I looked braver than I felt.

‘We three then,’ said Will after another hesitation. ‘Shed the ponies’ loads.’

The larger of my two ponies was swiftly relieved of his burden, and someone lifted me onto his warm back. I was glad of the darkness that hid my embarrassment at such an indecent thing as a lady astride a pony.

Men were burying the extra kegs in the leaves at the foot of an oak tree. No doubt they would be back to collect them once it was safe. ‘We ride to the edge of the forest,’ Will whispered hurriedly, coming to stand beside my mount. ‘Until they catch sight of us. Enough to make sure they follow, but not close enough to see we carry no contraband. Then we make off as fast as we can. Stick close to me and Tom. We ride round in a big sweep. As long as we reach the bridge below ahead of them, we’ll be safe enough.’

I nodded, tense with the fear of what lay ahead. I was not a neck-or-nothing rider like my sister. But my ankle was far more comfortable now I was mounted. I would take this night as it came; my luck had held until now.

I urged my pony after Will, who was vaulting onto his own mount. He led us straight towards the king’s men. They were silent, clearly waiting for some sign from us to trigger their pursuit. My pony jogged along, seeming surprised by this new turn of events. At the edge of the forest, we rode in a silent line, one after the other, weaving in and out of the trees at the edge of the wood.

The moon was obscured by cloud and there was no sign yet that we’d been seen. I was just wondering what Will was going to do about that when his horse snorted loudly.

In moments, there was a shout from the Revenue men. Will urged his pony forward into a brisk trot and wove back into the trees. The jingle of the harness and the clop of the hooves on the road sounded in pursuit. Someone shouted at us to stop. Will’s pony broke into a canter; Tom and I followed.

Cantering in the dark through woods is nasty work. I knew I should work with my pony, help him look out for dangers and keep firm contact with his mouth at all times. But with branches whipping in my face and tree trunks leaping out of the darkness at me, the best I could manage was to bury my hands in his mane, lean low over his neck and cling on for dear life. It was lucky that my pony wished to stay close to the other two, for I closed my eyes a lot of the time and it was little enough guidance he got from me.

We were soon out of the trees; Purbeck is mostly an open, windswept landscape. The three of us galloped flat out across the hillsides, pausing only to open gates which we swung shut again behind us. Once we jumped a broken-down section of stone wall and I was almost unseated.

When the pursuit drew too far behind, Will slowed. When they drew too close, he pushed the ponies faster. At last, both the other ponies leapt a larger wall onto open hillside. They made it look so easy. I sent mine after them. He stopped dead at the wall and I shot forward onto his neck. Then he jumped, and I lost my grip and took a tumble. I rolled onto turf but banged my shoulder on the stones of the wall in the darkness. The fall had knocked the wind out of me, and I lay gasping and shaken, not sure what was up or down.

Will leant over the wall, still mounted on his pony. ‘Are you hurt?’ he asked urgently. I could breathe again at last and struggled to my feet, dazed.

‘Not much,’ I said breathlessly.

‘We can’t linger,’ he said, reaching down a hand. I grasped it and he pulled me up. Tom led my pony up to me and I slid onto his back from the wall. As I did so, I could hear the customs men thundering across the field behind us, and felt panic rising. They had drawn far too close. If we were caught through my incompetence, I’d never forgive myself.