The Argosy — page 70: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

The Black Buoy. 59 “There was only one channel leading into the harbour, for the mouth of our little river was choked with sand, and the banks extended out to sea. It was necessary to hit this channel some distance out at sea, and a small black buoy bobbed up and down to indicate its commencement. One side of the harbour was formed by a line of rocks shelving down gradually into the water, and the buoy was distant from the extremity of these rocks about three-quarters of a mile, or a little more. This headland was called the Point. “The black buoy, a mere speck on the waters, was hard enough for anyone to find in the broad day, but my grandfather never failed to find it in the dark—for, of course, it was only on a moonless night that the smugglers dared to run a cargo. The usual course of pro- ceeding was this: the lugger arrived off our coast at nightfall, lay-to until a signal was flashed from our friends on shore, flashed a reply, found the entrance to the channel, and worked in with the tide. “‘] had a very independent kind of life, getting a good deal of book-learning from the old vicar, and passing many hours in the bright sunshine and the free fresh air. I could run a couple of miles, and pull an oar, and swim with the best. The sea had no terrors or difficulties for me, except such as it was a pleasure to over- come. So at sixteen I was a fresh-coloured, free-limbed, and I believe, bright-eyed young maiden, whose only trouble was her long tresses of thick brown hair, and who thought very little of the outside world. “On a certain day in September, my grandfather being absent and expected back at night, I set off for a long ramble in the country, taking some sandwiches with me for dinner. At nightfall I was returning tired and hungry, when I paused on the cliffs for a moment to take a last look around before striking into the path that led to the village. Wiha sigh of contented fatigue, I turned homewards, when I recollected that a little suit of blue serge, which I used for bathing, required some trifling repairs. I kept it in a little cave not far from the gully up which our contraband goods used to be con- veyed ; so without approaching the village, I hastened to the cave by the shortest route. I passed down the gully, slipped into the cave, and felt about for my dress. Having found it, I was just about to come out again, when a strange sound broke the stillness of the night, and I stopped short. Apparently coming from the gully I heard the tramp of feet and the noise of voices, and a queer, little thin sound, but curiously distinct—the clink of steel. ‘IT peered out cautiously. Two men emerged from the gully. They had long cloaks on, but, by the clank of their arms and the manner of their bearing, I knew them to be soldiers. They were talking in low voices; but I could hear what they said, for the night was very still. “*This is the place, sir,’ said one, who seemed to be the elder. ‘The goods are landed here, and carried up this gully. The carts stand at the head of the gully, where we came down.’ Gomilchboo s) (E(@) mM