The reason that there was more light in Smiler’s cave was because the sun was shining from a cloudless sky. But it was no friendly, warm sky. All around the sun was a pale halo of greyish-green light, and the westerly wind had moved a few points to the south and was blowing even harder than the day before. It was the kind of weather which at one glance would have made any fisherman decided that it was time to do a little net mending and stay in harbour.
The wind was blowing full gale force now and great waves were breaking over the westerly point of the island, thundering against the rocks and sending spouting cascades of water halfway up the cliffs. Driven in from the sea and circling over the eastern end of the loch were clouds of gulls, terns and other seabirds, wheeling and dipping in the wind. The cairns and rocky ledges of the Hen and Chickens were covered with the roosting birds, all squared round with their heads pointing down wind.
Billy Morgan and the Chief Mate were astir at first light. The Chief Mate made breakfast for them both and, because he was a somewhat more considerate man than his boss, he made up plates of scrap for Bacon and Midas.
After breakfast Billy Morgan and the Chief Mate made a thorough search of the island, beating through all the bushes and likely hiding places, and even examining the swaying, wind-tossed tops of the pines and ashes. They took Bacon with them on the lead, but Bacon showed no interest in their search until they reached the cliff top again. Then Bacon began to whine and bark and Billy Morgan let him off the lead. Bacon immediately ran to the point on the cliff from which Smiler had jumped into the water.
Watching him Billy Morgan said, ‘Either that tike is a damned fool or he knows something we don’t know. There’s nothing for it, Chiefy, but to give them there cliffs one more good going over.’
‘Goin’ over,’ said the Chief Mate gloomily, ‘is just what will happen if you gets too near in this wind. I reckon we leaves it for a few hours. Maybe the wind’ll drop as the sun gets higher.’
‘Blow harder more likely,’ said Billy Morgan. But since he no more relished being blown off the cliff top than the Chief Mate did, he agreed to wait for a few hours. They both went back to the castle, leaving Bacon racing up and down the cliff top in his own search for Smiler.
Two things so far neither of the men had noticed. One was the big white stain in the meadow grass where Mrs Brown had been milked. And the other was the flag of Saint Andrew which streamed in the wind at half-mast.
During the morning Smiler finished the last of his biscuits and was down to drinking the loch water. From the fierce whistling of the wind across the cliff crack and the increased agitation of the water inside the cave he knew that the weather outside must be blowing very hard, harder in fact than the day before because the wind-note from the slit above him was much higher and fiercer. The waves on the loch outside would be far too big to risk a rowing boat, he knew. Even if, Samuel M., he told himself, there was a boat to be got. It would need a stout hacksaw to cut through the chain that secured the boats.
That day passed slowly for Smiler and for the two men. The wind blew fiercely all day and was far too strong for the two men to risk a close examination of the cliffs. Just after midday Bacon gave up his search and came back to the castle. But in the evening, a couple of hours before darkness, there was a sudden lull in the weather. The wind dropped completely and the flag of distress flopped limply against its pole so that there was even less chance of its being seen by the two men or anyone from the loch shore.
From the castle terrace Billy Morgan cast art eye at the sky and the racing waves of the loch outside the bay and said to the Chief Mate, ‘ I ain’t spent more years than I like to remember at sea to be fooled by this. I seen the weather play this kind of trick before. This ’ere lull might last an hour, might last six hours. But it’ll blow again and next time harder than ever. Come on – we’ll ’ ave another look at them cliffs.’
‘What if we don’t ’ave no luck, Billy?’
Billy Morgan pursed up his fat face and scratched the little wings of hair alongside his bald head. Then he shrugged his shoulders and said, ‘ Then we must give the lad best and up sticks. We can’t risk another day out here. It’ll grieve me jam-tart for the rest of me life – but there it is. All that lovely silver and tom-foolery what could ’ave put us on easy street for the rest of our natural – whipped from under our noses. You go and get that dog. If there’s any scent up there maybe he’ll get it now the wind’s gone. That lad’s up there in some cave or cranny or my name ain’t Billy Morgan.’
So Bacon was fetched on the lead and in the windless lull the two men went to the cliff top and freed him. And Bacon found Smiler. With no strong wind to dissipate Smiler’s body odour as it came out of the cliff crack when Bacon came to the two over-lapping rocks he picked it up at once. He barked loudly and began to scrape at the rocks and at the loose soil around them. Billy Morgan climbed down to the rocks and leaned out over the top one and saw the long narrow line of the open slit.
Tugging Bacon back to the cliff top he stood in front of the Chief Mate and gave him a big wink.
‘We got him,’ he said. ‘Dogs always knows. Come on. We got things to get. His scent’s comin’out of a crack between two boulders. Could be a cave down there – not that he could ’ave got through the crack. Aye, that’s it – must be some underwater entrance. He jumped over and dived in. ‘Andy little blighter, ain’t he? Yes … it’s got to be like that or my name ain’t Billy Morgan.’
‘You think so, Billy? Sounds a bit –’
‘Course I thinks so – because this ’ere like tells me so.’
Sitting inside the cave Smiler was well aware that the wind had dropped. The water still rolled and splashed beneath the ledge, but there was no longer any whistling wind noise from the thin crack high above him. All his clothes had more or less dried out now and he was fully dressed.
The going of the wind gave Smiler hope. If the bad weather was going to pass then the heavy seas on the loch would drop within a few hours. Or, at least, drop enough to make it safe for a rowing boat.
‘But how, Samuel M.,’ he asked himself, ‘do you get the rowing boat?’
He sat there tackling the problem. The oars had for sure been taken away and hidden, but that didn’t worry him. Piled at the far end of the jetty were some lengths of timber and planking which had been delivered months before for the construction of new pen houses. With a short piece of planking for a paddle he knew that he would be able to manage the boat. He would go with the current up the loch and edge into the nearest shore. Once on the lochside he could take to the hills. If he had anything like a start, the two men would have no chance of catching him and taking the rucksack from him.
But how did he free the boat? There was a hacksaw in the castle workshop, but the chain was a good stout one. It would take a very long time to cut through it – and a hacksaw at work made quite a lot of noise … too much. One of the men, especially if there were no wind to drown the sound, would be bound to hear. How, he asked himself, could he free the boat from the chain? He sat there puzzling about it and then remembered something his father used to say when faced with a tricky problem – ‘ There’s more ways than one, Samuel M., of cracking a nut when there’s no nut-crackers handy.’
Well, thought Smiler, so there might be. You could take a hammer to it, and if you didn’t have a hammer –
At this point he jerked upright and smacked himself on the forehead. ‘Of course! Of course, you fool, Samuel M.,’ he told himself out loud. He knew exactly how to do it and to do it fast and with the minimum of noise.
Just then over the wave sounds in the cave he heard a dog bark. He jerked his head up towards the cliff crack. The bark came again and with it this time there was a scrabbling, scraping sound. A small trickle of earth and fine shale cascaded thinly down the inside of the cave on to the ledge. The dog barked again and Smiler knew that it was Bacon. Bacon was up there on the cliffs and had scented him through the crack. Alarmed, he stood up and moved away out of the line of the crack. Pressed against the far wall of the ledge, where he could not be seen by anyone looking through the crack, he waited.
Bacon barked once more, and then the scrabbling sounds ceased. Smiler waited, and the minutes passed. No sounds came from the slit. Smiler waited on, but still nothing more was heard. Slowly Smiler relaxed. Maybe Bacon hadn’t scented him. Maybe he was just hunting along the cliff and had barked and scratched at the crack out of curiosity. His alarm passed from him and he went back along the ledge, elated by the bright idea he had had about the boat, and began to pack up the rucksack. As soon as it was dark enough he was going to leave.
As time passed the inside of the cave grew darker. The sun dropping to the west threw the outside water into dark shadows and the light from the crack was so faint now that he could hardly see it. Then suddenly Smiler heard Bacon barking once more. Almost immediately there was a heavy clunk, clunk over his head and then the sharp ring of metal striking stone. A cascade of loose roof debris and earth from around the inside of the crack spilled down the steep cave wall to the ledge. Clearly from outside he heard the sound of men’s voices.
Smiler was swamped with a feeling of gloom. They’d found him – and Bacon had been the cause of it all! Pressed against the cave wall out of the sight line from the crack, Smiler heard the thumping and metallic sounds begin again. More thin spills of rubble began to fan down the cave side. He knew exactly what was happening up there. The Skipper and the Chief Mate were attacking the rocks with crowbar and pickaxe. If he took to the water now they would see him and they would only have to get their boat and pick him up. But it was just a matter of time before they broke through the cave roof. How long? If it took them until dark then he might have a chance.
The digging noises stopped. There was silence except for the splashing of the cave water. Suddenly very clear and setting up weird echoes in the cave, a voice came down through the crack.
‘All right’ me old cock sparrer – we knows you’re there. Just you stand well clear of this ’ere ’ole – otherwise you’re likely to get a rock on your noggin.’
It was the Skipper’s voice. Smiler said nothing. They couldn’t be sure he was here and he wasn’t going to give them any hope.
‘Don’t feel like speaking, eh? Never mind – we knows you’re there. Your old tike told us so.’
At this moment a thin torchlight beam suddenly angled down from the crack. It hit the dusty resting ledge six feet away from Smiler, who was pressed back against the cave wall in such a position that no light from the crack could reach him. The light above moved a little, but it had a limited range because of the narrowness of the crack. As it moved Smiler’s heart suddenly sank inside him. Shining brightly in the now steady beam was one of the beer cans resting on the ledge where he had been sitting!
The torch clicked off and the Skipper’s voice came booming down. ‘Lost your tongue, ’ave you? Well, well, matey, I hopes as ’ow you enjoyed the beer. But by now your Auntie Nellie must be pretty empty!’
The sound of pickaxe and crowbar started again above Smiler. There was nothing he could do but wait – wait impatiently until it was dark enough for him to risk moving out of the cave. It was all a question now of how long it would take the two men to break into the cave from above. Huddled against the cave wall Smiler told himself that the moment they did, even if it was light still, he was going to take a header into the water for the cave entrance.
While Billy Morgan and the Chief Mate laboured on the clifftop in the fast fading light, sending rocks and boulders tumbling over the cliffside to make an entrance, Laura was working in the kitchen of the Mackay farm at the western end of the loch. She had the television on and was watching it while she did some ironing. She was all alone in the house. Her brother had gone off to spend the evening at his girl friend’s house at Lochailort, and her mother and father had motored into Mallaig to visit friends for the evening.
The light in the kitchen was going but she did not switch on the lamps because there was enough glow from the television set to see to do the ironing. As she worked she was thinking about Smiler up at the castle and how he had discovered the Elphinstone jewels and of something that her father had said when she had told the family about it.
‘The Laird will give the lad a good reward, that is for certain. Let’s hope he makes something of it.’
‘And why should he not?’ Laura had asked stoutly.
‘Well, lass, I don’t know. But I get the feeling that there’s aye something a wee bit wrong with that lad. Turning up from nowhere and no sign of any kith or kin worrying about him. And don’t give me that saucy stubborn look of yours just because you fancy the colour of his bonnie blue eyes.’ The whole family had laughed and Laura had been unable to stop her blushes. Just for a moment she had wished she could have told them the truth about Sammy. Well, one day they would know.
Just then the telephone rang. She went through the hall to answer it. It was a keeper called Angus Bam who lived over in the next valley south of the loch.
‘Is your father there, Laura?’
‘No, he’s away with Mother to Mallaig for the evening. There’s only me here. Can I help ye?’
‘Well, I thought ye ought to know. I was up on the tops a wee while back getting an old ewe of mine out of a peat hag she was stuck in. This’ll make the third time in a month – the beast is for ever in some trouble. There’s one spot up there I can just get a sight of the Laird’s place so I took a look through my glasses. My, but there’s a fair wave going on the loch just now –’
Suddenly apprehensive, Laura said sharply, ‘Angus Bain, what are you trying to say?’
‘Well, I thought your father ought to know seein’ as he acts for the Laird. Is he no away to London, did I hear? That’s why I asked myself why should his flag be flying at the half-mast if he’s no up there? So, I thought your father ought to know –’
‘Thank you, Angus. I’ll take care of it. Thank you.’ Laura cut him off and put down the telephone.
Her heart beating fast, she ran back into the kitchen, switched off the set and her iron, and then began to collect her oilskins. There had been no hesitation in her at all at what she must do. Sammy was up there all alone and the flag was at half-mast.
A few minutes later she was down on the farm quay wearing gum boots, oilskin coat and hat. Behind her in the house she had left a note for her father. She filled up the outboard motor tank with petrol and as she did so cast a look up the loch. The light was almost gone. There was no wind going, but the whole of the loch was seething with long curling rollers setting eastwards towards the castle island. Usually the trip took about an hour, but with the set of waves and the current now with her, she guessed she could do it faster this evening.
She spun the motor into life with the starting cord and swung away from the little stone quay. Once she was well out she realized that it was not going to be an easy trip. She had to regulate the speed so that the following rollers kept sweeping gently under the boat and not breaking over the stem. If she went too fast she took the crests of the rollers and plunged down into the troughs ahead, the bows dipping dangerously low and shipping water. More hurry, less speed, she told herself sensibly and settled down to navigate with care. But for all her care there were times when she could not avoid the boat taking water. Before she was far up the loch she had to have the baler out to keep the level of the water down. As she began to bale, the night came down and the wind returned.
There was still no cloud and she could see well enough. But it was as though all the elements were now conspiring to stop her from getting to the island. The wind which had been a little south of west when it had died away now came back stronger than ever – and from due south. It came up in a shrieking, buffeting mass. It surged up over the heights of the loch south shore and then, full of turbulence from the barrier of the hills, howled down on to the loch in a confusion of air currents that fought and tangled with one another. One moment the wind was ahead, then astern, and then it came sweeping across her starboard beam making the boat yaw away. Within five minutes the long, rolling eastward set of the waves was gone and Laura found herself in a confused, heavy chop of waters that spouted high now against the bows, now over the stem and then smashing into the sides of the boat.
Although she was frightened, she kept her head. She swung the boat over to the south side of the loch hoping to find calmer water there. If anything it was worse because there was more air turbulence right under the lee of the hills. She veered away to the north side of the loch and found the conditions there almost as bad. The force of the wind was so strong at times that it flattened the high tops of the angry waves and sometimes brought the boat up dead. Her left hand and arm stiff and sore from holding the tiller, Laura baled away at the water in the boat with her right hand. Since she knew there was a fair chance of the boat capsizing she kicked off her gum boots so that if she had to swim they would not hold her down.
The curious thing was that, while she was frightened for herself, working the boat and baling mechanically, her real thoughts were always on the flag at half-mast and there was a misery in her that something had happened to Sammy. Not once did it occur to her to run the boat ashore and seek the haven of the lochside for her own safety. But in the end she was forced to do this because the level of the water shipped aboard began to rise faster than she could bale it out. With the boat sitting heavily and dangerously low in the water she sensibly worked into the north shore. She ran the boat up on to a spur of sand and, although the waves beat at the stern and slewed the boat sideways, she stood up to her thighs in water and baled until it was safe enough for her to take to the loch again. In the next two hours she did this three times. The exhaustion and fatigue made her body ache all over, but not once did she think of giving up. Always she had before her the picture of Sammy in trouble at the castle, lying there maybe dangerously injured orili…
It was midnight when Laura at last rounded the point of the castle bay. The wind was still blowing strongly from the south but had dropped a little in the last ten minutes. She ran into the jetty and jumped out and tied up. There were no other boats at the jetty.
She raced up to the castle and was met by Bacon, who barked a furious welcome. In the great hall Midas was asleep by the fire and made no move. Shouting his name Laura hurried up the stairs to Smiler’s room. The room was empty. She went all round the castle, in a fever of anxiety, looking for him. She searched all the castle with Bacon at her heels and then she took a torch from the kitchen and went through all the animal pens, the wild-fowl enclosure, and then through the woods behind the castle and finally out on to the cliff top. Here, Bacon suddenly raced ahead and led her to a great gaping hole in the side of the cliff where two heavy slabs of rock had been prised away.
Laura leaned over the edge of the hole and shone her torch downwards. She saw the narrow ledge below and the heaving pool of cave water and she knew that this must be the place where Sammy had found the Elphinstone jewels. But there was no sign of Smiler there. On the ledge an empty beer can winked in the beam of her light.
Exhausted and despairing Laura went wearily back to the castle and into the great hall. On the table where she had not noticed it before was a piece of red cloth which she at once recognized as the wrapping from the Elphinstone jewels.
She ran across to the Laird’s study and looked in. Her heart sank as she saw the open door of the safe and knew that the silver and the jewels were no longer there.
She went back into the hall and collapsed into the wing-backed chair and oddly into her mind came her father’s voice, saying, ‘… bnt I get the feeling that there’s aye something a wee bit wrong with that lad.’ Almost immediately she was furious with herself for thinking, even for a moment, that Sammy might have taken the jewels on his own account.
Shivering and feeling sick with fatigue and apprehension, she dragged herself into the kitchen and made herself a cup of coffee. Before she had half drunk it she rested her head and arms on the kitchen table and sank into a deep sleep. Against the fatigue and strain of the loch journey, and her worry and fears for Sammy, and the shock of the missing silver and jewels, her mind and body had no defence except to relapse into sleep.
When Laura awoke it was still dark. Putting on her oilskins she went up to the great hall and out on to the terrace. The wind was still blowing a full gale from the south and with it now came solid sheets of rain. The terrace was awash and every spout and gutter of the castle was noisy with the rush of rainwater. Using her torch Laura made another inspection of the surroundings of the castle, but in her heart she knew that she was wasting her time. If Sammy had been on the island she was sure that she would have found him by now. Always at the back of her mind was the thought of the Laird’s rowing boat which was missing from its jetty moorings.
She came back and searched the castle once more and then, as the dawn came up, though it brought no cessation of the gale and the rain, the she made another inspection of the island. Coming back she saw that there was no food or water for the animals in their pens and one look at Mrs Brown told her that the cow had not been milked for more than twenty-four hours. To give herself something to do which would take her mind off her thoughts, she watered and fed the animals and then milked Mrs Brown. Wherever she went Bacon went with her, full of restlessness and whining to himself now and then.
When the daylight had strengthened more she went down through the driving rain and wind to make sure that her boat was still safely moored at the jetty. It was filling with water from the rain and the wave spray that burst over it. She went aboard and baled it out. As she did so she was wondering what she should do next. With the weather as it was she was in no mood to risk the boat trip back to the farm. Last night’s experience had been enough for her. Anyway, her parents would know from her note where she had gone. Looking up she saw the castle flag still flapping stiffly in the wind at half-mast. When she went up she decided she would hoist it right up.
Her eyes coming back from the flag, she looked out across the bay towards the Hen and Chickens. She could only just make them out through the driving veils of rain. Now and again the thicker squalls blotted them out altogether. Then, just at the mouth of the bay, she saw something rising and falling sluggishly in the angry surging and rolling waves. A large roller suddenly took the object and swept it upwards and then burst right over it. In that moment of time Laura caught the flash of black and white paint.
She dropped the baler and snatched the canvas cover off the outboard motor. It took her some time to start the engine, but fifteen minutes later she was motoring across the choppy bay and ran alongside the object. It was the Laird’s rowing boat, floating the right side up – but filled to the gunwales with water. The boat was empty and one side of the centre thwart had been smashed clean in half. She circled round it and then headed back for the jetty. As she went her eyes were blinded more by tears than rain and she was praying to herself that Sammy had never been fool enough – no matter what the reason – to risk putting off in the boat while the gale had been blowing. The moment he was outside the bay he would have been helpless.
But this was exactly what Smiler had done because he had been given no choice. He had clung to the security of the cave while the Skipper and the Chief Mate had worked at enlarging the hole in the roof. It had taken them a long time and while they had worked the darkness had fallen and the gale had come back, stronger than ever, from the south.
In the end Smiler had hoisted on the heavy rucksack and taken to the water. He had dived out through the entrance. Clinging as close as the breaking waves would allow him to the foot of the cliffs he had swum along them towards the bay, helped by the strong current that still set that way.
Ten minutes after he had gone, Billy Morgan had widened the hole in the cliff enough to allow him to get his head and shoulders through and shine the torch around the cave. It had been empty.
Billy Morgan and the Chief Mate had run np to the jetty to check the boats. They had found the rowing boat gone and the fastening loop of the chain hanging still intact over the side of their own boat.
It was at this moment that Smiler in the rowing boat, half a mile eastward down the loch, had run into disaster. The short plank length he was using for an oar was completely useless and he was drifting helplessly in the wild sea. A wave had taken the boat beam side on, swung it high and capsized it. Smiler, heavy rucksack still on his back, had been thrown into the loch. The boat had rolled right over above him and the keel had struck him on the forehead. He had gone down conscious only of a blinding pain in his head.