On the fourth day, Susan received another shock. It was occasioned by the sudden arrival of a second party of Revenue men, who came, they said, to make a further search of the premises, the officers having received information that the Nettlebys were hiding somewhere in the neighbourhood. Susan, of course, could offer no opposition, and accordingly (although almost ready to drop through fear at the sight), resumed her occupation with apparent unconsciousness, borne of her innate bravery, and watched them repeat the scrutiny of their former visit, and examine every hole and corner. Oh! how her heart beat, and how faint she felt as the men opened the door of the closet beneath which her two relatives were hidden! But, happily, the concealment was perfect, and the search was soon discontinued, the Revenue officers retiring once more disappointed. This visit went far towards hastening her father’s departure. He had already determined to quit the cottage and retire to a distance; most likely abroad, to one of our far away colonies, taking his son Joseph with him. Susan steadfastly refused to go far away; for she said to herself, “if Will should return and not be able to find me it would kill him, and besides I could not give up all hope of seeing him again, which would have to be done if I went abroad.” In vain her brother repeated his assertion that Hardisty was dead, and although she mourned his loss, as we have said, in her heart, she still hoped that he was alive and would return; thus she clung to the spot where she knew he would expect to find her, and she was at last allowed to have her own way and remain.
During the years when the miller had worked honestly at his business he had been frugal and industrious, spending money carefully, and saving something every year, until he possessed a very fair sum. Subsequently to his joining the smugglers, however, this sum was rapidly increased, owing to the enormous profits made by their transactions, in which he contrived to have a large stake; thus, when the collapse came and he was thrown upon his resources he was plentifully provided with funds to carry himself and son to a new home and start them in business there, and also to support Susan until he decided to join them, or, as the old miller said, “to come to her senses and not look so lackadaisical.”
Thus it was finally arranged that the old man and Joseph should leave during the night, and make the best of their way to Liverpool or Bristol, and there obtain a passage on board some ship bound for North America, and settle there, in or near to some place on the coast, sending word to Susan where they might be found. She was to be provided with money, and, as the cottage and mill were their own property, either live there herself or dispose of it (for which purpose she was to have the requisite authority), and remove to Hull; in fact, to act as she pleased, have a home always ready for her when she chose to join her parent, who disclosed more tenderness towards her as the time of separation approached. If Stephen returned, which was not considered lightly, she was to assist him in joining the others in America.
Thus everything was finally arranged, and as the hour came when Susan must be left sole occupant of the old home. Since it had been settled that the father and son were to go away alone, the former had shown that however harsh and stern ha had been towards his daughter, in the recesses of his heart was a fountain of warm affection, which the wrench caused by this, their first separation, rendered visible. Braving the danger of detection he would venture to remain in the kitchen, and sit there for an hour with his eyes following her every motion with a light of love in them to which they had long been shut. Yet despite this apparent relenting she had never dared to question him further as to the fate of her lover. It was only at the last moment, as the father and son were leaving the house, the former said, “Remember your promise my child, you will come to me soon? I shall feel a lonely old man until I see you again.”
“Yes, truly! Father dear, I will come,” she sobbed, and then suddenly throwing herself upon his breast, she placed one hand on each of his shoulders, and looking at him though her tears, asked, “And Will, too, if he comes back?”
The old man gave one long, loving look at her pale, sad face, and then disengaging himself from her embrace, said in a soft voice “He will return. Bring Will, too. Farewell.” and walked away through the darkness, along with Joe. Then Susan was left truly alone. Closing the door, she seated herself beside the fire, alternately weeping tears of sorrow at the separation from her father, and joy at the assurance conveyed in his parting words that Will Hardisty was yet alive, and would eventually return. But soon drying her eyes she began to resolutely consider how she ought to act until that happy event occurred.
Her resolution was soon formed, she could not continue to live in that lonely cottage alone, it would not be safe. Therefore she must leave it for the present and take up her abode in Hull, where her lover was sure to go on his return; for in thinking over the revelation made by her father, and speculating as to where they could possibly have hidden a wounded man (for wounded her lover undoubtedly was), she had suddenly thought of the escape of her brother Stephen in the smugglers’ boat, and decided that Will Hardisty must have been taken away by the same means. Therefore, if such were the fact, she could not be in a better place than Hull, as, in all probability, he would return there from abroad. Having settle this in her own mind, Susan retired for a short rest, feeling more happy and composed than at any moment since that disastrous night.
The unusual tranquility of her mind led to a sound and refreshing sleep, from which she did not awake until late on the following morning; but once fairly aroused, her preparations for departure were soon complete, and, having made all secure, she saddled the little pony and set off towards Hull, along the road which she had often travelled with her father on market days, and which she thought she would not pass along many times more, for she was determined to join her only parent so soon as Hardisty arrived.
On arriving in Hull her first duty was to look for lodgings, which fortunately she soon found at the cottage of an old woman, the widow of a sailor, whom she had long known. She next proceeded to the lawyer’s with whom her father usually transacted his legal business, and to whom he had previously written instructions as to what Susan might do with the property in his absence. She had been told by her father that there was sufficient money belonging to him in the lawyer’s hands to fully satisfy all her wants, and this she found to be correct. From the lawyer she also heard fuller particulars of the struggle which had taken place between the Coastguard and the smugglers, and the results which had followed. He said the fight was the most desperate that had ever occurred on the Yorkshire coast. Tow of the smugglers and one of the Revenue men had been killed, whilst several were very severely wounded on both sides, two of the smugglers being in prison at the point of death, and the other captives too ill yet to be brought up for trial. The only prisoner free from wounds was Deaf Jacob, who had been found near the spot fast asleep, “and,” continued the lawyer, “there is such slight evidence against him that if properly defended he might escape conviction; but I think the poor fellow has not the money required for that purpose.”
Susan no sooner heard this than she thought it her duty to assist her father’s old comrade. She therefore immediately offered to provide the necessary funds, and instructed the lawyer to undertake his defence. This matter being settled, the latter said, “The Revenue people are rendered more bitter in their animosity towards the smugglers by the mysterious disappearance of Will Hardisty, but perhaps ere the trial that evil will be remedied, for I have heard” – and here he took up a long letter which Susan perceived was written by her father – “that Will Hardisty will shortly return, and we are then to have a little ceremony, heh, Miss Susan?”
The last words were spoken with a sly look which called upon the conscious blushes to Susan’s pale face, and made her look as pretty as of old, but she could not reply, and, therefore, covered her blushes by retreating from the speaker’s presence. All little matters of business having been arranged, Susan settled down into a regular routine, spending the whole of each day in the neighbourhood of the harbour, where she imagined she was most likely to meet her lover again, and thus in a short space became as well known to the honest mariners as any of its frequenters. Her object in making that daily visit having also become known, much sympathy was expressed, and many rude words of comfort spoken as they observed her anxious gaze ever directed seawards.
But it is needless to dwell on this part of our story. It is sufficient to say that her perseverance was eventually crowned with success. About a month from the time of her arrival she had the inexpressible rapture of being once more folded in her lover’s protecting arms, who returned well and strong, only fearful as to what might have happened to his darling during his enforced absence. On the first evening after they were reunited, sitting hand in hand on the bank of the River Humber, her lover told the story of his adventures since the fight at Spurn Point.