Part 3 (1/2)

”Have you examined the keg, men,” said the squire, ”to ascertain if it contains spirits?”

”No, your wors.h.i.+p, we would not venture to do that, seeing that t'other day when one of the coastguard broached a keg to see whether it had brandy or not he got into trouble for drinking the spirits.”

”For drinking the spirits! He deserved to be,” exclaimed Sir Reginald.

”However, that is not the point. Bring the keg here, and if you broach it in my presence you need have no fear of the consequences. There can be little doubt that we shall be able to convict this fellow, and send him to gaol for twelve months. I wish it to be understood that I intend by every means in my power to put a stop to the proceedings of these lawless smugglers, who have so long been carrying on this illegal traffic with impunity in this part of the country.”

Jack Cope, who had kept a perfectly calm demeanour from the time he had been brought up to the table, smiled scornfully as Sir Reginald spoke.

He said nothing, however, as he turned his glance towards the door. In a short time a revenue man appeared carrying a keg on his shoulders.

”Place it on the table,” said Sir Reginald. ”Can you swear this is the keg you took from the prisoner?” he asked of the constable.

”Yes, your wors.h.i.+p. It has never been out of our custody since we captured it,” replied the man.

”And _I_, too, can swear that it is the same keg that was taken from me!” exclaimed the bold smuggler in a confident tone.

”Silence there, prisoner,” said Sir Reginald, ”You are not to speak until you are desired. Let the cask be broached.”

A couple of gla.s.ses and a gimlet had been sent for. The servant now brought them on a tray. One of the officers immediately set to work and bored a couple of holes in the head and side of the cask. The liquid which flowed out was bright and sparkling. The officer pa.s.sed it under his nose, but made no remark, though I thought his countenance exhibited an odd expression.

”Hand it here,” said Sir Reginald. ”Bah!” he exclaimed, intensely disgusted, ”why, it's salt water.”

”I told you so, your wors.h.i.+p,” said Jack Cope, apparently much inclined to burst into a fit of laughter. ”You'll believe me another time, I hope, when I said that I had gone down to the seaside to get some salt water for one of my children; and I think you'll allow, your wors.h.i.+p, that it is salt water.”

”You are an impudent rascal!” exclaimed Sir Reginald, irritated beyond measure at the smuggler's coolness. ”I shall not believe you a bit the more. I suspect that you have played the officers a trick to draw them away from your companions, and though you escape conviction this time, you will be caught another, you may depend upon that; and you may expect no leniency from me. Set the prisoner at liberty, there is no further evidence against him.”

”I hope, Sir Reginald, that I may be allowed to carry my keg of salt water home,” said the smuggler demurely. ”It is my property, of which I have been illegally deprived by the officers, and I demand to have it given to me back.”

”Let the man have the keg,” said Sir Reginald in a gruff voice. ”Is there any other case before me?”

”No, your wors.h.i.+p,” replied his clerk.

And Jack Cope carried off his cask of salt water in triumph, followed by the officers and the other persons who had entered the hall.

I had observed that Jack Cope had eyed my father and me as we were seated with the baronet, and it struck me that he had done so with no very pleasant expression of countenance.

”These proceedings are abominable in the extreme, Mr Cheveley,”

observed the justice to my father. ”We must, as I before remarked, put an effectual stop to them. You have a good deal of influence in your parish, and I must trust to you to find honest men who will try and obtain information, and give us due notice when a cargo is to be run.”

”I fear the people do not look upon smuggling as you and I do, Sir Reginald,” observed my father. ”The better cla.s.s of my paris.h.i.+oners may not probably engage in it, but the _very_ best of them would think it dishonourable to act the part of informers. I do not believe any bribe would induce them to do so.”

”Perhaps not, but you can place the matter before them in its true light. Show them that they are acting a patriotic part by aiding the officers of the law in putting a stop to proceedings which are so detrimental to the revenue of the country. If they can be made to understand the injury which smuggling inflicts on the fair trader, they may see it in a different light from that in which they at present regard it. The Government requires funds to carry on the affairs of the nation, and duties and taxes must be levied to supply those funds. We should show them that smuggling is a practice which it is the duty of all loyal men to put a stop to.”

”I understand your wishes, Sir Reginald, and agree with you that energetic measures are necessary; and you may depend upon my exerting myself to the utmost.”

”My great object, at present, is to capture the 'Saucy Bess.' The revenue officers afloat will, of course, do their duty; but she has so often eluded them that my only hope is to catch her while she is engaged in running her cargo. I will give a handsome reward to any one who brings reliable information which leads to that desirable result.”

”I am afraid that, although one or two smugglers may be captured, others will soon take their places; as while the present high duties on spirits, silks, and other produce of France exist, the profit to be made by smuggling will always prove a temptation too strong to be resisted,”

observed my father. ”If the smugglers find that a vigilant watch is kept on this part of the coast they will merely carry on their transactions in another part.”

”At all events, my dear Mr Cheveley, we shall have the satisfaction of knowing that we have done our duty in removing what I consider a disgrace to our community,” observed Sir Reginald. ”As to lowering the duties, that is what I will never consent to. I shall always oppose any scheme of the sort while I hold my place in Parliament. I feel that I am bound to preserve things as they are, and am not to be moved by the brawling cries of demagogues.”