Part 27 (1/2)
”'Bothered if you won't,' says he, and with that he ups with his hand and off comes the black patch, and he pulls off the beard and gives her a kiss and a smack on the shoulder. She always said she nearly died when she see it was her new-made bridegroom under the beard.
”So she took her own man in as a lodger, and he went to work up at Upton's Farm with his beard on, and of nights he kept up the smuggling business. And for a year or more no one knowd as it was him. But they got him at last.”
”What became of him?” We all asked it.
”He's dead,” said the old man. ”But, Lord love you, so's everybody as lived in them far-off old ancient days--all dead--Preventives too--and smugglers and gentry: all gone under the daisies.”
We felt quite sad. Oswald hastily asked if there wasn't any smuggling now.
”Not hereabouts,” the old man answered, rather quickly for him. ”Don't you go for to think it. But I did know a young chap--quite young he is with blue eyes--up Sunderland way it was. He'd got a goodish bit o'
baccy and stuff done up in a ole s.h.i.+rt. And as he was a-goin' up off of the beach a coastguard jumps out at him, and he says to himself, 'All u.
p. this time,' says he. But out loud he says, 'Hullo, Jack, that you? I thought you was a tramp,' says he.
”'What you got in that bundle?' says the coastguard.
”'My was.h.i.+ng,' says he, 'and a couple pairs of old boots.'
”Then the coastguard he says, 'Shall I give you a lift with it?'
thinking in himself the other chap wouldn't part if it was anything it oughtn't to be. But that young chap was too sharp. He says to himself, 'If I don't he'll nail me, and if I do--well, there's just a chance.'
”So he hands over the bundle, and the coastguard he thinks it must be all right, and he carries it all the way up to his mother's for him, feeling sorry for the mean suspicions he'd had about the poor old chap.
But that didn't happen near here. No, no.”
I think Dora was going to say, ”_Old_ chap--but I thought he was young with blue eyes?” but just at that minute a coastguard came along and ordered us quite harshly not to lean on the boat. He was quite disagreeable about it--how different from our own coastguards! He was from a different station to theirs. The old man got off very slowly.
And all the time he was arranging his long legs so as to stand on them, the coastguard went on being disagreeable as hard as he could, in a loud voice.
[Ill.u.s.tration: A COASTGUARD ORDERED US QUITE HARSHLY NOT TO LEAN ON THE BOAT.]
When our old man had told the coastguard that no one ever lost anything by keeping a civil tongue in his head, we all went away feeling very angry.
Alice took the old man's hand as we went back to the village, and asked him why the coastguard was so horrid.
”They gets notions into their heads,” replied the old man; ”the most innocentest people they comes to think things about. It's along of there being no smuggling in these ere parts now. The coastguards ain't got nothing to do except think things about honest people.”
We parted from the old man very warmly, all shaking hands. He lives at a cottage not quite in the village, and keeps pigs. We did not say goodbye till we had seen all the pigs.
I daresay we should not have gone on disliking that disagreeable coastguard so much if he had not come along one day when we were talking to our own coastguards, and asked why they allowed a pack of young shavers in the boat-house. We went away in silent dignity, but we did not forget, and when we were in bed that night Oswald said--
”Don't you think it would be a good thing if the coastguards had something to do?”
d.i.c.ky yawned and said he didn't know.
”I should like to be a smuggler,” said Oswald. ”Oh, yes, go to sleep if you like; but I've got an idea, and if you'd rather be out of it I'll have Alice instead.”
”Fire away!” said d.i.c.ky, now full of attention, and leaning on his elbow.
”Well, then,” said Oswald, ”I think we _might_ be smugglers.”