“SMUGGLERY”
“Papa, dear,” said Wynnette as she re-entered the dilapidated carriage,
“we must go to the sexton’s cottage to bid good-by to the old man.”
“Yes, my dear. Kirby, go back to your father’s cottage before we turn
into the highroad,” said Mr. Force.
The carriage rattled on, and in a short time drew up before the sexton’s
lodge at the great gate of the churchyard.
The old man still sat before the door; but he was smoking, and his bald
head and long white beard were enveloped in smoke.
He took the pipe from his mouth the instant he heard the sound of wheels
and he held out his hand to welcome Wynnette as she ran up to him.
“Ah, my little leddy; I ha’ read the lad’s letter! Ah! I do get a letter
by mail fra’ ’m coome the first week on every month! But a letter
brought by a leddy’s hand and she ha’ seen him face to face mayhap
within a month! Ah! but that’s better!”
“I have seen your son and shaken hands with him, and talked to him for
hours, within twenty-three days,” said Wynnette, after making a rapid
calculation.
“Eh, now! is thet possible?”
“I rode on his train all day on the twenty-sixth of May, two days before
we sailed for England. And this, you know, is the eighteenth of June.”
“Eh, then! look at thet, noo! Only in twenty-three days! He’s not thet
far away, after all, is he, me leddy?”
“Oh, no. Why, it’s nothing! Only across ‘the big herring pond,’ you
know.”
The old man stared helplessly.
“That is what they call it for fun, because it is such a little matter
to go across it. Why, people say to each other when they meet on the
deck of a steamer: ‘Going across?’ And another will say: ‘Not to-day.’
So you see what a trifle it is.”
“So it must be, indeed, me little leddy. And your words ha’ comforted me
more than the counsels of his reverence. Such a little thing! ‘Go
across?’ ‘Not to-day.’ Yes, that is a comfort. And the good ’bacco is
another comfort. The ’bacco was in the parcel you brought me, me leddy;
and you couldn’t get such ’bacco as this—no, not for love, nor yet for
money—not if you was a dying for ’t! Why, the Yarl o’ Middlemoor would
be proud to smoke sich ’bacco—I know he would! It must ha’ cost a power
o’ money! I reckon my lad be getting rich over yonder, to send his
feyther sich ’bacco as this. And the duty on’t must a been staggering
loike!”
Here Wynnette started. She had not seen any duty paid on that tobacco;
nor, indeed, had the custom house officers at Liverpool seen the
tobacco; but she had not even thought of this before.
“And yet I ha’ a greater comfort even than this ’bacco as is fit for the
Turkey of All Constantinople to smoke. My lad writes as he is coming
over with his missus to see me next autumn. Thet’s the crooning comfort,
me leddy—thet’s the crooning comfort!”
Wynnete now took leave of the old man, and returned to her seat in the
carriage.
He arose with difficulty and stood up, bowing to the party, while Mr.
Force and Le raised their hats as the carriage drove off.
They returned upon their way, repassed the front of the old manor house,
now again closed up and gloomy, turned into the oak avenue, and in a few
minutes came to the great gate, which was opened by Mrs. Dillon, the
keeper of the lodge.
She smiled and courtesied as the old carriage passed.
Le, who was nearest to her, reached out his hand and dropped a piece of
silver in her palm.
She courtesied again. The carriage turned into the highroad and began
the journey back to Angleton.
The sun had set, and even the afterglow had faded from the western
horizon; yet still the long twilight of summer nights in these latitudes
prevailed, and the greater stars shone out one by one as they rattled
on, uphill and downhill, over the rolling moor, until at last they came
in view of the lights in the quiet village.
In ten minutes they entered the street, and passed under the archway of
the Anglesea Arms, the hungriest and weariest set of travelers who had
ever entered that ancient hostelry.
Jonah jumped from his seat and secured his horse.
Mr. Force alighted and handed out Wynnette. Le followed them. He had
scarcely spoken a word since leaving the mausoleum.
The landlady came out to meet them, in her Sunday gown of black silk,
and a new cap.
“I hope as you’ve hed a pleasant day, sir,” she said to Mr. Force, who
was the first to meet her.
“Thank you, madam. We have had a very hungry day, at any rate; and, if
you please, we would like just such a spread as you gave us last
evening,” replied Abel Force.
“You shall have it, sir. It will be on the table in twenty minutes.”
By this time they had reached the parlor and Mr. Force was pulling off
his gloves, when Wynnette said:
“Papa, I shall run up to my room and take off my things, and wash my
face, but I will be back in a little while.”
“Very well, my dear.”
Wynnette vanished.
Mr. Force sat down in the large armchair.
Le stood at the window and stared out at nothing whatever.
Jonah, in a clean white apron, and the official towel thrown over his
arm, came in, offered Mr. Force the Angleton _Advertiser_, and then
began to pull and stretch the perfectly smooth tablecloth this way and
that to show his zeal.
Presently he went out, and Wynnette returned to the room.
She glanced around, and, seeing no one present but her two companions,
drew a chair to her father’s side, threw herself into it and exclaimed:
“Oh, papa! I have been aching and burning and throbbing to tell you
something, but could not get a chance, because that man was always
present, and I was afraid he might inform on us and get us arrested, and
I didn’t know what the penalty might be—imprisonment and penal
servitude, perhaps. But, for all that, I am delighted—perfectly beside
myself with delight!”
“What are you talking of, Wynnette, my dear?”
“Here comes that man again. We must be cautious, though I could dance in
triumph,” said Wynnette.
At this moment Jonah re-entered the parlor with an ample waiter, on
which were piled the china, glass and cutlery, with which he hastened to
set the table.
When he had left the room again Wynnette continued in a mysterious
whisper:
“Papa, I have committed smugglery.”
“‘Smugglery,’ my dear. There’s no such word.”
“Well, then, there ought to be, and henceforth there is. I was born to
enrich the language, and—to commit smugglery. And I am proud and
delighted! But I should have been ever so much prouder and no end to be
delighted if I had intended to commit. But, ah me! It was an accident.
‘Some are born great; some achieve greatness; and some have greatness
thrust upon them,’ and others become great by accident. Such is my
case.”
“You rattle-trap, what are you talking about?”
“Smuggling, papa! That parcel I brought to old Mr. Kirby contained a tin
box of choice tobacco, and the duty is higher, and the excise law
stringent, and we never paid a cent!”
Mr. Force looked aghast, and then burst into a laugh.
“How did it happen, Wynnette?” he inquired, when he had done laughing.
“I did not know the thing was tobacco.”
“No more did I! I wish I had! But I didn’t. And the officer searched all
our trunks, and all our bags, and I carried that parcel in my hand, and
he never even looked at it! Oh! I am so proud of having smuggled that
tobacco! I wish I had intended it! But, henceforth, I do intend it! I
mean to smuggle every time I can get a chance—not for any profit to
myself, but for the principle of the thing! The Lord never made the
excise laws and so my conscience is not bound by them. And I never
helped to make them, and so my honor is not bound by them. But you,
papa, must keep them, because you have been a lawmaker.”
Wynnette’s discourse was cut short by the entrance of the waiter with
the supper, which he proceeded to arrange on the table.
“All ready, maister,” he said, with a flourish.
Wynnette took her seat at the head of the table to pour out the tea.
Mr. Force and Le sat down at opposite sides.
Jonah stayed until Mr. Force told him he need not wait. Then he went
out, and was met at the door by his sister Hester, who inquired:
“Wot was in t’ parcels t’ leddy carried to grandfeyther?”
“’Bacco, sent by Uncle John.”
“Oh! nawthing but ’bacco!” said the girl, in a tone of disappointment.
“There ain’t nothing better in this world nor ’bacco,” replied the boy,
as their voices passed out of hearing.
The travelers finished their supper and soon after retired for the
night.