This reminded the Lieutenant to look out again, and Matilda remained

musing at the fire for a few moments. It seemed to her that our native

manufacturers were very ill-used, being deprived of the stimulus to

improvement which is caused by free and fair competition, while they

were undersold in their own market, with the connivance of those who

mocked them with the semblance of protection. She thought the dwellers

on the coast ill-used; their duty to the government being placed, by

arbitrary means, in direct opposition to their interests, and their

punishment being severe and, from its nature, capricious, in proportion

as temptation was made too strong for them. Her husband's shout of

"Holloa, there!" to some person without brought her to the window, where

she saw against the dim sky the outline of one who appeared motionless

and dumb.

It was not for a considerable time that any explanation could be

elicited. At last a melancholy, gruff voice said,

"I thought I might chance to see my lady. I was only looking about for

my lady."

"And where did you expect to find me, Nicholas?" asked Matilda, looking

out over her husband's shoulder. "You may have seen me sit on yonder

gun, or lean over the fence sometimes; but I do not choose such an hour

or such weather as this."

Nicholas only knew that he could have no rest till he had apologized for

not having answered when he was spoken to in the morning. He wished to

say that he must not speak while on watch; but, as to being

disrespectful to the lady----

The lady acquitted him of any such enormity, and would have sent him

away happy with the assurance that she did not now conclude him

stony-hearted for laughing when Uriah Faa was ducked. The Lieutenant

had, however, a word to say to him about the state of things on the

beach. No alarm had been given, Nicholas reported, though he would not,

for his part, swear that the expected vessel might not be near. He had

not seen that vessel, nor any other; for, as the Lieutenant might have

observed, it was too dark to see anything: but he would not swear that

it might not be to be seen, if it was now daylight. This being all that

could be got out of him, Nicholas was permitted to depart to his rest;

rest which he wanted not a little, for he had lingered about for more

than an hour at the close of his watch, in the vague hope of seeing

Matilda, without taking any measures to do so. He stretched his tired

limbs before the fire, thinking (though he was nearly a quarter of a

mile from the big stone on the beach) that he was a happy man, as

everybody was very kind to him.

CHAPTER V.

MORNING WALKS.

The next dawn broke bright and clear, to the surprise of every body who

was learned in the weather, and greatly to the disappointment of certain

parties who had an interest in the continuance of the fog.

On a steep slope among the cliffs of Beachy Head, at the foot of a lofty

wall of chalk, and sheltered by it, was collected a party of men, women,

and children, who had little appearance of having just risen from their

beds. The men, for the most part, were stretched at length, drinking, or

looking out languidly to sea. The two women, one young, the other middle

aged, and brown, weather-worn, and in sordid apparel, with lank hair

hanging about her ears, were smoking, and busying themselves in the

feminine employment of making a clearance. That is, they were stowing

certain packages in the bottom of huge panniers, destined for the backs

of three asses, which were looking up from the beach in vain longing for

the inaccessible, scanty herbage of the slope. Two girls, as brown as

the elder woman, were amusing themselves with picking up the balls of

foam which had been thrown in by the fierce tide, and sending them

trembling down the wind. Uriah Faa, in apparent forgetfulness of the

disgraces of the preceding day, sat dangling his heels from a projecting

piece of the cliff, aiming fragments of chalk at the auks and wills

which flapped past him, or swept out to sea in long lines below. One man

was seen apart from the group, who did not appear to belong to the

place, the persons, or the hour. He stood leaning at the mouth of a

cleft in the chalk precipice, sometimes yawning, sometimes buttoning his

great coat closer, as the morning breeze passed him, and then glancing

up apprehensively at one point after another of the cliffs overhead, as

if he expected to see there the peeping face of a spy. Next, he looked

at his watch, and seemed growing so restless and uncomfortable, that the

younger of the women took upon herself to comfort him by giving notice

that the sloop was expected every moment to arrive for its cargo of

chalk, and that all would be safe before the spies could see so far off

as a furlong.

"But the division is not made yet," objected the agent. "My bandanas are

stowed away with some of Solomon's packages; and you know Alexander

makes over to me his venture of ribbons and lace, this time."

"What put that into your head?" growled Alexander, half raising himself,

and looking surlily at the agent. "Do you think I have risked running in

in a fog, and wrought since midnight, to give over my share to anybody?

You may take your chance next time. You'll find the matter well worth

staying for."

"But, you know, Alexander, we settled that I was to have the first batch

that was landed;--for a consideration, you remember--for a fair

consideration. One night suits you as well as another, living on the

spot."

"By no means; when one batch is safe ashore, and the other still at

sea."

"But, consider, I cannot spare two days. They want me at Brighton every

hour, and I promised Breme that he should have the goods----"

Alexander seemed to think that all this was nothing to him, while he had

his package safe under his elbow. He applied himself to a fresh dram of

Hollands, and appeared to have done listening.

"Try Solomon," advised Mrs. Draper. "He is liberal, and likes to

accommodate. He will take the chance of another night, if you make it

worth his while."

"Here comes Solomon himself," cried several voices, as a well-known

whistle announced the approach of some one; and Mr. Pim appeared from a

side path, (if path it might be called,) his hands crossed behind him,

and his merry face shining through the dusk.

"I thought you would take your morning's walk this way," observed Mrs.

Draper, as she handed him a mug, and pointed to the right keg.

"It is time we were parting instead of meeting," said Pim. "We shall

have a bright morning upon us full soon enough."

"Father," shouted Uriah, "the fog is drawing off, and here is the sloop

coming in below."

"Trinity, bring the ass to yon point," cried Mrs. Draper to her little

daughter, who was scrambling on all fours up the steepest part of the

slope.

"Here, Lussha, my beauty," said old Faa to his grandchild, "help me to

fill up the panniers, my bird."

Uriah came to help, and a respectable load of chalk was presently heaped

upon the packages in the panniers, which were forthwith carried down,

and hung upon the shaggy asses. Old Faa then helped to set each

bare-legged child astride on the beasts, and commended them to each

other's care. Slowly and surely the animals took their way along the

ribbed chalk which here constituted the beach, while the children looked

back to hear what Pim was saying to them.

"Trinity Draper, I hope you don't forget your catechism, my child. There

is a lady coming to the school in a day or two, and it will be the worse

for you if you cannot say your Catechism. Uriah and Lussha, you hear

what I say. Remember your catechism."

Their Saturday's train of associations being awakened by this warning,

the children began involuntarily to gabble altogether, and their

confusion of tongues made itself heard as they wound out of sight, till

a stumble of Trinity's steed caused Uriah's gallantry to prevail over

his scholarship, and occupied him in belabouring her ass with true gipsy

grace and strength.

A pale yellow ray shot up from the horizon full into the cleft, beside

which the unshaven and weary agent stood, making his bargain with Pim.

This first break of sunshine was a signal not to be neglected. The

laziest of the party sprang to their feet, and hastened to deposit their

kegs and bales under the chalk which formed the apparent cargo of the

sloop that pitched below in the light grey waters. As the fog disclosed

more and more of the expanse, two or three of the men fixed their

glasses from behind different projections, anxious to be assured that

the lugger, which had approached under cover of the darkness, was

scudding away before the light. She was just visible when the whole

horizon became clear, making all speed towards her native coast. Though

there was reason to hope that all was safe, as far as she was concerned,

there was danger that the smuggling party might be surprised by the

apparition of the revenue cutter from the east or the west, before all

needful precautions were taken; and there was a prodigious stir among

the more active and the more timid of the party. Within half an hour the

fire was put out, and the embers scattered to the winds; the men

wandered off in different directions, and nobody remained amidst the

wild scene but Mr. Pim, who looked about him and whistled to the

sea-birds, and Mrs. Draper, who lingered behind the rest of the gipsy

party, to seek satisfaction to her maternal and friendly solicitudes

about the progress of her child and the Faas at the school.

By dint of many questions, she learned that the young people were likely

to be excellent Christians, as they were very ready at the Bible; highly

moral, as they were always whipped when they did wrong; as patriotic as

if they had not belonged to a foreign tribe, since they lost no

opportunity of insulting the Preventive men; and finally, very

scholastic, as they had learned to sit still by the half hour together,

which had at first appeared a point impossible of achievement. The

mother's heart was so elated with this report, and Pim found it so much

pleasanter to walk and whistle in the wintry sunshine than to play the

pedagogue, that the discourse was prolonged far beyond the hour when his

duties ought to begin; he comforting himself with the assurance that

Rebecca would take care that the little things had something to do.

In the midst of his holiday mood, he was disturbed by a voice calling

him from overhead, and, looking up, he perceived Rebecca herself,

earnestly gesticulating at the summit of the cliff. She shouted, she

beckoned, incessantly, and seemed in such a fever of impatience that her

father concluded that some disaster must have happened.

"Hi, hi, Beck!" resounded his mighty voice, in answer, from the face of

the cliff, as he began to scramble up the track by which he had

descended. "What, is the house on fire, girl, or do the spies want to

get hold of me?" he asked, with prodigious tranquillity; "or," and at

the thought he quickened his scramble into a kind of kangaroo leap, "or

has any harm come to some of the brats?"

"The ladies are come! the ladies! and nobody at home but I and the

dame," cried Rebecca; and her news seemed to be received with nearly as

much vexation by her father as it was related with agony by herself.

"They will dodge the brats, and put them out," he growled in his deepest

tone: "after all the pains I meant to take to-day, the little things

will be out in their Bibles, though they can say it all with me. The

Faas and Draper will not be there, however; only the soberer sort of

children."

He was mistaken. The gipsy pupils were present with the rest, and formed

a part of the class which Matilda had collected around her, and whom she

was now engaged in examining.

"Think of your running away yourself!" muttered Pim to his daughter.

"Why could not you have sent the dame? There would have been no harm in

her knowing where I was."

"She would hardly have hobbled there and back before dinner," replied

Rebecca. "We have been very quick, and the ladies can't have got far."

They had got far enough to see that though the children had (in their

own phrase) "got into the Bible," they had not (to use their master's)

"got through it" with the understanding, whether or not they had with

the tongue. The children Matilda was conversing with were all between

ten and fifteen years of age, and therefore capable of giving

intelligent answers about the patriarchal tale they had been reading, if

about any part of the Bible whatever.

"What did they do next," she asked, "after determining where they should

settle?"

"They pitched their tents before it grew dark."

"Do you know how a tent is pitched?"

"Yes, my lady; it is daubed all over with tar."

Uriah Faa, well-informed on this matter, set the mistake right.

"When they saluted each other, what did they do? What is it to salute?"

"They scolded each other right well."

"If they had wished to scold one another, there would hardly have been

such handsome presents given;--so many sheep and oxen, and asses and

camels. What is a camel?"

"A sow."

"But they _had_ been angry with one another," observed a child.

"Yes; but they were now going to be friends, though they thought each

other in fault. Should we be sorry or angry when others are in fault?"

"Angry."

"Why?"

"Because they have no business to do wrong."

"And if others are angry with us, what should we do?"

"Give them as good as they bring."

Matilda began now to despair of the much-vaunted morals of Mr. Pim's

pupils; but, to give them a fair trial, she turned to the New Testament,

and questioned them about a story that their master allowed they knew

perfectly well.

"When the Apostle had neither silver nor gold, what did he give to the

lame man?"

"Halfpence."

The explanation on the subject of halfpence led to a commentary on the

story of the poor widow, and her gift to the treasury.

"Now, little boy," said Matilda to one of the youngest, who had been

playing stealthily with the end of her fur tippet, "what was the widow's

mite? What is a mite?"

"A flea."

"He knows most about the Old Testament," observed his master, anxious to

shift his ground again.

"Yes," replied Matilda, "he told me about Esau and Jacob, and the mess

of pottage. What is a mess, children?"

"Ashes,"--"Dirt,"--"Rubbish,"--cried they.

"And what is pottage?"

"Sheep's head and taters."

Matilda thought she would try them with the Commandments. "Is it right

to covet?"

"Yes."

"Why so?"

"Because it makes us comfortable to have things."

As a last experiment, she turned back to the first page of the Bible,

and found they could tell that the world was made in six days; upon

hearing which Mr. Pim began to rally his spirits.

"What were the two great lights which were made to rule the day and the

night?"

"Dungeness and the North Foreland."

Matilda rose, and the schoolmaster put the class to flight in a trice,

with a box on the ear to one, a shake to a second, and a kick to a

third. Matilda's remonstrances were lost amidst the tumult of shrieks

and yells which now arose. At the first moment that Pim could spare from

correcting his pupils, he informed the lady that they had got on badly

lately from the impossibility of getting the parents to send them

regularly. When there was any work in hand, someway up the beach----

"Towards Birling Gap," suggested Matilda. "But that sort of work is done

in the night, is it not?"

"Yes; but the little things have enough to do the next day in making a

clearance; and, at such times, up they start, and away, the first minute

I turn my back."

"You turn your back to go after the same business, I am afraid, Mr. Pim.

If you like whistling among the cliffs, and driving bargains in the

clefts better than keeping to your desk, how can you expect the children

not to take the liberty of indulging the same taste when you give them

opportunity?"

Mr. Pim looked about him to ascertain what o'clock it was, and would

fain have made out that it was time for the children to go home; but

Mrs. Storey would not let him off so easily. She convinced him that it

was not yet eleven, and declared that she wished far more to see how

matters ordinarily went on than to usurp the office of interrogator.

When the children had recovered their spirits, and their master his

composure, business was resumed; and Matilda was as much surprised at

the cleverness with which some things were taught as she had been

shocked at the deficiencies of the kind of learning in which Mr. Pim was

the least versed. She now envied him his power over the children's

minds, and the effect which he knew how to produce by a timely joke, or

a familiar illustration, or an appeal to facts with which his pupils

were already familiar. She only wished that he would pique himself

rather less upon his morals while making the very most of the opposition

of interests in the society about him. He could not speak of any virtue

without pointing out that his friends had it, and the Preventive men

not; and, even in the presence of the Lieutenant's wife, it seemed

difficult to restrain the expressions of hatred which were on the lips

of him who taught and of those who answered.

The ladies did not leave the school till it was emptied of the children,

whom they followed, to see how some dropped into their several homes,

and whither others betook themselves. The last who was left to trip

along by herself was Trinity Draper, who cast a glance behind her at

almost every step, as if not liking to have her return accompanied by

strangers. They had no intention, however, of losing sight of her, as

they were disposed for a walk, and found their curiosity excited by the

mingled barbarism and civilization in the air of the children of this

wandering tribe.

They began, after a time, to suspect that the little girl did not mean

to let them see her place of abode, so manifold were her turns and

windings from the beach to the fields, and then upon the downs, and

again to the beach. When she had led them through a long circuit, she

finally struck up the country, and proceeded towards an unfrequented

hollow way, where high banks excluded the view on either side, a rugged

soil wearied the feet of the walker, and nothing was to be seen at the

end of the lane but the grey sea, at the moment undiversified by a

single sail.

"I wonder you are not afraid to set foot in this dreary place, so

alarmed as you were by these very people yesterday," observed Matilda to

her companion, as they arrived in sight of a gipsy tent, spread on a

patch of grass under shelter of the eastern bank. "I have been

speculating all the way on when you would propose to turn back."

Elizabeth replied that she had visited the encampment before, without

fear, knowing that the men were absent at this time of day, and that

there was nothing to fear from the women and children.

"They assemble at meal times, I fancy," replied Mrs. Storey; "and there

is the smoke of their cookery, you see."

The thin blue smoke was curling up around the trunk of a tree, in the

hollow formed by whose roots was kindled the fire, which Trinity now

hastened to feed with sticks from the hedges. She peeped into the pot,

which steamed from under the three poles that supported it, and

proceeded to stir the mess with a forked stick, affording glimpses to

her visiters of a sort of meat whose shape and colour were new to them.

On their inquiring what the stew was made of, Trinity pointed to a skin

which lay in the ditch, and which was undeniably that of a brown dog.

Matilda expressed her horror, and the child looked up surprised,

observing,

"Baba says the same hand made the dog and the sheep."

"Who is Baba?"

"Her father," replied Elizabeth. "Baba means Father. Where did you get

this dog, Trinity? I hope it is not stolen."

Trinity believed Uriah had found it under the hedge. She took up the

head, which was left with the skin, and showed by the teeth that the

animal must have been very old.

"Dear me! I suppose you pick up all the dead animals that lie about the

country," cried Elizabeth.

"Bebee says that beasts that have died by the hand of God are better

than those that have died by the hand of man," replied Trinity.

A low moan issued from the tent at this moment, which seemed to strike

the child with surprise and terror: she sprang upon her feet, and looked

eagerly towards the curtain which hung over the entrance, but did not

venture to go in. When Matilda inquired if any one within was sick, the

girl shook her head, replying,

"No sickness, but there must be death. That is the death moan."

Mrs. Storey instantly proceeded to the tent, thinking that assistance

might be wanted; and, lifting up the awning, she saw Mrs. Draper

standing beside the body of a very old woman, which was propped up in a

sitting posture, and composed in attitude and countenance. Mrs. Draper's

countenance was also calm, as she folded her arms in her red cloak, and

rocked herself backwards and forwards, giving the death moan at

intervals. After a certain number of repetitions, she turned to the

ladies, and, in a voice of indifference, asked their business, glancing

with a smile towards their palms. Elizabeth did not seem to share

Matilda's surprise at this transition from one mood to another, but

returned Mrs. Draper's smile, not ungloving her hand, but pointing out

divers blemishes in the gloves she wore, and remarking,

"What shocking gloves these are! I used to get beauties of gloves at

Brighton. I wish I could get such here."

"We are only carriers," observed the gipsy. "You must walk a mile

eastward to find a batman's wife."

And she pointed significantly in the direction of Alexander's cottage.

Elizabeth insinuated that carriers might be paid for their services in

goods as well as the bat or bludgeon men, whose office it was to fight

the battles of the smugglers while contraband goods were being landed

and distributed. It appeared, however, that the gipsies preferred having

their pay in money to loading themselves with more incumbrances than

were necessary. It was plain that Elizabeth must apply elsewhere for

gloves.

Matilda was meanwhile trying to tempt Trinity into the abode, in order

to learn from her some particulars about the deceased, whose departure

seemed to be borne by Mrs. Draper with such extraordinary composure: but

Trinity still shrank from the sight of the dead, though willing enough

to tell all she knew of her. She could only relate that this woman had

been with the gang as long as Trinity could remember anything; that she

had been blind all that time; and had been carried from place to place

on a donkey, which was always led by the most careful person in the

company. She had outlived all her relations, and had been tended by the

Faas and Drapers only because there was no one else to take care of her.

All her days had been spent in wandering, Trinity believed, as she had

heard her say that it was seventy years since she had slept in a bed. It

did not appear that her death had been immediately expected, as the men

of the gang who were engaged as carriers, the preceding night, were gone

to Brighton, and some other places a little way up the country; and when

Trinity went to school that morning, she had left the old dame making

cabbage nets, as usual. Mrs. Draper here took up an unfinished net, and

said that it had dropped from the hands of the old woman half an hour

before, when the fainting fit came on in which she had died. It was

rather a pity, Mrs. Draper observed, that the departure had been so

sudden, as the wake of the first night could scarcely be as honourable

as they could wish. They must do their best to collect a multitude of

mourners by the second night. Meanwhile, Trinity must summon as many of

the tribe as were within reach; and if the ladies would please to walk

out of the tent, she would fasten down the curtain so that nobody could

get in, and set the dog to watch while she went her ways.

It struck Matilda as rather strange to leave the body unguarded by human

care at midday, in order to provide for its being watched at night by

ten times as many persons as were necessary. There was nothing to be

done, however, but to obey the gipsy's desire, as it was plain that the

greatest offence that could be offered would be to propose to touch or

to remain near the body.

As they bent their heads under the low hoop which supported the curtain

at the entrance, Elizabeth foolishly remarked that it was very well the

poor soul had not had a long illness in such a comfortless place.

"You that live in ceiled houses," replied Mrs. Draper, haughtily, "dwell

as your fathers dwelt. So do we."

"But being ill and dying,--that is so different!"

"If we are content to die as our fathers died, who forbids?" persisted

the gipsy, in a tone which silenced the objector. Mrs. Draper slightly

returned the farewell of her visiters, and stood watching them till they

were nearly out of sight, when she fastened the dog to one of the hoops

of the tent, took off the stew, threw water on the fire, and climbed the

bank, in order to pursue her way over the down in an opposite direction

from that along which Trinity was tripping.

Very different was the picture presented by the domestic establishment

of the Alexanders, whom Elizabeth would not be restrained from visiting,

in search of gloves, and with the hope of seeing many things besides

which might delight her eyes, if her purse would not extend to the

purchase of them. Matilda positively refused to accompany her, and

walked on to pay a visit to her mother-in-law.

Mrs. Alexander was engaged with her young folks in tying the claws of

the lobsters which had been caught that morning; a work requiring some

dexterity, and assisted with some fear by the children, who were apt to

start and let go at the critical moment, if the creature showed any

disposition to friskiness. A technical question or two from Elizabeth

sufficed to induce Mrs. Alexander to quit her task, wash her hands, and

show her visiter into a light closet at the back of the cottage, where

she promised to join her in a few minutes. Where she went Elizabeth had

no idea; but she returned in ten minutes with an apron full of

mysteries, and followed by two of her boys, bearing between them a

package which was almost too large to be brought in at the narrow door.

A girl was already seated on the outer door-sill, to give notice of the

approach of any spy; and the eldest boy was directed to keep guard at

the entrance of the closet, while apparently busy in carving his wooden

boat of three inches long.

Mrs. Alexander intimated that besides gloves, she had an unusual choice

of cambrics and silks, and a few pieces of valuable lace, out of which

the lady might suit herself, if she chose, before the goods were sent up

the country, as they were to be without delay. Elizabeth would not

promise to buy, but, of course, accepted the invitation to examine; and

then what tempting treasures were spread before her eyes!

"O lovely!" she cried. "What a colour! I wonder whether it would wear

well. So delicate! so rich! There is nothing like those French for

colours."

Mrs. Alexander, as in gratitude bound, joined in lauding the Lyons

manufacturers, and their dyers.

"The hue is most beautiful, to be sure, but the fabric of this is

better;--and this,--and this," she continued, applying the scientific

touch to each in turn. "It seems to me that all the pieces of that one

pattern,--the olive green, and the blue, and the violet,--are of a

poorer fabric than the rest. But the figure is completely French, to be

sure."

Mrs. Alexander observed that the Brighton ladies, and some at Hastings,

had taken a great fancy to that particular pattern; and it was selling

rapidly at some of the principal shops.

"Well, now, if I had seen those pieces at a shop,--if I had met with

them anywhere but here, I should have pronounced them English. It is

very odd that all of that one figure should have less substance than the

others. Did they come over as part of the same cargo?"

"Stowed cheek-by-jowl in the hold of the lugger that was but six hours

out of sight," Mrs. Alexander declared.

"I suppose they have been only just landed," observed Elizabeth, "for

you would not keep such a stock as this by you, with so many enemies

about. I wonder you are not afraid."

"It is only for a few hours, ma'am; just till the carriers come back

from their present errand. I do not sell in any but a chance way, as you

know, ma'am; and----"

"I always supposed your husband had been a batman, and I am told the

batmen are often paid in goods," interrupted Elizabeth.

"In part, ma'am; but the greater portion of what is before you is here

only on trust. We take care to keep them out of sight of the few whose

business it is to ruin the coast; but, for that matter, the hands that

served to land and stow ten times as much as all this, are enough to

defend what is left. But the carriers will be back soon, and then----"

"And then they will have something else to do than to set off for

Brighton again immediately,--if you mean the gipsies." And Elizabeth

explained that they would have to attend the wake of the old woman, for

two or three nights together.

This was such important news that Mrs. Alexander instantly sent one of

the children in search of his father, and seemed now careless as to

whether her visiter made a purchase or not. After selecting a package of

gloves which was too large for her pocket, and was therefore to be left

behind till a favourable opportunity should occur of conveying them

unseen, Elizabeth detained a two-inch pattern of the silk whose figure

she most admired, and which was somewhat cheaper than the rest, from the

inferiority of its quality. She must consult her mother, she declared,

and should probably send an order for a quantity sufficient for two or

three dresses. Her desire to obtain some of the benefits of this

importation was enhanced by the woman's apparent indifference as to

whether she indulged in a purchase. She resolved to make all speed

homewards, and to persuade her mother, and, if possible, Matilda, to

seize the opportunity of decking themselves in contraband fabrics.

She was not destined to arrive at home so soon as she imagined. Instead

of Elizabeth, appeared a neighbour's child, breathless and excited, to

request Matilda's immediate presence at a well-known house on the beach,

and to urge the Lieutenant being sent for with all speed. It was plain

that Elizabeth had been stopped by the Coast Guard, and conveyed by them

to the house of the dame appointed to search all women who were

suspected of having smuggled goods concealed about them. This was an act

of audacity on the part of the guard that Matilda could not have

anticipated, or she would have used more urgent persuasions with her

sister-in-law against connecting herself in any way with the secret

proceedings of the people about her. She was little aware that the

adventure arose out of the reprobation of Brady's punishment of the

gipsy-boy, which she and Elizabeth had testified the day before.

Brady had seen Miss Storey enter the suspected house of Alexander; he

had remarked signs of movement within and about it during her stay; and

had watched her leaving it with a hurried step on the way home. Brady

did not see why a lady should make a mockery of his office any more than

a poor woman, to whom the temptation was greater; and he was quite

disposed to use his authority against one who had blamed him when he

could not defend himself, and exposed him to be mobbed. He therefore

planted himself directly in her path, on the beach, and requested her to

deliver up the contraband articles which she was carrying about her.

The consciousness of what had just passed at Mrs. Alexander's deprived

Elizabeth of the sense of innocence, and of that appearance of it which

she might have justified by the fact that she had no smuggled goods

about her person. She instantly thought of the pattern of silk, and

tried to hide it, in a way which confirmed the suspicions of the foe.

There was nothing for it but to go to the place appointed; but, on the

way, she bethought herself of sending a messenger for some of her

family. She appeared in so great tribulation when Matilda arrived, as to

leave little doubt of her being actually in the scrape; and delay or

evasion seemed therefore the best policy.

"Have you demanded to be taken before a magistrate?" asked Matilda.

"A magistrate! La, no! How dreadful to think of going to a justice! I

dare not, I am sure. 'Tis dreadful to think of."

"Not so dreadful as to put up with such a piece of audacity as this. If

I were you, I would give these people as much trouble as possible in the

business they have brought upon themselves, and make them heartily sick

of it before they have done."

"Better not make such a fuss, and expose one's-self before all the folks

on the way: better take it quietly," said the search-woman, holding open

the door of the inner room appointed for the process. Elizabeth peeped

into the room, and then looked at Matilda in restless dismay, declaring

that she had nothing about her that she would not have produced in a

moment to the guard, if he had asked her quietly, instead of bringing

half the population about her heels.

"Then go to the magistrate, and tell him so," said Mrs. Storey,

authoritatively. "It is a privilege which the law allows you; and an

innocent person does wrong in not claiming it."

Elizabeth could not bring herself thus to oblige Brady to declare what

reasons he had to suspect her. She doubted and hesitated, till her foes

could and would wait no longer. She was searched, and nothing found,

except, at the last moment, the pattern of silk, squeezed up in her

glove. This discovery was very discomfiting to the ladies, and was made

the most of by Brady, who held it up in the face of the Lieutenant, when

that gentleman arrived, breathless, to ascertain what disaster had

befallen the ladies of his family.

"What! is that all you have got? I wish you joy of your share of the

seizure," said he to Brady, pushing his hand aside. "I hope you will

make more sure of your game the next time you abuse your duty to insult

a lady."

Brady said he should discharge his office, let who would be the

sufferer; and added, that he held in his hand what was a sufficient

justification. He then proceeded to deposit the two inches of silk

carefully in his tobacco-box.

"Let me look at it," demanded the Lieutenant. Brady glanced towards the

fire, as if fearing that that was destined to be the next place of

deposit for his precious snip. The Lieutenant laughed contemptuously,

and walked to the farthest possible distance from the fire, still

holding out his hand for the pattern.

"Why, man," said the officer, "you had better make haste to qualify

yourself a little better for your business, or you will make yourself

the laughing-stock of the place. This silk is no more French than your

coat is Chinese. Here, take it back, and ask any knowing person you

please, and you will find this was woven in Spitalfields or at

Macclesfield."

Brady muttered something about "humbug;" and the search-woman became

extremely anxious to explain that it was no part of her business to

choose her victims: she had only to discharge her duty upon all who were

brought to her. The Lieutenant silenced her by pushing past her, with

his wife and sister on each arm. The little crowd opened before them as

they re-issued from the house, and closed again round Brady, to learn

the result of his loyal enterprise. He was in too thorough an ill-humour

to give them any satisfaction, anticipating (what, in fact, proved his

fate) that he should be twitted with this deed for months to come, by

every man, woman, and child who did not bear a due patriotic affection

towards the Preventive Service.

The officer did not speak till it was time to deposit his sister at her

own door.

"Now, Elizabeth," said he, "I hope this will prove a lesson to you. You

and my mother came to live here on my account, and on my account you

must go away again, unless you can bring your practices into agreement

with my duties. It is a lucky chance for you that that rag is of English

make, or----"

"Oh, brother! do you really think it is not a French silk?"

"To be sure, or I should not have said so," replied the Lieutenant, with

much displeasure in his tone. "If I chose to tell lies to screen you,

you might stay here, following your own fancies, till doomsday. It is

because I always will speak the truth about those who belong to me that

I request you to go away, if you must do things which make the truth

painful for you to hear and for me to tell."

"Well, my good sir, do not be in a passion. I only thought you were

telling a convenient fib, such as everybody tells about such matters, in

the Custom-house and out of it."

"Not everybody, as you now find," replied the officer; "and I hope this

is the last time you will expose me to the suspicion of fibbing in your

behalf."

Matilda half withdrew her arm from her husband's, terrified at a mode

and strength of rebuke which would have almost annihilated her; but

Elizabeth bore it with wonderful indifference, wishing him good morning,

as on ordinary days.

"She is a good creature," the Lieutenant observed, in his customary

phrase, after walking on a few paces in silence. "She is a good

creature, but monstrously provoking sometimes. A pretty scrape she had

nearly got herself and all of us into."

"Remember how lately it was that you were defending the desire for

foreign commodities in general, and Elizabeth's in particular," observed

Matilda.

"Well! all that I said was very true, I believe," replied the officer,

half laughing under a sense of his own inconsistency. "I have as firm a

faith as ever in the truth of what I then said."

"Your doctrine, then, is, that Elizabeth is right in having the desire,

and in gratifying it; but that she is wrong in being caught in the

fact."

"Why, it does come pretty nearly to that, I am afraid. It comes to the

fact that duties clash in a case like this; so that, one's conscience

being at fault, an appeal to the law must settle the matter. I see no

crime in Elizabeth's taste, apart from the means she may take to gratify

it; but the law pronounces her wrong, so we must conclude she is wrong."

"Duties do, indeed, clash," replied Matilda; "and if so painfully in one

case, what must be the extent of the evil if we consider all who are

concerned? Even in this little neighbourhood, here is Mr. Pim unable to

teach honour, as he says, without giving the notion that it is a merit

to conceal fraud, and pointing out a whole class as objects of contempt

and hatred. The dwellers near, almost to a man, look upon the government

as a tyrant, its servants as oppressors, its laws as made to be evaded,

and its powers defied. Oaths are regarded as mere humbug; and the

kindliest of social feelings are nourished in direct relation to fraud,

and pleaded as its sanction. There is not a man near us who does not

feel it necessary, nor a woman who does not praise it as virtuous, nor a

child who is not trained up in the love and practice of it. This is the

morality which one institution teaches from village to village all along

our shores,--mocking the clergyman, setting at nought the schoolmaster,

and raising up a host of enemies to the government by which it is

maintained; and all for what?"

"To help us in our national money matters, in which, in truth, it does

not very well succeed," observed the Lieutenant.

"And to protect the interests of certain classes of its subjects,"

replied Matilda, "in which, if most people say true, they succeed as

little."

"Spitalfields is in a worse state than ever," observed the Lieutenant;

"and there are terrible complaints from our glovers and our

lace-makers."

"And if not," continued Matilda--"if protection availed to these people,

the case would be very little better than it is now. Money prosperity is

desirable only as it is necessary to some higher good,--to good morals

and happiness; and if it were, in fact, secured to our glovers, and

silkmen, and lace-makers, it would be purchased far too dear at the

expense of the morals of such a multitude as are corrupted by our

restrictive laws. There can be nothing in the nature of things to make

the vexation and demoralization of some thousands necessary to the

prosperity of other thousands. Providence cannot have appointed to

governments such a choice of evils as this; and----"

"And you, my dear, for your share, will therefore withhold your

allegiance from a government which attempts to institute such an

opposition."

"It is rather too late an age of the world for me to turn rebel on that

ground," replied Matilda, smiling. "Such governments as we were speaking

of are dead and gone, long ago. Our government is not granting any new

protections or prohibitions, surely!"

"But I thought you would quarrel with it for not taking away those which

exist. I thought you would give it your best blessing if they sent an

order to all us Preventive people to vacate our station-houses and march

off."

"I certainly felt more disaffected to-day than ever in my life before,"

observed Matilda. "To think that, in a country like this, anybody may be

stopped and searched upon mere suspicion!"

"With the privilege of demanding the decision of a magistrate,

remember."

"Which magistrate may order the search, if he finds sufficient ground of

suspicion. And this outrage is to take place as a very small part of the

machinery for protecting the interests of certain classes, to the great

injury of all the rest; and especially, as many of themselves say, to

their own. It makes one indignant to think of it."

"It is the law, my love; and while it exists, it must be obeyed. I must

order my men to stop you, if you should chance to sympathize in

Elizabeth's tastes. Hey, Matilda?"

"Do, by all means, when you find me smuggling; but perhaps my share of

the temptation may soon be at an end. I trust all this distress that you

speak of will end in bringing into an active competition with foreigners

those of our people who are now sitting with their hands before them,

perceiving how the gentry of England are apparelled in smuggled goods.

No fear for our occupation, you know. There will still be brandy and

tobacco, on which, as we do not grow them ourselves, government will

call for so high a duty as will encourage smuggling. No prospect of your

being useless yet a while."

"Nor of our neighbours being as loyal as you would have them."

"Nor of their living at peace, and in frank honesty."

"Nor of Pim's making his scholars moral."

"Nor of our manufacturers having fair play."

"Nor of the same justice being done to the revenue. Alas! how far we are

from perfection!"

"Yet ever tending towards it. Unless we believe this, what do we mean by

believing in a Providence? since all evidence goes to prove that its

rule is infinite progression. Yes, we are tending upwards, though

slowly; and we shall find, when we arrive in sight of comparative

perfection, that a system of restriction which debases and otherwise

injures all parties concerned, is perfectly inconsistent with good

government."

"Then shall I have earned my dinner in some other, and, I trust, a

pleasanter, way than to-day," observed the Lieutenant. "I shall never

get reconciled to my office, Matilda, especially while I hear of brother

officers abroad----"

"Oh! you are dreading your patrol to-night, because it is beginning to

snow," said Matilda, smiling. "You shall go in, and fortify yourself

with some duty-paid brandy and untaxed water; and then, if you will let

me go with you again, we will defy the smugglers as manfully as if they

were to be the enemies of good order for evermore."

"You shall not go out in the dark again, my love. It took all my

manfulness from me to see you so near the edge of the cliff in a wind

which might drive you out as if you were a sea-gull. The place looks

scarcely fit for you on the brightest of days; you have no chance out of

doors on a gusty night."

CHAPTER VI.

A NIGHT WATCH.

The night of the gipsy late-wake was one of the clearest and coldest

moonlight. Such a night,--when the smallest skiff showed black on the

glistening sea, and every sailing bird cast its shadow on the chalky

cliff, and each stationary figure on the heights exhibited a hard

outline against the sky,--was little fit for smuggling adventure; yet

the officers of the Coast Guard had a strong impression that a landing

of contraband goods was to be attempted, in defiance of the lady moon,

and of the watchers who "blessed her useful light." A gipsy festival

afforded an excellent pretence for collecting the country people in

sufficient force to brave the guard; and it was suspected that the

people themselves thought so, as tidings of the festival were most

industriously spread through all the country, and certainly very eagerly

received. Lieutenant Storey held consultations with his brother officers

at all the stations near; and every precaution was taken to enable a

great force to assemble with speed at the points where it seemed pretty

certain that a landing would be attempted. One or two trusty men were

sent to overlook the wake from a height, that they might report the

numbers and apparent disposition of the people; and Lieutenant Storey

visited these men on their posts soon after the beginning of the

ceremony.

"Well! what news?" said Matilda, anxiously, as the Lieutenant entered

the room where his wife, mother, and sister were waiting supper for him.

"Why, it is a fine freezing night," he replied, rubbing his hands, and

accepting the seat which was offered him close by the blazing fire. "So

you have Elizabeth to keep you company, as I advised you. That is very

well, as I rather think you will not be persuaded to go to bed till

late. And you, too, mother! Who would have thought of your climbing up

to us so late in the day?"

"But the gipsies!" cried the ladies. "Did you see the wake?"

"I heard more than I saw of it; for the banks are so high that one could

only catch a glimpse of a few heads now and then. But there was a strong

glare from their torches, there being little moonlight, I suppose, in

the hollow way: and their noise is really inconceivable. Such yelling

and howling, and what I suppose they call singing! They will wake up all

the sheep in the pens for a mile round."

"I am afraid there are a great many collected," observed Matilda.

"I should think there must be, for I never heard any gabble or din to

compare with it, except when the wind and the sails are wrangling in a

storm at sea. But come, let us have supper. I must be gone again

presently; and this is not an air to take away one's appetite."

His mother inquired whether they could learn anything of the progress of

events by looking out of the windows, or whether they must wait for news

till his return. He replied,

"You will see nothing by going to the window but as fine a moonlight sea

as ever you saw; and the light-house, and perhaps poor Nicholas staring

about him, as he is bound to do. If there is any affray, it will be far

out of your sight. We keep our eyes upon Birling and Crowlink Gap.

Either of them is an easy place of rendezvous from the wake. You will be

as still as death here, and I advise you all to go to sleep till I knock

you up to let me in."

The mother and sister wondered what he thought they could be made of to

go to bed at such a time. Matilda piled fresh logs on the fire, and

looked to see that the lamp was trimmed.

"I'll tell you what,--I'll desire Nicholas to come, from time to time,

to tell you whether he hears or sees anything or nothing," said the

Lieutenant. "I have put him on the nearest beat, where I am pretty sure

of his having nothing to do; and he can just step to the gate, if you

like to be at the trouble of hearing that he has nothing to tell."

"Do be less presumptuous, my dear son," said Mrs. Storey. "How dare you

make sure of nothing happening?"

"It was only a hasty word, mother. I have not been presumptuous in

reality, as you would say if you saw how completely we are prepared.

More ale, if you please, Elizabeth. And now, I must not stay any longer.

I shall be sure to tell Nicholas: but you will not detain him from his

post."

Matilda ran out before him to have his parting kiss at the gate, and to

watch him out of sight. The full light from the beacon turned at the

moment upon her face, stronger than the moonlight, and showed that tears

were upon her cheek.

"I cannot scold you, love," said her husband, as he wiped them away. "I

do pity you women that have to sit waiting at home when anything is to

happen. I could fancy myself crying like a baby if I were obliged to do

so. But go in now, there's a good girl."

"The moment you are out of sight. I suppose you really cannot tell,--you

cannot even tell _me_,--when you are likely to be home again."

"Impossible. It may be two hours, or it may be twelve."

Matilda had only to pray that it might be two, while she watched her

husband on his way to Nicholas's beat, where he stopped to speak with

the figure perched upon the brow of the cliff. Presently the figure

might be seen to touch its hat; the Lieutenant waved his hand towards

the station-house, and speedily disappeared, leaving Matilda to re-enter

the parlour, whose clear fire, double windows, and listed doors she

would willingly have exchanged for the biting air on Hotcombe Flat, by

her husband's side.

During the hour which elapsed before Nicholas lifted the latch of the

gate, whose welcome slick brought all the ladies to the door, Matilda

had wished twenty times that she was alone. Elizabeth was full of

groundless fears of her own devising, while she ridiculed those of other

people; and Mrs. Storey gave a lecture on patience every time Matilda

moved on her chair, looking up in her face with all possible anxiety,

however, at each return from an excursion to the upper windows. The

methodical Nicholas was more tiresome still. He began with an

explanation of what his orders were about giving intelligence to the

ladies, and of his purpose in now appearing before them. He proceeded

with an account of where he had stood, and how he had looked round and

listened, and what he had been thinking about; and it was only at the

last that it came out that he had seen and heard nothing particular.

"And do you think you could hear a pistol-shot from Birling Gap, or from

so far as Crowlink Gap?"

Nicholas could not answer for it, having never heard a pistol fired from

either place while on duty on his present beat; but he soon recollected

that his officer had told him that it was a very calm night, and that he

could certainly be able to hear the sound in question from the farthest

of the Seven Sisters; and therefore Nicholas fully believed that he

should hear a pistol as soon as fired.

"Very well," said Matilda, venturing upon such a breach of discipline as

handing him a glass of ale. "Now we will not detain you: we were desired

not; but come again in an hour, and sooner, if anything happens."

Nicholas's heart, which was always warm towards the lady, was rarefied

by the honours and benefits of this night. To be appointed, in some

sort, her special servant,--to be treated with kind words from her lips,

and with ale from her own hands,--was enough, in combination with the

ale itself, to raise his spirits to the highest pitch of which, as a

sober man, he was capable. He could scarcely refrain from whistling as

he went back to his beat, and was actually guilty of humming "Rules

Britannia," as he flung himself down in a sort of niche on the very brow

of the dizzy cliff, whence he was wont to gaze abroad over the expanse.

"'Rule, Britannia!'--Ay, that lady is worth a thousand of the bigger and

smarter one, and the old one too, if a poor man may think

so.--'Britannia rule the waves.'--Hoy, hoy! where did this sloop come

from, that I did not see her before? She's waiting for an early cargo of

chalk, I'll be bound; but it is odd I did not see her before, only that

she lies so close under, one could not see without looking over. 'And

come again in an hour,' says she, 'or sooner, if anything happens.' I

wonder how the hour goes.--'Britons never shall be slaves!'--If I had my

mother's old watch, now! Bless her! she's now asleep, I suppose, in the

bed with the green checked curtains. She says she thinks of me in her

prayers, and has all the sea before her as she goes to sleep, and me

marching above it, helping to guard the nation.--'Britannia rule the

waves!'--It is only a fair turn for me to think of her when she is

asleep, as I hope she is now. Lord! how she used to beat me! and all, as

she says now, for tenderness, to make a great man of me. To be sure, I

never guessed it at the time.--'Britons never shall be slaves! Never!

never!' I don't know that I had not best walk; it is so different

sitting here from what it is when the sun is out, platting straw for my

hat. It is time I had a new hat; I thought I saw the lady glancing at

it. Think of her taking notice of such little things! Kind heart! 'Come

again within the hour,' says she, 'and sooner, if anything happens.'

That's she looking out, I warrant, where there is a little bit of light

from the window. There! 'tis gone. 'Tis the will of Providence that she

should notice me so. I wish she knew how my mother thinks of me: but

that is no doing of mine, either; it is the will of Providence too; and

I doubt whether anybody is so happy as, by the will of Providence, I am,

with my mother, and the people here all so harmless to me, and the lady!

And it is something to see such a bright sea as this, so like what I saw

in the show-box at Weyhill fair, when my mother treated me, then a young

boy. I am sure everybody is wonderfully kind to me. I wonder how the

hour goes. It is bitter cold, to be sure; and I think yon bit of shelter

is best, after all.--'Britons never, ne--ver----'"

And Nicholas once more crouched in his recess, where he rocked himself

to the music of the waves, and looked in vain over the wide expanse for

the smallest dark speck, in watching which he might find occupation. He

soon found that his observation would have been better bestowed nearer

home. While walking, he had disdained the well-worn path along the chalk

line, strewed within a few feet of the verge for the guidance of the

watchers on dark nights. As it was light enough for safety, he availed

himself of the opportunity of varying his beat, and trod the less bare

path from the chalk line to the very edge of the cliff. He had looked

straight before him, whether his back was turned north or south, giving

no attention to the right hand or the left. He had also been too hasty

in his conclusion that the vessel which lay below, in the deep, broad

shadow of the cliffs, was a chalk sloop, waiting for the tide.

By leaning forwards a little, any one in Nicholas's present seat could

command a view of a winding and perilous, almost perpendicular, track,

which ascended from the spot where the gipsies had assisted at the last

unloading of a smuggling vessel. Something like rude steps occurred at

small intervals in this track; but they were so imperfect, and it was so

steep, that the assistance of either ropes or mutual support was

necessary to those who would mount, with or without a load on their

shoulders. As the tide had till now been too high to permit access to

this spot by the beach, it was one of the last in which Nicholas could

have expected to see foes. For want of something to do, he picked two or

three flints out of a layer which was bedded in the chalk within reach,

and amused himself with sending them down the steep, in order to watch

what course they would take. Leaning over, to follow with his eye the

vagaries of one of these, his ear was struck by a bumping, dead sound,

which could not be caused by his flint. Looking a little to the right,

without drawing back, he perceived something moving in the shadowy

track. But for the sound which had excited his suspicions, he would have

concluded that some cliff-raven or sea-bird had been disturbed in its

hole, and he watched intently for a few seconds to discover whether this

was not the case; but it soon became evident to his sharpened sight that

there was a line of men laboriously climbing the track, each with his

two small tubs braced upon his shoulders. Whether they had a strong rope

by which each might help himself, or whether each supported the one

above him, could not be discovered from the distance at which Nicholas

sat; nor could he guess whether they were aware of his being so near.

He started up, and stood in the broad moonlight, fumbling for his

pistol, which was not quite so ready to his hand as it ought to have

been. A subdued cry spread up and down, from mouth to mouth, among his

foes, a large body of whom appeared instantly on the ridge, from the

hollow where they had collected unobserved. One of them cried,--

"Hand over your pistol, lad, and sit down quietly where you were, and we

will do you no harm."

To do anything but what his officer had desired was, however, too

confusing to Nicholas's faculties to be borne. The order to fire as soon

as smugglers were perceived came upon his mind, as if spoken at the

moment in the Lieutenant's own voice, and saved him the trouble of all

internal conflict. He fired, and was instantly fired upon in turn, and

wounded. As he staggered far enough back from the verge to fall on safe

ground, he had the consolation of hearing (after the cloud of flapping

sea-birds had taken themselves far out to sea) a repetition of shots

along the cliffs on either hand, fainter and shorter in the increasing

distance. The ominous roll of the drum,--the most warlike signal of the

smugglers,--was next heard from the hollow to the right, and more

sea-birds fluttered and screamed. Silence was gone; the alarm was given;

and poor Nicholas need not resist the welcome faintness that stretched

him on the grass.

The smugglers, annoyed by former repeated failures in their attempts to

intimidate or gain over the Preventive watch, were now exasperated by

Nicholas's unflinching discharge of his duty; and they determined to

make an example of him, even in the midst of their preparations to

resist the force which they knew to be on the way to attack them. The

first necessary precaution was to range the batmen who had been

collected by the sound of the drum, in two rows, from the vessel to the

foot of the cliff, and again from the verge of the cliffs to where the

carts were stationed, surrounded with guards. This being done, their

pieces loaded, and their bludgeons shouldered, a small party was

detached to take possession of the wounded man. On raising him, it was

found that he was not dead, and that it was by no means certain that his

wounds were mortal. When he recovered his senses, he felt himself lifted

from the ground by a rope tied round his middle, and immediately after

was being lowered over the edge of the precipice, carefully protected

from being dashed against the face of the cliff by the men who stood at

regular distances down the track, and who handed him from one to the

other till he reached the bottom, where two stout men received him, and

supported him on either side to a little distance along the shingle.

"What are you going to do with me?" he faintly asked; but they made no

answer.

"For God's sake spare my life!"

"Too late for that, lad," replied one.

"No, not too late," said Nicholas, with renewed hope. "I don't think you

have killed me. I shall get well, if you will let me go."

"Too late, lad. You should not have fired."

"You are going to murder me then," groaned the victim, sinking down upon

a large stone where he had often leaned before, it being the one from

which he was wont to look out to sea. "I did not expect it of you, for

your people have always behaved very well to me. Everybody has been kind

to me," he continued, his dying thoughts getting into the train which

the spot suggested. "But, if you will do me one more kindness, do, some

of you, tell the lady at the station why I could not come as she bade

me. 'Come within the hour,' says she----"

He stopped short on hearing two pistols cocked successively. No duty to

be done under orders being immediately present to his mind, a paroxysm

of terror seized him. He implored mercy for his mother's sake, and, with

the words upon his lips, sank dead before the balls were lodged in his

body as in a mark.

The proceeding was witnessed by some of his comrades, and by his

officer, from the top of the cliff; and fierce were the cries and

numerous were the shots which followed the murderous party, as they

quickly took up the body, and fell back among the crowd of smugglers

within the deep shadow where they could no longer be distinguished.

The party being three hundred strong, any resistance which the

Preventive Force could offer was of little avail to check their

proceedings, as long as they were disposed to carry them on. They

persevered for some time in landing, hoisting up, and carting away their

tubs, the batmen keeping line, and frequently firing, while the carriers

passed between with their burdens. At length, a shot from one of the

guard, which took more effect than was expected, seemed to occasion some

change in their plans. They drew in their apparatus, ascended the track

in order, bearing with them the bodies of their slain or wounded

companions, and formed round the carts, in order to proceed up the

country, deserting a portion of the cargo which was left upon the shore.

The vessel, meanwhile, hoisted sail, and wore round to stand out to sea.

"Can you see how many are killed or disabled?" inquired the Lieutenant

of one of his men. "What is this they are hauling along?"

"Two bodies, sir; whether dead or not, I can't say."

"Not poor Nicholas's for one, I suppose."

"No, sir; they have both their faces blacked, I see."

"We must get Christian burial for Nicholas, if it be too late to save

him," said the Lieutenant to his men, who were boiling with rage at the

fate of their comrade.

"They have pitched him into the sea, no doubt, sir, unless they have

happened to leave him on the beach as a mockery."

The procession passed with their load, like a funeral train; and to stop

them would only have occasioned the loss of more lives. There were no

stragglers to be cut off, for they kept their corps as compact as if

they had been drilled into the service, and practised in an enemy's

country. It was, in fact, so. They had been trained to regular defiance

of laws which they had never heard spoken of but in terms of hatred; and

whenever the agents of government were around their steps, they felt

themselves in the midst of enemies.

When the smugglers had proceeded so far inland as to be out of danger,

they made a halt, and gave three cheers,--an exasperating sound to the

baffled guard.

"Let them cheer!" cried the Lieutenant, "our turn will come next. Down

to the beach, my lads, before the tide carries off what belongs to you

there. If any of you can find tracks of blood, it may not be too late

for poor Nicholas, after all. Down to the beach, and seize whatever you

can find."

He remained for a few moments on the steep, ranging the horizon with his

glass, internally cursing the rapid progress that the lugger (which few

but Nicholas would have taken for a sloop, however deep the shadow) was

making in her escape.

"The cutter always contrives to be just in the wrong place," thought he,

"or to arrive too late when called. She will come, as she did before,

full sail, as soon as the smuggler has got out of sight, and changed her

course."

On joining his men, he found they had partly recovered their spirits,

amidst the booty which lay before their eyes. Some few had given their

first attention to searching for the body of their comrade, but the

greater number were insisting on the necessity of removing the seizure

to the Custom-house, before the tide should have risen any higher. It

was already washing up so as to efface any marks of blood which might

have remained on the shingle; and it seemed most probable, in the

absence of any clue, that the body of Nicholas was being dashed in the

surf which sent its spray among those who defied its advances to the

last, before they mounted once more upon the down. They were obliged to

leave a few tubs floating, after they had secured the goods which it was

most important to keep dry. If these kegs could hold together amidst the

dashing of the waves, they would be recoverable in the morning from the

sea, as the law forbade all floating tubs to be picked up by anybody but

the Coast Guard, and the watch on the shore could keep an eye on the

observance of the law, for the short time that would be necessary.

"Brady, post off to the station-house, and let the ladies know we are

all safe but one. Stay! You will not thank me for sending you away from

your booty; and, besides, they will not believe you. I must go myself.

Halt a minute, my lads."

The officer directed his steps to the gleam which shone out through the

curtain of Matilda's window. Though he found her voiceless, and his

mother and sister in a state of restless terror, he could not stay to

revive them. The firing had seemed to them so fearful that they would

scarcely credit the testimony of their own eyes that the Lieutenant was

safe, or his assurance that only one life had been lost on the side of

the Preventive Force. He did not say whose life that was, for he knew

that there was not a man under his command whom his wife would miss more

than poor Nicholas. This painful communication he left to the morning.

With an assurance that the enemy had all marched off, and that no

dangerous duty remained, the officer entreated his family to go to rest.

It was very probable that he might not come home till daylight, and it

would now be folly to waste any more anxiety upon him.

Elizabeth thought it really would be very foolish, though she declared

she did not expect to sleep a wink for a month to come. She began her

preparations, however, by putting up her work with alacrity, and

lighting her mother to her bedroom. Matilda went also to hers, but not

to remain. As soon as all was quiet, she stole down to the fire-side,

laid wood upon the embers, put out her light, and sat down, preferring a

further watch to broken dreams. The cracking of the fuel and the ticking

of the time-piece composed her agitated thoughts; but, instead of

cheerfulness, a deep melancholy succeeded to the internal tumult of so

many hours--a melancholy which grew with that it fed on.

Matilda had not hitherto been given to deep thought, or strong feeling,

for any one but her husband; but the new influences of circumstance, of

late suspense and fear, of the hour, and of her present social

position,--all combined to stimulate her to higher reflection than, as a

light-hearted girl, she had been wont to encourage. She would fain have

known which of the men had fallen,--what home was to be made desolate by

the tidings that must soon be on their way. Were they to stun the young

wife who, like herself, had----O, no! It was too dreadful to think of!

Were they to smite the matron, who, ill her Irish cabin, daily told the

little ones around her knee tales of the brave and tender father who was

to come back and caress them one day? Were they to wither the aged

parent, who prayed for his roving son, and looked for the return of the

prodigal before he died; or the band of young kindred who watched with

longing the glory of their elder brother, and would be struck dumb at

this ignoble close of his envied service? Whoever it was, a life was

gone! And how? Men of the same country, members of the same social

state, had been made enemies by arbitrary laws. They had been trained to

deceive and to defy one another when they should have wrought, side by

side, to nourish life instead of to destroy it,--to strengthen peace

instead of inflicting woe. He who made the human heart to yearn at the

voice of kindliness, and to leap up at the tone of joy, thereby rebukes

the system which gives birth to mutual curses, and flings sorrows into

many homes;--He who gradually discloses to the roused human ear the

music of His name, does it for other purposes than to have it taken upon

human lips in mockery as a pass-word to the meanest frauds;--He who made

yon glittering sea a broad path by which his children might pass to and

fro, so that the full may bear bread to the hungry, and the skilful send

clothing to the naked, must pity the perverseness by which such mutual

aid is declined, or yielded only at the expense of crime--artificial

crime, which brings on natural, as its sure consequence;--He who

scatters his bounties over the earth with impartial hand, his snow and

sunshine, his fruits and gems;--He who lets loose his herds on the

plains of the tropics, and calls the fishy tribes into the depths of

Polar seas;--He who breathes upon the cornfields, and they wave; who

whispers among the pine-forests of the North, and they bow before

him,--thus works that men may impart and enjoy; and yet man will not

impart, and forbids his fellow-man to enjoy;--He who in still small

voice says to the Hindoo beneath the palm-tree, "Get thee a home;" who

visits the broken sleep of the toil-worn artizan to bid him get food and

rest; who comes in the chill wind to the shivering boor to warn him to

provide apparel; who scares the crouching Arab with thunders among the

caverned rocks, and the Greenlander with tempests on the icy sea, and

the African with wild beasts in the sultry night, that out of their

terror may arise mutual protection and social ease,--is daringly

gainsaid by intermeddlers, who declare that one nation shall have scanty

food, and another miserable clothing; and that a third must still find

holes in the rocks, or a refuge in the trees, because neither wood nor

iron shall be given for habitations. Shall there not come a day when the

toil-worn Briton shall complain, "I was hungry, and ye gave me no food;"

and the Pole, "I was naked, and ye clothed me not;" and the Syrian

wanderer, "I was houseless, and ye sheltered me not;" and the gem-decked

hungering savage, "I was poor and miserable, and ye visited me not, nor

let me enrich you in return?" When will men learn that the plan of

Divine Providence indicates the scheme of human providence; that man

should distribute his possessions as God scatters his gifts; that, as

man is created for kindliness and for social ease, he should be governed

so as to secure them; that, as all interests naturally harmonize under a

law of impartial love, it is an impiety to institute a law of

partiality, by which interests are arbitrarily opposed? When will men

learn that it should be with their wrought as with their natural

wealth,--that, as the air of heaven penetrates into all hidden places,

and nourishes the life of every breathing thing, all the elements of

human comfort should expand till they have reached and refreshed each

partaker of human life; that as the seeds of vegetation are borne here

and there by gales, and dropped by birds upon ridges and into hollows,

the means of enjoyment should be conveyed to places lofty or lowly in

the social scale, whence the winged messengers may return over the deep

with an equal recompense? When will governments learn that they are

responsible for every life which is sacrificed through a legislation of

partiality; whether it be of a servant of its own, murdered by

rebellious hands, or of a half-nourished babe dying on its sickly

mother's knee, or of a spirit-broken merchant, or of a worn-out artizan?

When will the people learn that, instead of acquiescing in the

imposition of oaths which they mean to break, of a watch which they

permit to be insulted and slaughtered, of a law which they bring up

their children to despise and to defy, they should demand with one voice

that freedom in the disposal of the fruits of their toil, upon which

mutual interest is a sufficient check, while it proves a more unfailing

stimulus than any arbitrary encouragement given to one application of

industry at the expense of all others? When shall we leave the natural

laws which guide human efforts as they guide the stars in their courses

to work, without attempting to mend them by our bungling art? When shall

man cease to charge upon Providence evils of his own devising, and pray

for deliverance from the crimes he himself has invented, and from the

miseries which follow in their train? We implore that there may be no

murder, and put firelocks into the hands of our smugglers. We profess

our piety, and hold the Bible to unhallowed lips in our custom-houses.

We say "Avaunt!" to all that is infernal when we bring our children to

the font, and straightway educate them to devilish subtilty and hatred.

We weekly celebrate our love for our whole race, and yet daily keep back

a portion of the universal inheritance of man. O, when will man come in

singleness of heart before his Maker, and look abroad upon His works in

the light of His countenance!

Matilda's eyes were shining tearful in the firelight when her husband

entered.

"Hey! tears, my love? I saw no tears when there was more cause,--two

hours ago."

"I had no time for them then," said Matilda, brushing them away.

"And why now? Do you dread more such nights, or are you worn out,

or----"

"No, no; it was not for myself. It was shame.--O, I am so ashamed!"

"Of me, love? Do not you like my duty? or, do I not perform it well?"

"O, no, no. I am so ashamed at the whole world, and especially at our

own nation, which thinks itself so Christian. Here we send one another

out man-hunting. We make a crime, tempt a man into it, and punish him

for it. Is this Christian?"

"It would be a disgrace to paganism."

"We are proud of being made in God's image, and we take pains to make

human governments the reverse of the Divine. How dare we ask a blessing

upon them?"

"Come, come, my good girl, you must think of something more cheerful.

The hearing of a life being lost has been too much for you. You never

were so near the scene of a murder before, I dare say."

"Never," replied Matilda, with quivering lips.

"It will not affect you so much again. You will become more used to the

circumstances of such a situation as ours. You will feel this sort of

adventure less painfully henceforward."

"But I do not wish that," was all that Matilda chose to say, lest her

sorrow should be charged upon discontent with her individual lot. She

looked out once more upon the sea, darkening as the moon went down, and

satisfied herself that the time would come for which she had been

inquiring,--when man would look above and around him, and learn of

Providence.

CHAPTER VII.

HEAR THE NEWS!

All was bustle about the nearest Custom-house when the seized vessel and

goods were expected to arrive the next morning. The magistracy in the

neighbourhood were also busy, for there seemed to be no end to the

offences against the law which had arisen out of the adventure of the

preceding night.

The first steps taken were towards the discovery of the murderer of

Nicholas; and, for this purpose, application was made to government for

aid, in the shape both of police-officers and of an offer of reward for

the disclosure of the murderers. Little was hoped from the latter

proceeding, as the smugglers were known to yield powerful protection to

each other, and to be united by a bond of honour as strongly in each

other's defence as against the law. If Nicholas's murderers were known

to every dweller along the coast, from Portsmouth to the North Foreland,

there was little probability that any one would step forward to name or

lay hands on them. But, the little that government could do,--pry about

and offer bribes, was done; and, whether or not the guilty persons might

tremble or flee, every body else laughed.

One of the gipsy band was brought up before two justices of the peace on

violent suspicion of having, after eight in the evening, and before six

in the morning, made, aided, or assisted in making, or been present at

making, a signal, by means of light, fire, flash, blaze, signal by

smoke, and so forth, through all the offences described in the

appropriate clause of that most singular statute ordained for the

prevention of smuggling. No proof could be brought, though the truth of

the charge was generally believed, and the gipsies thereby became more

popular than ever. They were dismissed, and every body laughed.

A boy was brought up, on a charge of trespass, by a farmer, who

complained that his fenced land had been entered and trampled, and his

well and bucket made use of without leave. The boy pleaded that he had

entered for the purpose of putting out a fire which he suspected to be

intended for a signal to smugglers. The justices referred to the

statute, found that "it shall be lawful," &c., to commit this kind of

trespass, and that the boy had only done his duty. And now, every body

frowned.

A woman who had been caught standing near a tub of the spirits which had

been seized, which tub was staved, was brought up on the charge of

having staved the same. The penalty was so heavy as to tempt to a vast

deal of false swearing on her behalf, by dint of which she escaped; and

her friends and neighbours laughed again. She was not the less glad of

this issue that, being a poor person, she would have been supported

while in prison by a daily allowance drawn from the pockets of the

nation.

A crew of fishermen were summoned to show cause why they should not,

according to law, pay the treble value of a floating keg of gin, which,

having bumped against their boat at sea, they had stretched out their

hands to appropriate. There was no use in denying the act, as it had

been witnessed by two keen eyes through unimpeachable glasses, from a

headland. All that the fishermen could do was to swear that they only

meant to deliver over the spirits to the Custom-house officers, and were

prevented from doing so by being arrested immediately on landing. The

magistrates considered this a very doubtful case; and, having before

their eyes the fear of the collective power of their smuggling

neighbours, gave their decision in favour of the fishermen; whereat the

informers were indignant, and the folks in waiting exulted.

All parties had by this time had enough of this ceremony; but the

justices agreed in assuring the Lieutenant, that if they chose to look

strictly into the proceedings of their neighbours, and to inflict all

the punishments ordained in the statute for all the modes of offence

specified therein, they might be constantly occupied from morning till

night; the gaols would be filled; there would be a distraint for

penalties in almost every cottage, and offenders would be nearly as

common as persons who stood above five feet in their shoes. They

entertained him with a sight of the entire statute, as he was not

acquainted with the whole; and all thought it perfectly consistent with

their exemplary loyalty to decide that it was truly an extraordinary

specimen of legislation. The justices could no more boast of the

achievements of their authority in putting down smuggling than the

officer of his efficiency in preventing it. All shook their heads,

complimented each other's exertions, and desponded about the

availableness of their own.

"What is to be done?" was the commonplace query which ensued.

"Why, you see," said one of the justices, "the prohibiting a commodity

does not take away the taste for it; and if you impose a high duty, you

only excite people to evade it, and to calculate the average rate of the

risk of detection. That being done, there will always be abundance of

speculators found to make the venture, and no lack of customers to bid

them God speed."

"Then there are two ways of demolishing the practice,--lowering the

duties, so as to remove the temptation to smuggling; and increasing the

difficulty of carrying on a contraband trade."

"I should say there is but one," replied the first speaker.

"Difficulties have been multiplied till we who have to administer the

law groan under them, and smuggling is still on the increase."

"What is government about all the time?" asked the Lieutenant. "They

must know this, and yet they let their own power be mocked, and the

interests of our manufacturers and commercial men be sacrificed."

"Of our manufacturers, but not necessarily of all our commercial men.

Contraband trade is a fine thing for certain shopkeepers; and you might

hear some curious stories below there," (nodding towards the

Custom-house,) "about certain methods of obtaining drawbacks, and then

re-landing the goods by the help of our night-working neighbours.

However, government is getting a glimpse of the true state of the case,

as we shall soon see."

"Because," observed the other magistrate, "government is beginning to

look to the right quarter for information. It is nonsense to consult

collectors of the revenue, and persons in their interest and of their

way of thinking, about the best method of rendering taxes effectual. The

only way is to contemplate the interests of the tax payers. This done,

it is easily seen that there is not much wisdom in a system, the

enforcement alone of which costs the country many hundred thousand

pounds a year."

"And which is not enforced, after all, and never can be. No, no; the

government sees now that the only way is to lower the duties down to the

point which makes contraband trading a speculation not worth

attempting."

"What makes you suppose that government views the matter in this light?"

"It is said, and confidently believed in London, that government has

taken into consideration this petition from the principal

silk-manufacturers in and about London."

The Lieutenant read the petition in the newspaper, of recent date, now

handed to him.

"Hum. 'This important manufacture, though recently considerably

extended,'--aye, so it ought to be, from the increasing number of

wearers of silk,--'is still depressed below its natural level'--they are

tired of Spitalfields subscriptions, I suppose, and of living among

starving weavers, who throw the blame of their starvation on their

masters;--'by laws which prevent it from attaining that degree of

prosperity which, under more favourable circumstances, it would

acquire.'--Well! what thinks the House of this petition?"

"That will be seen when government speaks upon it. It is thought that

the prohibition of foreign silks will be removed, and a moderate duty

substituted. If so, it will be an important experiment."

"I rather think," observed the other magistrate, "that the fault will

soon be found to be neither in the undue mildness of the law, nor in our

way of administering it,--of both which the customs and excise officers

are for ever complaining. I believe my friend here and I shall have

little less reason to bless the change than these petitioning

manufacturers."

"There will be enough left for me to do," observed the Lieutenant, "if,

as I suppose, they will leave as they are the duties on articles not

produced at home. Many a cargo of gin and tobacco will yet be landed in

my day. Meanwhile, I must go and see the unpacking at the Custom-house.

I hope I shall not be tempted to smuggle within those very walls, on my

wife's account."

When the officer arrived at the Custom-house, he found the Collector and

Comptroller invested with all the dignity of active office, and the

members of the Coast Guard who were there to claim their share of booty,

watching with eagerness for the unpacking of a large store of that

beloved weed which was wont to "cheer but not inebriate" them on their

watch. A few inquisitive neighbours were peeping in from window and

door, and Mr. Pim, admitted through favour, from his son being the

Collector's clerk, paced up and down, his countenance exhibiting a

strange alternation of mirth and vexation. He could not help enjoying

the fun of people eluding, and baffling, and thwarting one another; such

fun being one chief inducement to him to connect himself as he had done

with contraband traders; but it was a serious vexation to see some of

his property,--goods on whose safe arrival he had staked the earnings of

his irksome school-hours,--thus about to fall into the hands of those

who had paid no such dolorous price for them.

Somebody wondered that, as the smugglers had taken time to carry away so

considerable a portion of their cargo, a large package of tobacco should

have been left behind; tobacco being an exceedingly valuable article of

contraband trade, from the difference between its original cost and its

price when charged with the duty. If smugglers paid threepence a pound

for their article, and sold it at half-a-crown, it must repay their

risks better than most articles which they could import. One of the

guard believed he had seen numerous packages of tobacco on the people's

shoulders, as they passed to the carts, and supposed that the quantity

before them formed a very small portion of what had been landed.

"Most likely," observed the Collector. "There is more tobacco landed

than there is of any thing else, except brandy and geneva. It is high

time government was bestirring itself to put down the smuggling of

tobacco. Do you know, sir," (to the Lieutenant,) "these fellows supply a

fourth part of the tobacco that is consumed in England?"

"That is nothing to what they do in Ireland," observed Brady. "There

were seventy vessels in one year landing tobacco between Waterford and

Londonderry."

"Yes; the Irish are incorrigible," replied the Collector; "they smuggle

three-fourths of the tobacco they use."

The Lieutenant doubted whether they were incorrigible. Neither the

Irish, nor any body else, would think of smuggling unless they were

tempted to it. If the duty, now three shillings per pound, were reduced

to one shilling, smuggling tobacco would not answer; the sinning

three-fourths would get their tobacco honestly, and government would be

the gainer. The same advantage would arise in England from the reduction

of the duty; as, in addition to the practice of smuggling being

superseded, the consumption of the article would materially increase, as

is always the case on the reduction of a tax. With every augmentation of

the duty from eight-pence per pound to three shillings, there had been a

failure of consumption at the same time with an increase of contraband

trade; so that the revenue had suffered doubly, and to an extent far

beyond its gains from the heightening of the duty.

"What have we got here?" cried Pim, as a gay-coloured article was drawn

out from among the packages.

"Flags! Aye; these were clever fellows, and knew their business, you

see. Here are pretty imitations of navy flags, and a fine variety.

British, Dutch, French! They knew what they were about,--those fellows."

"So do you, it seems, Mr. Pim," observed the Collector. "You are as

wonderfully learned in flags as if you had taken a few trips to sea

yourself."

"I have lived on this coast for many a year, and seen most of the flags

that wave on these seas," replied Pim. "But since these flags are but

poor booty, it is a pity your men cannot catch those that hoisted them,

and so get a share of the fine."

"Suppose you put them on the right scent, Mr. Pim. I fancy you could, if

you chose."

Mr. Pim disclaimed, with all the gravity which his son's presence could

impose. A parcel of bandanas next appeared, and as the familiar red

spotted with white appeared, a smile went round the circle of those who

anticipated a share of the seizure.

"Ho, ho! I suspect I know who these belong to," observed the Collector.

"There is a gentleman now not far off on this coast who could tell us

all about them, I rather think. He has been sent for from London, under

suspicion of certain tricks about the drawback on the exportation of

silks. His shop is supplied very prettily by our smugglers, and his

connexion with them is supposed to be the inducement to him to make

large purchases at the India sales. I have no doubt he is one of those

who buy bandanas at four shillings a piece, and sell them at eight

shillings, when they have had a trip to Ostend or Guernsey. I have a

good mind to send for him."

"This is the last sort of commodities I should think it can be pleasant

to you Custom-house folks to declare forfeited," observed Pim. "Your

consciences must twinge you a little here, I should think. I don't doubt

your tobacco and your brandy being duty-paid, and all proper; but when

paying duty will not do, you will offend, just like those who are not

government servants, rather than go without what you have a mind to.

I'll lay any wager now----"

"Hold your impertinent tongue, sir," cried the Collector.

Mr. Pim obeyed, taking leave to use his hands instead. He stepped behind

the Collector, and quietly picked his pocket of a bandana: he did the

same to the Comptroller; and afterwards to all the rest, though the

land-waiter whisked away his coat-tail, and the tide-waiter got into a

corner. The only one who escaped was the clerk (Pim’s own son), and he

only because his having one round his neck made the process unnecessary.

A goodly display of bandanas,--real Indian,--now graced the counter, and

everybody joined in Pim's hearty laugh.

"Now," said he, "if you summon Breme on the suspicion of this property

being his----"

"So you know who the gentleman was that I was speaking of," cried the

Collector. "Very well. Perhaps you can tell us a little news of this

next package."

And forthwith was opened to view a beautiful assortment of figured

silks, of various colours, but all of one pattern. Mr. Pim gravely shook

his head over them.

"If you know nothing of those, I do," said Brady, taking out his

tobacco-box, and producing therefrom the snip of silk which had been

extracted from Elizabeth's glove. "'Tis the same article, you see; and

the Lieutenant here declares 'tis English."

"And so it is, and so are these," declared the Collector. "The French

would be ashamed of such a fabric as this, at the price marked, though

they might own the figure; which must be imitated from theirs, I fancy.

We had better send for Mr. Breme, and let the other Custom-house know of

this seizure. I suspect it will throw some more light on the tricks

about the drawback."

Mr. Breme was found to be nearer at hand than had been supposed. Having

failed in his speculation, through two unfortunate seizures of

contraband cargoes, he had cut but a poor figure at the larger

Custom-house, where he had just been examined, and found it necessary to

consult with his Brighton brother as to the means of getting the

threatened fine mitigated, or of paying it, if no mercy could be

obtained. He was proceeding along the coast to Brighton, when Pim, who

was aware of his movements, met him, and told him of the adventures

which had taken place at Beachy Head.

What was to be done? Should he slip past to Brighton quietly, at the

risk of being brought back in a rather disagreeable way, or should he

make his appearance at once, and brave the circumstances, before more

evidence should be gathered against him from distant quarters? The

latter measure was decided upon; and Breme, after changing his

directions to the post-boy, leaned back in his chaise to ruminate, in

anything but a merry mood, on the losses which he had sustained, was

sustaining, and must expect still further to sustain.

Breme had lately become a merchant in a small way, as well as a

shopkeeper. He had followed the example of many of his brethren in

trade, in venturing upon a proceeding of some risk, in hopes that large

profits would cover the loss of the occasional failures which he had to

expect. He had employed his Spitalfields neighbour to manufacture a

fabric in imitation of French silk, and had exported the produce as

English, receiving at the Custom-house the drawback granted to such

exportation. This drawback was the remission, or paying back, of the

duties on the article to be exported; such remission being necessary to

enable the exporter to sell his commodity in the foreign market on equal

terms with the foreign manufacturers, who were less burdened with taxes.

Breme claimed and received this drawback, he and his agents swearing, in

due form, according to the statute, that the goods were really for sale

abroad, and should not be relanded. The oath was considered merely as a

necessary form; and Breme had no notion of selling his goods in a

foreign market at a lower price than would be given for them in England,

under the supposition that they were French. Back they came, therefore;

and the government, which had paid the drawback, besides having thereby

made a very pretty present to Mr. Breme, saw an addition made to the

stock of the already overstocked market at home, while the weavers of

silk were starving, and it was charitably contributing to frequent

subscriptions for their relief. Mr. Breme was now, however, a loser in

his turn, his beautiful goods being clutched by the strong hand of the

law. In addition to this trouble, he was suffering under the prospect of

a speedy end being put to this kind of speculation.

He could not decide what line of defence to take till he reached the

Custom-house, and heard the nature and amount of the evidence that there

might be against him. When he was told that the case was to be followed

up very diligently, and exposed as a warning; that the silks were known

to be of the same kind as those for which he had had to answer in

another place; and that the manufacturer and weavers would be produced

to swear to the origin of the whole,--he offered to make oath that he

had sold the goods abroad, and that their being afterwards smuggled back

again was the act of his customers, and not his own. The Collector

congratulated him that, this being the case, he was not subjected to the

loss which some of his friends had regretted on his account. It was,

indeed, a much pleasanter thing to have sold the goods and pocketed the

money than to see such a beautiful lot of goods, prepared at so much

cost, and with so much labour and ingenuity, now lying a forfeit to the

offended British law. With a bitter sweet smile, Mr. Breme bowed in

answer to this congratulation, and changed the subject. He observed that

days of comparative leisure were apparently at hand for all the

gentlemen he saw around him. If government should carry into other

departments the changes it was about to make in the silk trade, there

would be an end of many of the little affairs with which the time of the

Custom-house officers was now so fully and disagreeably occupied.

What did he mean? Did he bring any new information?

Merely that government was about to remove the prohibition on the

importation of foreign silks, and to substitute an _ad valorem_ duty of

30 per cent.

"Bless my soul, sir! what an extraordinary thing!" cried the Collector.

"You do not mean that you are sure of the fact, sir?"

Mr. Breme had it from the best authority.

"Why 'extraordinary?'" asked the Lieutenant. "The nature of our business

this morning is proof enough that some change is necessary, is it not?"

"To be sure," replied Breme; "but the change should be all the other

way. Do you know, sir, the market is deluged already with silk goods

from the late slight mourning, and from a change of fashion since? What

are we to do, sir, when the French pour in a flood of their manufactures

upon us?"

"Our market is glutted because we can find no vent for our produce; and

I do not see how the matter could be mended by increasing the

inducements of smugglers to supply us, while our weavers are starving in

the next street. If the French silks are, on the average, 25 per cent.

cheaper than ours, a duty of 30 per cent. will leave our manufacturers a

fair chance in the competition with foreigners, and will throw the trade

of the smugglers into their hands. My only doubt is, whether the duty is

not too high,--whether there is not still some scope left to smuggling

enterprize."

"Your countrymen are much obliged to you, I am sure, sir," said Breme,

tartly. "I think government should know that some of its servants are

ill-disposed to their duty."

The Lieutenant dared the shopkeeper to say this again, in the midst of

the witnesses of what his conduct had been on the preceding night. Breme

meant only,----and so forth.

Anxious and perplexed were all the faces now, except the Lieutenant's

own. His men had only a vague idea that something was to happen to take

away their occupation, and to do a great mischief. Their officer bade

them cheer up, and told them that it was only to the article of silk

that the reported regulations would relate.

"There is no knowing that," sagely observed the Collector. "When they

begin with such innovations, there is no telling where they will leave

off. With such a fancy once in their heads, Ministers (though God forbid

I should say any evil of them!) will not stop till they have ruined the

revenue, and laid waste the country under the curse of an entirely free

trade."

"I dare say they will be wise enough to retain duties which all classes

allow to be just; and the levying of them will afford you quite

sufficient occupation, Mr. Collector, if our trade increases, as it is

likely to do under such a system," replied the Lieutenant. "This little

custom-house may no longer be wanted as a store-place for contraband

goods; but there will be all the more to do in the large ports; and

there, sir, you may find an honourable and appropriate place."

Neither the Collector nor any of his coadjutors, however, could be

consoled under the dire prospect of the total ruin of the revenue, which

was the result they chose to anticipate from the measures understood to

be now in contemplation. Their only ground of hope was, that the British

manufacturers would rise in a body to remonstrate against the sacrifice

of their interests. This, however, considering that the most eminent of

the body had already petitioned for the opening of the trade, offered a

very slender promise of consolation.

Pim had early slipped away to spread the news of the contemplated "ruin

of the coast." The tidings spread from mouth to mouth, till they filled

every cottage, and reached even the recesses where the gipsies made a

home. Draper and Faa came forth over the down to hear what the

schoolmaster had to tell, and returned thoughtful to the tent where Mrs.

Draper was looking out for them.

"Then the winters will pass over us in a ceiled house," said she, when

she had heard the news. "We must join our tribe in London from the first

autumn fog till the last spring frost."

"You and yours," said one of the men, who was weaving the rush bottom of

an old chair. "We men may work in the free air, though there will be

stones instead of turf under our feet. Many chairs to mend in London."

"But no night-play to fill the pocket and sharpen the spirits," old Faa

observed. There was nothing in cities that he liked so well as his task

of the last night,--to stand on the ridge as a watch upon the sentinel,

and stoop, or hold himself erect, according as the sentinel turned his

back or his face, that the lads in the furze might know when to creep

forward on all-fours, and when to lie still. It was far pleasanter to

see them all collected safe in the shadow of Shooter's Bottom, ready for

work or fighting, whichever might befal, than to mix in the medley of

bustling people in London streets, who were too busy in the lamplight to

heed the stars overhead, which, indeed, it took some time to make out

through such an air.

Mrs. Draper would forgive the air for the sake of the warmth and

shelter; and the children would excuse everything for the sake of being

seventy miles distant from Mr. Pim's school-room. The younger of the men

hoped that the "ruin of the coast" might be delayed beyond another

winter; that if they might no more have the pleasure of handing bales of

silk ashore during unlawful hours, tubs of spirits might yet cross the

surf between sunset and sunrise.

"The 'ruin of the coast!'" cried Elizabeth, as the words struck her ear

in passing some of the cottages. "Dear me! has anything happened to the

fish, I wonder." She soon found,--what she ought to have known

before,--that fish are not always the chief concern of fishermen on the

coasts of a land where trades are severally "protected." Let the fish

swarm in the waters as the motes in the sunbeam, and the coast may be

not the less ruined in the opinion of fishermen who grow sophisticated

under a bad law.

The wives looked melancholy, as in duty bound, at the extraordinary

cruelty of which the government was going to be guilty,--at the very

irksome caprice by which it was endeavouring to prevent itself from

being cheated, as heretofore, for the advantage of those who mocked, and

occasionally murdered, its agents. The good wives thought it very

strange of the government to interfere with their husbands. To set spies

was bad enough; but to take away their best occupation was a thing not

to be borne patiently. No wonder Ned kicked away his nets, and Jem

cursed the child, and Dick left his boat, and said he should go to the

parish, as his prime work at sea was taken from him. As for the

children, they looked as much dismayed under the shadow of evil tidings

as their mothers had done in childhood, on being told that Buonaparte

and his French were coming ashore to cut all their throats. As soon as

they dared speak, there was many a wail of "O mammy, mammy! are they

going to 'ruin the coast?'"

Elizabeth thought she would make haste to the down, and tell her sister

the dismal story. Breasting the wind as hardily as Matilda herself could

have done, she arrived at length at the station-house, unable, for some

time, to find breath for her tale. The signs of consternation below had

attracted Matilda's notice; and she, too, had dared the wind, to look

for the cause through the telescope, which was her favourite companion

when the Lieutenant was absent. Her smile at the news surprised

Elizabeth, pleased as she was with her own prospects under the new

arrangements.

"I should not have thought," she observed, "that you would care so much

about the matter. It will be very pleasant, to be sure, to have as much

French silk, without breaking the law, and being searched, and all that

kind of thing, as we like to buy; but really, if you were to see the

distress of those poor people below;--the children,----"

"Ah, the children! I am sorry for their fright; but they will soon be

comforted. For their parents my pity is at an end. Yonder are their

boats and tackle, and strong arms to use them; and there is the great

and wide sea, where they may innocently get the bread by which they

profess to live. This is better than stealing the bread from those who

have no sea at hand from whence to fetch their food. I cannot pity those

fishermen, Elizabeth: I cannot be sorry at this news. Remember, there

are places full of a woe, compared with which the vexation of the people

you pity is mirth;--chill chambers, where little ones have no heart to

play, but crowd together to keep warmth in them;--alleys, where the

wife, who is no longer wanted at her husband's loom, holds out her hand

for the alms which her brave-souled husband has not the courage to

ask;--hearths, where the mechanic sits with his arms by his side,

looking into the empty grate, and thinking of stirring times gone by.

When the wife comes in with this news, gathered from the street-talkers,

he will leap up, look to his loom, and play with his shuttle as a child

with a new toy. Hope will warm his heart from that moment,--hope will be

in his face when he hurries out to hear if the news be true,--hope will

be in his speech when he returns. These, multitudes of these sufferers,

are they whom I have pitied; and for them, therefore, you must let me

now be glad."

END OF THE FIRST PART.

--------------

W. CLOWES, Stamford-street.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

THE

LOOM AND THE LUGGER.

PART II.

=A Tale.=

BY

HARRIET MARTINEAU.

------------------

LONDON:

CHARLES FOX, 67, PATERNOSTER-ROW.

---

833.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER PAGE

1. The Coopers at Home 1

2. Matters of Taste 19

3. Chance Customers 43

4. Grief and Dancing 63

5. Hate and Hand-bills 78

6. Investigations 109

7. Prospective Brotherhood 132