Cutlass and Cudgel | Page 7

do with that wretched smuggling."
"Don't call things by ugly names."
"My good man, it is terrible. It is dishonourable, and the act is a breaking of the laws of our country."
"Tchah! Not it, Sir Risdon," cried the other so sharply, that the grey horse started forward, and had to be checked. "Not the king's laws, but the laws of that Dutchman who has come and stuck himself on the throne. Why, sir, you ought to take a pleasure in breaking his laws, after the way he has robbed you, and turned you from a real gentleman, into a poor, hard-pressed country squire, who--"
"Hush! Hush, Master Shackle!" said the tall gentleman huskily. "Don't rake up my misfortunes."
"Not I, Sir Risdon. I'm full o' sorrow and respect for a noble gentleman, who has suffered for the cause of the real king, who, when he comes, will set us all right."
"Ah, Master Shackle, I'm losing heart."
"Nay, don't do that, Sir Risdon; and as to a few mushrooms, why, you're welcome enough; and I'd often be sending a chicken or a few eggs, or a kit o' butter, or drop o' milk, all to the Hoze, only we're feared her ladyship might think it rude."
"It's--it's very good of you, Master Shackle, and I shall never be able to repay you."
"Tchah! Who wants repaying, Sir Risdon? We have plenty at the farm, and it was on'y day 'fore yes'day as I was out in my little lugger, and we'd took a lot o' mackrel! `Ram,' I says to my boy Ramillies, `think Sir Risdon would mind if I sent him a few fish up to the Hoze?'
"`Ay, father,' he says, `they don't want us to send them fish. My lady's too proud!'"
Sir Risdon sighed, and the man watched him narrowly.
"It's a pity too," the latter continued, "specially as we often have so much fish we puts it on the land."
"Er--if you would be good enough to send a little fish--of course very fresh, Master Shackle, and a few eggs, and a little butter to the Hoze, and let me have your bill by and by, I should be gratified."
"On'y too glad, Sir Risdon, I will.--Think any one's been telling tales?"
"Tales?"
"'Bout us, Sir Risdon."
"About us!"
"You see the revenue cutter's hanging about here a deal, and it looks bad."
"Surely no one would betray you, Master Shackle?"
"Hope not, Sir Risdon; but it's okkard. There's a three-masted lugger coming over from Ushant, and she may be in to-night. There's some nice thick fogs about now, and it's a quiet sea. Your cellars are quite empty, I s'pose?"
The last remark came so quickly, that the hearer started, and made no reply.
"You see, Sir Risdon, we might run the cargo, and stow it all up at my place, for we've plenty o' room; but if they got an idea of it aboard the cutter, she'd land some men somehow, and come and search me, but they wouldn't dare to come and search you. I've got a bad character, but you haven't."
"No, no, Master Shackle; I cannot; I will not."
"The lads could run it up the valley, and down into your cellar, Sir Risdon," whispered the man, as if afraid that the old grey horse would hear; "nobody would be a bit the wiser, and you'd be doing a neighbour a good turn."
"I--I cannot, Master Shackle; it is against the law."
"Dutchman's law, not the laws of Bonnie Prince Charlie. You will, Sir Risdon?"
"No--no, I dare not."
"And it gives a neighbour a chance to beg your acceptance of a little drop o' real cognac, Sir Risdon--so good in case o' sickness. And a bit of prime tay, such as would please her ladyship. Then think how pleasant a pipe is, Sir Risdon; I've got a bit o' lovely tobacco at my place, and a length or two of French silk."
"Master Shackle! Master Shackle!" cried the tall thin baronet piteously, "how can you tempt a poor suffering gentleman like this?"
"Because I want to do you a bit of good, Sir Risdon, and myself too. I tell you it's safe enough. You've only to leave your side door open, and go to bed; that's all."
"But I shall be as guilty as you."
"Guilty?" the man laughed. "I never could see a bit o' harm in doing what I do. Never feel shamed to look my boy Ramillies in the face. If a bit o' smuggling was wrong, Sir Risdon, think I'd do it? No, sir; I think o' them as was before me. My father was in Marlborough's wars, and he called me Blenheim, in honour of the battle he was in; and I called my boy Ramillies, and if ever he gets married, and has a son, he's to be Malplackey. I arn't ashamed to look him in the face."
"But I shall be afraid to look