In the Kings Name | Page 5

boat. A few strokes
took them to the dingy lugger, at whose side were gathered about a
dozen dirty-looking men and boys, for the most part in scarlet worsted
caps, blue jerseys, and stiff canvas petticoats, sewn between the legs, to
make believe they were trousers.
"Va t'en chien de Francais. Pourquoi de diable n'arretez vous pas?"
shouted the lieutenant to a yellow-looking man with whiskerless face,
and thin gold rings in his ears.
"Hey?"
"I say pourquoi n'arretez vous pas?" roared the lieutenant fiercely.
"I ar'nt a Dutchman. I don't understand. Nichts verstand," shouted the
man through his hollow hands, as if he were hailing some one a mile
away.
"You scoundrel, why didn't you say you could speak English?"
"You never arkst me," growled the man.
"Silence, sir. How dare you address an officer of a king's ship like
that!"

"Then what do you go shooting at me for? King George don't tell you
to go firin' guns at peaceable fisher folk, as me."
"Silence, sir, or I'll put you in irons, and take you on board the cutter.
Why didn't you obey my signals to heave-to?"
"Signals! I never see no signals."
"How dare you, sir! you know I fired."
"Oh, them! We thought you was practisin', and hauled down till you'd
done, for the balls was flying very near."
"Where are you from?"
"From? Nowheres. We been out all night fishing."
"What's your port?"
"Shoreham."
"And what have you on board? Who are those people?"
Those two people had been seen on the instant by Hilary Leigh, as they
sat below the half-deck of the lugger, shrinking from observation in the
semi-darkness. He had noticed that, though wearing rough canvas
covering similar to those affected by a crew in stormy weather, they
were of a different class; and as the lieutenant was in converse with the
skipper of the lugger, he climbed over the lowered sail between, and
saw that one of the two whom the other tried to screen was quite a
young girl.
It was but a momentary glance, for she hastily drew a hood over her
face, as she saw that she was noticed.
"Jacobites for a crown!" said Hilary to himself, as he saw a pair of
fierce dark eyes fixed upon him.
"Who are you?" he exclaimed.

"Hush, for heaven's sake!" was the answer whispered back; "don't you
know me, Leigh? A word from you and they will shoot me like a dog."
At the same moment there was a faint cry, and Hilary saw that the
young girl had sunk back, fainting.
CHAPTER TWO.
A STRICT SEARCH.
"Sir Henry!" ejaculated Hilary Leigh; and for the moment his heart
seemed to stand still, for his duties as a king's officer had brought him
face to face with a dear old friend, at whose house he had passed some
of his happiest days, and he knew that the disguised figure the Jacobite
gentleman sought to hide was his only daughter, Adela, Hilary's old
playmate and friend, but so grown and changed that he hardly
recognised her in the momentary glance he had of her fair young face.
"Hush! silence! Are you mad?" was the reply, in tones that set the
young man's heart beating furiously, for he knew that Sir Henry
Norland was proscribed for the part he had take in the attempt of the
Young Pretender, and Leigh had thought that he was in France.
"Who are they, Mr Leigh?" said the lieutenants striding over the lumber
in the bottom of the boat.
"Seems to be an English gentleman, sir," said Leigh, in answer to an
agonised appeal from Sir Henry's eyes.
"I am an English gentleman, sir, and this is my daughter. She is very
ill."
"Of course she is," cried the lieutenant testily. "Women are sure to be
sick if you bring them to sea. But look here, my good fellow, English
gentleman or no English gentleman, you can't deceive me. Now then,
what have you got on board?"
"Fish, I believe," said Sir Henry.

"Yes, of course," sneered the lieutenant; "and brandy, and silk, and
velvet, and lace. Now then, skipper, you are caught this time. But look
here, you scoundrel, what do you mean by pretending to be a
Frenchman?"
"Frenchman? Frenchman?" said the skipper with a look of extreme
stupidity. "You said I was a Dutchman."
"You lie, you scoundrel. Here, come forward and move that sail and
those nets. Now no nonsense; set your fellows to work."
He clapped his hand sharply on the skipper's shoulder, and turned him
round, following him forward.
"Take a man, Mr Leigh, and search that dog-hole."
Hilary Leigh was astounded, for knowing what he did he expected that
the lieutenant would have instantly divined what seemed patent to
him--that Sir Henry Norland