In the Kings Name | Page 7

which he did, not daring to glance at the passengers.
"Are you quite done, officer?" growled the skipper.
No answer was given, and as the boat reached the side of the cutter the sails of the lugger were being hoisted, and she began to move quickly through the water at once.
"Lay her head to the eastward," said the lieutenant sourly; "and look here, Leigh, don't you rouse me up again for one of your mare's nests, or it will be the--"
"Worse for you," Hilary supposed, but he did not hear the words, for the lieutenant was already down below, and the young officer took the glass and stood watching the lugger rapidly growing distant as the cutter began to feel the breeze.
A curious turmoil of thought was harassing the young man's brain, for he felt that he had been a traitor to the king, whose officer he was, and it seemed to him terrible that he should have broken his faith like this.
But at the same time he felt that he could not have done otherwise, and he stood watching the lugger, and then started, for yes--no--yes--there could be no mistake about it, a white handkerchief was being held over the side, and it was a signal of amity to him.
Quite a couple of hours had passed, and the lugger had for some time been out of sight round the headland astern, when all at once the lieutenant came on deck to where his junior was pacing up and down.
"Why, Leigh," he exclaimed, "I did not think of it then; but we ought to have detained that chasse maree."
"Indeed, sir; why?"
"Ah! of course it would not occur to you, being so young in the service; but depend upon it that fellow was a Jacobite, who had persuaded those dirty-looking scoundrels to bring him across from Saint Malo, or some other French port, and he's going to play spy and work no end of mischief. We've done wrong, Leigh, we've done wrong."
"Think so, sir?"
"Yes, I'm sure of it. I was so intent on finding smuggled goods that I didn't think of it at the time. But, there: it's too late now."
"Yes, sir," said Leigh quietly, "it's too late now."
For he knew that by that time the fugitives must be in Shoreham harbour.
CHAPTER THREE.
THE LIEUTENANT'S BARGAIN.
Three days of cruising up and down on the lookout for suspicious craft, some of which were boarded, but boarded in vain, for, however suspicious they might appear at a distance, there was nothing to warrant their being detained and taken back into port.
Hilary used to laugh to himself at the impudence of their midge of a cutter firing shots across large merchantmen, bringing them to, and making them wait while the cutter sent a boat on board for their papers to be examined.
It gradually fell to his lot to perform this duty, though if it happened to be a very large vessel Lieutenant Lipscombe would take upon himself to go on board, especially if he fancied that there would be an invitation to a well-kept cabin and a glass of wine, or perhaps a dinner, during which Hilary would be in command, and the cutter would sail on in the big ship's wake till the lieutenant thought proper to come on board.
The men sang songs and tied one another's pigtails; Hilary Leigh fished and caught mackerel, bass, pollack, and sometimes a conger eel, and for a bit of excitement a little of his majesty's powder was blazed away and a cannonball sent skipping along the surface of the water, but that was all.
Hilary used sometimes to own to himself that it was no wonder that Mr Lipscombe, who was a disappointed man, should spend much time in sleeping, and out of sheer imitation he once or twice took to having a nap himself, but twice settled that. He had too much vitality in his composition to sleep at abnormal times.
"Hang it all, Billy Waters," he said one day, after a week's sailing up and down doing nothing more exciting than chasing fishing-luggers and boarding trading brigs and schooners, "I do wish something would turn up."
"If something real don't turn up, sir," said the gunner, "I shall be certain to fire across the bows of a ship, from its always being my habit, sir, and never hit a mark when I want it."
"Here, hi! hail that fishing-boat," he said; "I've fished till I'm tired, and can't catch anything; perhaps we can get something of him."
He pointed to a little boat with a tiny sail, steered by its crew of one man by means of an oar. The boat had been hanging about for some time after pulling off from the shore, and its owner was evidently fishing, but with what result the crew of the cutter could not tell.
"He