“’Bout my cow,” he said.

“I have no doubt that as soon as the lieutenant in command is satisfied that you had nothing to do with the smuggling, your people will be set at liberty.”

“And the cow?”

“And the cow of course.”

“Thank ye, sir; that’s good news. I’ll go and tell the missus. Straight on, sir; you can’t miss it.”

“Ah, my fine fellow,” he continued, as he walked back, “if it hadn’t been for your gang with you, how easily I could have turned the key and kept you down in that cellar, where I wish I had your skipper too.”

“Oh, Blenheim!” said his wife, in an excited whisper, “how could you help them to go up to the Hoze? They’ll find out everything now.”

“P’r’aps not, missus. I sent ’em, because if I hadn’t they’d have found the way. We may get off yet, and if we do—well, it won’t be the first time; so, here’s to luck.”

As he spoke he opened a corner cupboard, took out a bottle of spirits which had never paid duty, poured out and drank a glass.

“Thank you,” said a gruff voice. “I think, if you don’t mind, farmer, I’ll have a little taste of that. I came back to tell you that your cider is rather harsh and hard, not to say sour, and I’m a man accustomed to rum.”

As he spoke, Gurr the master stepped into the room, took the bottle from the farmer’s hand, helped himself to a glass, and poured out and smelt the spirit.

“I say, farmer,” he said, as he tasted, “this is the right sort or the wrong sort, according to which side you are.”

“Only a little drop given me by a friend.”

“French friend, for any money,” said the master, drinking the glass. “Yes, th