The ways of smugglers were of course new to me; but we had several experienced hands on board, and as I zealously applied myself to the study of the art of contraband, I was not long in acquiring a competent knowledge of the traditional contrivances employed to defraud the revenue. Little of interest occurred during the first three or four weeks of my novel command, except that by the sharpened vigilance of our look-out, certain circumstances came to light, strongly indicating that Barnaby Diaper, the owner of a cutter-rigged fishing-vessel of rather large burden, living near Hamble Creek, was extensively engaged in the then profitable practice of running moonshine, demurely and industriously as, when ashore, he appeared to be ever-lastingly mending his nets, or cobbling the bottom of the smack's boat. He was a hale, wiry fellow this Barnaby--Old Barnaby, as he was familiarly called, surnames in those localities being seldom used--with a wooden stolidity of countenance which utterly defied scrutiny, if it did not silence suspicion. His son, who was a partner in the cutter, lived at Weston, a beautifully-situated hamlet between Itchen and Netley. A vigilant watch was consequently kept upon the movements of the Barnabys, father, son, and grandson--this last a smart, precocious youngster, I understood, of about sixteen years of age, by which family trio the suspicious _Blue-eyed Maid_ was, with occasional assistance, manned, sailed, and worked. Very rarely, indeed, was the _Blue-eyed Maid_ observed to be engaged in her ostensible occupation. She would suddenly disappear, and as suddenly return, and always, we soon came to notice, on the nights when the _Rose_ happened to be absent from the Southampton waters.