“Ay, ’tis me, sir, and glad am I to see you look at me again. For oons, sir, I thought you’d shut your eyes forever! You’re hurt, sir—badly hurt. And for sure ’tis one of them rascally smugglers that’s done it!” Ill as he was, Tregenna smiled and raised his eyebrows. “Smugglers, Tom! Nay, sure you mean ‘free-traders.’” “I means _smugglers_, domn ’em!” roared Tom, energetically. “And if ever I carry a keg again, or help ’em in their wicked ways, may I be riddled through and through, loike as if I was a target!” “Since—when have you—become so virtuous?” panted out Tregenna feebly. “Since one of ’em, nay two of ’em served me a dirty trick, sir,” answered Tom, fiercely. “Ask me no more, sir; for sure I don’t want for to let out what I’ve in my moind!” “How long—have I lain here?” “Not more’n the space of half a minute, sir. And no more you mustn’t. I be going for to call them at the Parsonage.” “Nay, nay, Tom, I should alarm them, in this plight.” “Never fear for that, sir. It would alarm ’em more for you to die!” And Tom hobbled away in the direction of the vicar’s house at a great rate. As he lay there in the cold air, Tregenna was vaguely conscious of a feeling of satisfaction that Gardener Tom had turned to honest ways. And then his mind began to wander again. He was recalled to full consciousness by a delicious sense of ease and peace, and by feeling the touch of the hand he loved the best in the world on his forehead. A few minutes afterwards he was lying on a hastily made bed in the vicarage parlor. Tregenna lay ill for some weeks; for the wound inflicted by Bill’s bullet was a serious one, and he had lost so much blood before he was discovered by Tom, that there was a fear lest he might not be able to stand the drain. Thanks to the tender nursing he received, however, at Joan’s loving hands, he presently began to mend. And it was when all danger was past that he learnt the fate of the two smugglers whom he had imprisoned in the vault beneath the church. Jack Price had managed to escape, but had had the misfortune to run straight into the arms of the brigadier and his soldiers, who now patrolled the country round Hurst with more assiduity than before. Being recognized as one of the most prominent of the smugglers, he was seized, carried to Rye, and hanged within a fortnight; for such offenders as he had scant shrift in those times. Bill Plunder was found dead in the vault, having been killed by the shot Tregenna had fired at him in exchange for his own. An enormous quantity of smuggled goods which had been secreted in the vault, were confiscated by the authorities: for even Squire Waldron had begun to see that his reign of laxity was over. Not a sign of the coffins was to be found, however; and a thrill of horror ran through every one at the thought that the smugglers had even got rid of these in order to make way for more plunder.