All at once it flashed into his mind that it was not a load of contraband tobacco and spirits, laces and silks that the hay was concealing, but the wounded smuggler Tom, who had eluded the brigadier, escaping by the back way from the Parsonage on the approach of the soldiers. Almost at the same moment he realized why it was that Ann Price had shown such a sudden desire for his own company. The artful woman had guessed his suspicions of herself and her load of hay, and had invited Tregenna to put him off the scent, and to avoid having her vehicle overhauled by the soldiers. He took care not to betray, by word or sign, that he had heard that groan from the wounded man; he went on talking to Ann, getting her opinions on agricultural topics, which she gave with characteristic intelligence. And all the while he was congratulating himself that he should find out where Tom lived, and be able to follow him up and bring him to justice. There was another thing that he wished to find out: whether the tipsy smuggler whom Ann Price had treated so cavalierly was the “Ben Bax” whose knife he had found beside the murdered coastguardsman. He put the question to her direct— “Was that fellow who affronted you in the street yonder the man they call ‘Ben Bax’?” he asked at the first convenient opening in their conversation. But Ann, whether she knew the reason of his question or not, was cautious in her answer. “Maybe,” she answered, as if indifferently, “there be plenty o’ Baxes in these parts; they’re in every village. I know not whether I ever heard yonder fellow called by any other name than ‘Ben the Blast.’” “He’s a fisherman, I suppose, by his dress?” pursued Tregenna. She gave him a straight look, turning her head stolidly towards him to do so. “He’s mate of a merchantman, I think,” said she. “We don’t see much of him up here, and we shouldn’t mind if we saw less. He’s a rough fellow, and free with his fists when he’s in liquor.” “It seems you know how to manage him, however,” said Tregenna. Ann only smiled. And Tregenna, who saw that she meant to let him know no more, allowed the subject to drop. They had by this time jogged some distance out of the village, and were descending a slope towards the river. “We shall have to cross the water by the ford,” said she. “You’re not afraid, sir, to do it in the dark?” “Not with you,” answered Tregenna, promptly. “Have you much further to go, when the river is crossed?” “Not above another mile,” replied Ann. “And if you can’t stay the night at the farm, sir, we can put you in the way of coming back by a path, a little higher up, where there’s a ferry-boat to take you across.” “Thanks,” replied Tregenna. “I wish I could avail myself of your hospitality, but I must return to my boat to-night.”