“An’ the sojers, Geordie? Nine sojers an’ twa o’ the coastguard desp’ret wounded! O man,’twas awfu’ ... an’ if ane o’ them should dee ... ’twould be noose an’ gibbet, y’ ken!” Mr. Potter smiled dreamily, and was his most guileless self as he answered: “They wunt die, sir—nary a one on ’em! They’ll be up an’ about again by now—though salt be apt to sting, an’ likewise smart a bit, d’ye see——” “Salt?” exclaimed Sir Hector. “Rock-salt, sir,” nodded Mr. Potter placidly. “I charged arl our pieces wi’ liddle lumps o’ rock-salt as couldn’t ’ardly ’arm a babby noo-born.” “Thank God!” cried Sir Hector fervently. “O Geordie man, I’ve hardly blinked an e’e the nicht for worry—and now—salt! Man, I fair admire at ye—salt! Geordie man, gi’e’s a grup o’ ye hond!” And Sir Hector laughed suddenly and was immediately solemn again. “John an’ Geordie,” he continued, “when Dumbrell’s Ann, thinkin’ they meant harm to old Penelope, came running to fetch me hither, I was upon my knees wrestling in prayer that no lives should be spilled and none of the lads taken, for if so, I, being equally guilty, was determined to give myself up and suffer with ’em. And as I prayed, John and George, I cam’ to the determination that I would be done wi’ free-trading henceforth, whilk determination I mean to abide by—amen!” “I be glad to hear it, sir!” nodded Mr. Potter. “You be too ’igh-strung for it, I rackon. Leave it to us as be born to it, same as our grandfeäthers was.” “And look’ee, John an’ Geordie, a’ the siller I have had by it—aye, every penny, I have spent on good works, and all that remains is yon lugger the _True Believer_, and that, Geordie man, I’m giving tae yourself!” “What—what, me, sir?” gasped Mr. Potter, rising suddenly from his chair. “You ... akerchally gimme the _True Believer_.... Me, Sir Hector?” “Aye, I do, George. She’s yours, every plank and bolt, every rope and spar.... And here’s my hand on’t!” “But,” stammered Mr. Potter, hesitating, “but what o’ Sharkie Nye, sir? My comrade Sharkie as ha’ sailed her so bold an’ true, blow fair or foul? What o’ Sharkie?” “Well, what o’ him, man?” “Why, I think, sir, if it be arl the same to you, I’d be more ’appier in my mind-like if you made Sharkie my partner, sir, share an’ share, your honour.” “Geordie Potter,” quoth Sir Hector, “gi’e’s your hand again. Your sentiments, George, do ye infinite honour, and I’m prood to ca’ ye freend.... Forbye, ye’re a rascally smugglin’-body an’ law-breaker, Geordie, whilk as an elder an’ respectable citizen I haud tae be an immoral an’ damnable practice. Faith, George, ’tis well to be free o’ the sin that I may condemn it in others. But look’ee, George, I hear that the man Sayle is like a madman after last nicht’s business, and vows to take ye and make an example of ye, which means—well——” “The gallers!” said Mr. Potter, reaching for his grog.