"At the creek, sir, same as time afore last. They did so well then that they couldn’ think of a better place, the den bein’ broke up." "And when?" "Thursday night, or ye med say Friday mornin’, accordin’ to the wind." "They mean to run, and not to sink, I suppose?" "Iss, sure, sir. Next day bein’ Christmas, ye see, they must hev the stuff carried off at once. I’d axe ’ee, sir, not to lay hands on the men; seize the tubs, in course, but I don’t want ’ee to do any hurt to the fellers." "Well, I’ll do what I can; but you know what soldiers are. They’ve been itching for months to fight Boney, and they want to keep their hand in, you know." "True, sir. Ah well! the carriers will run fast enough; ’tis only Zacky Tonkin and the rest I be afeard for; they’ll fight, ’tis sartin-sure." "You’re a thorough-paced scoundrel, you know, Doubledick," said the riding-officer. "’Pon my word, if it weren’t my duty to stop smuggling by hook or by crook, ’twould give me the greatest pleasure in life to see you tarred and feathered. I warned you, you remember. You’ll be caught one of these days, mark my words, and the money you’re heaping up won’t save you then, my man." "Hee! hee!" laughed Doubledick uneasily. "Name it all, was there any other way to save myself from jail? ’Tis a risk, I own it; it do gie me the creeps in the night sometimes when I think o’t. And be-jowned, sir, when you gie me the £50 for this job, I’ll pack up my traps and go into other parts wi’ my wife, and spend my old age in peace and quietness, if she’ll let me. Ye won’t stop me, sir?" "Not I. ’Tis dirty work, and I’d rather fight the trade fair and square, ’pon my word I would." "’Tis the last time, then, for me. And now I must be traipsin’ home-along." Mr. Polwhele accompanied him to the door. On the step Doubledick turned and said in low tones, his words, however, being distinct in the clear night air: "Ye’ll mind and not take Zacky, sir? I hain’t no fancy for blood-money." "I’ll do what I can. Good-night."