"That depends upon our luck. The quicker work we make, the sooner we shall keep our harbour. One year, perhaps two. At all events, three, and your berth is sure." "Well, captain, but how shall it be for share?" "Why, there's the brig, and look ye, Will, she's all right and tight, and everything well provided aboard her. She is under your command; your first trip to Holland; your cargo, gin; and as to other goods, snuff, tobacco, linen, and such things, I let you barter with for yourself. Only secure me the main chance. As to risk, that's all mine. You shall receive, say one-sixth of the profit for the first year, one-third for the second; and an equal share after. Now, my boy, but that I know your pluck, and your tact, I should never make you such an offer. There you have it." "Captain, I'm your man!--I'm your man!" And so he sold himself to as artful, desperate, and bold a rover, as ever crossed the Channel. How true were poor Susan's last words to him--"You want steadiness of principle and stability of purpose!" From that hour, Will entered upon a course of life which led to his own ruin, and the ruin of others. He was caught in the toils of a smuggler, from which, though he once escaped, he never had sufficient stability to entirely emancipate himself. Captain Bargood, to whom Will thus sold himself, was a clever as well as a desperate adventurer. He contrived to keep up appearances as a steady trader, and had vessels as regularly chartered as any of England's noblest merchants. His sails visited with proper invoices all the ports along the coast, and he had connexions in every town of the first class of dealers. Yet this man managed to have withal an under-current in the contraband trade, which paid him far greater profits than his regular account.