T. C. Savill, Printer, 4, Chandos-street, Covent-garden. THE SMUGGLER: A Tale BY G. P. R. JAMES, ESQ. AUTHOR OF "DARNLEY," "DE L'ORME," "RICHELIEU," ETC. ETC. IN THREE VOLUMES. VOL. III. LONDON: SMITH, ELDER AND CO., 65, CORNHILL. 1845. THE SMUGGLER. CHAPTER I. It was two o'clock when Sir Robert Croyland left his daughter; and Edith, with the aid of her maid, soon recovered from the swoon into which she had fallen. At first she hardly knew where she was, or what had taken place. All seemed strange to her; for she had never fainted before; and though she had more than once seen her sister in the state in which she herself had just been, yet she did not apply what she had witnessed in others to explain her own sensations. When she could rise from the sofa, where her father had laid her, and thought and recollection returned, Edith's first inquiry was for Sir Robert; and the servant's answer that he had been gone a quarter of an hour, was at first a relief. But Edith sat and pondered for a while, applying herself to call to mind all the last words which had been spoken. As she did so, a fear came over her--a fear that her meaning might have been mistaken. "No!" she murmured, at length--"no! I said, _but_--he must have heard it.--I cannot break those vows--I dare not; I would do anything to save him--oh, yes, doom myself to wretchedness for life; but I cannot, unless Henry gives me back my promise.--Poor Henry! what right have I to make him suffer too?--Yet does he suffer?--But a father's life--a father's life! That must not be the sacrifice!--Leave me, Caroline--I am better now!" she continued aloud; "it is very foolish to faint in this way. It never happened to me before." "Oh dear, Miss Edith! it happens to every one now and then," said the maid, who had been in her service long; "and I am sure all Sir Robert said to you to-day, was enough to make you." "Good heaven!" cried Edith; in alarm, "did you hear?" "I could not help hearing a part, Miss Edith," answered the maid; "for in that little room, where I sit to be out of the way of all the black fellows, one hears very plain what is said here. There was once a door, I believe, and it is only just covered over." For a moment, Edith sat mute in consternation; but at length demanded, "What did you hear? Tell me all, Caroline--every word, if you would ever have me regard you more."