The old man, in his quality of surgeon, blamed Beauchamp highly for getting up at all; and, pointing out the swelled state of his ankle, declared that he would only let him remain up on condition that he would keep it raised upon a chair during the rest of the day. Beauchamp was perhaps a little irritable with the contention he had just gone through with various parts of his apparel; and, consequently, seating himself calmly on the nearest chair, he informed the old man, in a cool, determined tone, that it was his intention immediately to proceed to Dorchester, which, as far as he could calculate, was the nearest large town. He was met by the smuggler, however, in a way that he did not expect, and this, of course, gave a sudden change to the current of his feelings. Instead of telling him that he could not go, or that he should not go, or any of those things which would have rendered him more determined than ever, the old man replied, in a civil tone, "Well, sir, you can do as you like but I don't see how you can manage it to-night, for it is now near four--Dorchester's twenty miles off--and even were I to send for a shay, it can't come down within two mile of this place, 'cause there is no road. "Past four, is it?" cried Beauchamp. "I must have slept sound." "I dare say you were tired enough, sir," replied the old man; "but it is past four, indeed--and, as I was saying, Dorchester is twenty miles, and the next town is ten. You are very welcome to your bed, sir; and I think you had a great deal better stay till you can walk a bit." Beauchamp mused; for his situation was certainly a very unpleasant one. He knew it to be his duty to give immediate information of what had occurred to himself, to those persons who might investigate the matter thoroughly, and discover whether a greater offense had not been committed. At the same time, he felt the impossibility of walking two miles, if his life had been at stake; while he did not think it would be either wise or safe to intrust to a man of so doubtful a character as this Willy Small, even his suspicions in regard to persons, with one of whom, at least, the smuggler was on terms of friendship. It was impossible to say what the fear of being implicated in such a transaction as Beauchamp believed to have taken place, might cause him to do, if he found that he had in his power the only person who could prove his connection with the culprits. At the same time, the man's tone was perfectly civil, and even kind; and as soon as Beauchamp found that no opposition was intended to the exercise of his free-will, he of course dropped the more peremptory manner he had assumed, and determined to try milder means instead, though he well knew that no measures would have proved successful had the smuggler made up his mind to risk after consequences in order to gain the present object.