England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; Wessex (England) -- Fiction
They opened the wicket and went up the road abreast of each other, but
at some distance apart, scarcely a word passing between them. The
evening was rather less favourable to smuggling enterprise than the
last had been, the wind being lower, and the sky somewhat clear towards
the north.
‘It is rather lighter,’ said Stockdale.
‘’Tis, unfortunately,’ said she. ‘But it is only from those few stars
over there. The moon was new to-day at four o’clock, and I expected
clouds. I hope we shall be able to do it this dark, for when we have to
sink ’em for long it makes the stuff taste bleachy, and folks don’t
like it so well.’
Her course was different from that of the preceding night, branching
off to the left over Lord’s Barrow as soon as they had got out of the
lane and crossed the highway. By the time they reached Chaldon Down,
Stockdale, who had been in perplexed thought as to what he should say
to her, decided that he would not attempt expostulation now, while she
was excited by the adventure, but wait till it was over, and endeavour
to keep her from such practices in future. It occurred to him once or
twice, as they rambled on, that should they be surprised by the
excisemen, his situation would be more awkward than hers, for it would
be difficult to prove his true motive in coming to the spot; but the
risk was a slight consideration beside his wish to be with her.
They now arrived at a ravine which lay on the outskirts of Chaldon, a
village two miles on their way towards the point of the shore they
sought. Lizzy broke the silence this time: ‘I have to wait here to meet
the carriers. I don’t know if they have come yet. As I told you, we go
to Lulstead Cove to-night, and it is two miles further than
Ringsworth.’
It turned out that the men had already come; for while she spoke two or
three dozen heads broke the line of the slope, and a company of them at
once descended from the bushes where they had been lying in wait. These
carriers were men whom Lizzy and other proprietors regularly employed
to bring the tubs from the boat to a hiding-place inland. They were all
young fellows of Nether-Moynton, Chaldon, and the neighbourhood, quiet
and inoffensive persons, who simply engaged to carry the cargo for
Lizzy and her cousin Owlett, as they would have engaged in any other
labour for which they were fairly well paid.
At a word from her they closed in together. ‘You had better take it
now,’ she said to them; and handed to each a packet. It contained six
shillings, their remuneration for the night’s undertaking, which was
paid beforehand without reference to success or failure; but, besides
this, they had the privilege of selling as agents when the run was
successfully made. As soon as it was done, she said to them, ‘The place
is the old one near Lulstead Cove;’ the men till that moment not having
been told whither they were bound, for obvious reasons. ‘Owlett will
meet you there,’ added Lizzy. ‘I shall follow behind, to see that we
are not watched.’
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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