The name of our smuggler's wounded prisoner was Augustus Hartley. He was about twenty-four years of age, and the son of a gentleman of considerable property in Devonshire; and, at the period we speak of, he was in expectation of being removed from his situation as second officer of the brig, and promoted to the command of a revenue-cutter. The wounds which he had received on the deck of the lugger were severe, and had reduced him to a state of extreme feebleness; but they were not dangerous. He knew not where he was, and he marvelled at the treatment he experienced; for it was kind, yea, even roughly courteous, and unlike what he might have expected from the hands of such men as those into whose power he had fallen. Anxiety banished sleep; and when the risen sun lighted up the chamber where he lay, he stretched forth his hand and drew aside the curtains, to ascertain whether the appearance of the apartment would in any way reveal the mystery which surrounded his situation. But it rather increased it. In the window were the flowers--around the walls the curious needlework; the furniture was neatly arranged--there was an elegance over all; and, to increase his wonder, in a corner by the window was a small harp, and a few pages of music lay on a table near him. "Surely," thought Augustus, "this cannot be the habitation of a half-uncivilised smuggler; and yet the man who brought me here seemed such." He drew back his head upon his pillow, to seek the explanation in conjectures which he could not otherwise obtain; and while he lay conjuring up strange fancies, Harry, with the mask upon his face, his hair tied up and concealed, and his body wrapped in a greatcoat, entered the room. "Well, how art thou now, lad?" said the smuggler, approaching the bed; "dost think ye could take breakfast yet?" Augustus thanked him; but the appearance of Harry in his strange disguise increased his curiosity and anxiety. Harry withdrew, and again returned with the breakfast; and though an awkward waiter, he was an attentive one. Few words passed between them, for the questions which Augustus felt desirous to ask were checked by the smuggler saying--"Now, my canny lad, while ye are here I maun lay an embargo on your asking ony questions, either at me or onybody else. Ye shall be taken gud care on--if ye want onything, just tak that bit stick at your bedside, and gie a rap on the floor, and I'll come to ye. Ye shall want for naething; and, as soon as ye are better, ye shall be at liberty to gang where ye like. But I maun caution ye again, that ye are to ask nae questions." Augustus again thanked him, and was silent. At the end of eight days, he was able to rise from his bed, and to sit up for a few hours. Harry now said to him-- "As thou wilt be dull, belike thou wilt have nae objections to a little music to cheer thee."