But when all such danger had ceased, and the pirates had been swept from the seas, the duties were not only continued to be levied but were made more onerous. It was felt that there had been a violation of compact on the side of the Crown, and bold spirits entertained no conscientious scruples in setting at naught the law of contraband. The officers of the Crown instead of pursuing, capturing and hanging Algerine pirates, proceeded to seize and consign to prison native seamen. It was in this light that the matter was viewed by the water-dogs around the coast; nor was this confined to them, the opinion was shared by magistrates, country gentry, and parsons. Three classes of men were engaged in the business. First came the 'freighter'――the man who entered on it as a commercial speculation. He engaged a vessel, purchased the cargo, and made the requisite arrangements for the landing. Then came the 'runner,' who conveyed the goods on shore from the vessels; and lastly the 'tub-carriers,' who transported the kegs on their backs slung across their shoulders. Captain Job Rattenbury had at one time been a 'runner,' but he was now a 'freighter,' and to be that a man must be a capitalist. Winefred had reached the Roman Road, the Fosse way that ran from one end of England to the other, and, by the light of the stars, being chalk-paved, it gleamed like a belt of silver. But on it was observable something creeping like a slug in the uncertain light. The girl watched it as it approached. That which she saw was a train of tub-carriers. With audacity, and with a prospect of success due to this very audacity, the train was advancing along the high road, contrary to the wonted tactics of the free traders, but in reliance on the guard of the coast watching the shore, and the lanes leading from it. There were over a score of men in the line, and all had blackened their faces. They were moving a large amount of run goods from the hiding-holes of Beer, for dispersion among the taverns and gentlemen's houses that were expecting consignments. Winefred watched the black mass worm itself along uphill. She held back at first in the darkness of the hedge. It was her purpose to start forward to arrest Captain Job as soon as he came abreast of her. Several men went by. Two――four――eight, it was not possible for her in the feeble light to distinguish one from another, and the faces of all were black. 'Who goes? Halt!' Instantly the advancing line stopped, and one stepped forward, strode towards Winefred, who had moved and attracted attention, and said, 'Who is there?' 'Captain Rattenbury! O Captain――where is he?' 'Who asks?' 'It is I――Winefred. You have been betrayed.' CHAPTER XIII OUT OF THE SNARE In a moment Winefred was surrounded by men. There was something alarming in their appearance, with blackened faces. One, a tall, vigorous fellow, apparently young, stood forward and questioned her. 'What! Winefred Marley?'