d following the rough road, came at last
to the scattered cottages occupied by Shackle's men, and those who had
once been servants at the Hoze, before it had sunk down in the world,
consequent upon its master's having espoused the wrong side, and its
servants were reduced to one old woman.

As they reached the tiny hamlet, a short conference was held between
Archy and the master, the latter, in a surly way, giving the lad a few
hints as to his proceedings, every suggestion, though, being full of
common sense.

"We've no right to go searching their places, Mr Raystoke, but I shall
make a mistake. They won't complain. They daren't."

"Why?"

"Hands are too dirty; if not with this job, with some other."

So they halted the men, posted one at each end of the little place, so
as to command a good view of any one attempting to carry off contraband
goods, and went from house to house, the people readily submitting to
the intrusion and search, which in each case was without result.

Every one of the cottages being tried, the men were marched down hill
after Archy, and stood for a few moments gazing out over the cliff, to
where the cutter lay at anchor, with the farmer's boat trailing out
astern, and the air so clear that he could even see the cow tethered to
a belaying pin, just in front of the mast.

Five minutes after they came upon Fisherman-farmer Shackle himself,
leaning over his gate and smoking a pipe, as he apparently contemplated
a pig, and wondered whether he ought to make it fatter than it was.

"Mornin', gentlemen," he said, as Archy and the master came up, and
halted their men.

"Good morning," said Archy shortly. "Stand aside, please; we must
search all your places."

"Search my places, squire--capt'n, I mean? He aren't here."

"Who is not here? Are not you the master?"

"Ay, my lad, but I mean him you're searching for. Hi! Missus!"

"Yes," came from within, and Mrs Shackle appeared wiping her hands.

"Ain't seen a deserter, missus, have you? Capt'n here has lost one of
his men."

"If you'll let me speak, I'll explain," said Archy sharply. "A cargo of
contraband goods was landed on the rocks below the cliff last night,
and--"

"You don't say so, master!" said Shackle earnestly.

"I do say so," cried Archy; "and you are suspected of having them
concealed here."

"Me!" cried Shackle, bursting into a roar of laughter. "Me, Mr
Orficer? Do you know what I am?"

"No."

"Why, I'm a f