nd Patrovish said it was a good job you
were gone, because they would have been sure to have caused trouble.
Yaunie wasn't sure, but I was on C----'s side, for, I said, why did
they mention the gunboat to me, if they didn't mean anything?"

"Whatever their intentions were," rejoined Captain S----, "the
precautions you took to checkmate were successful, and I am much
obliged for the trouble you took after you realized the danger. I must
always be grateful to you for that; and the next time you go out
there, thank my two friends for their important share in it, and say
to Patrovish that his own and his wife's wish to see me soon back is
much appreciated, but my present plans are such that I will not be
able to visit Russia for a long time to come, and it may be I never
shall again."

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 1: How came it to pass that the Russians were allowed to
cross the Balkans? How was it that they were allowed to take
possession so easily of the Schipka Pass? Did the personages who so
soon afterwards disappeared mysteriously and were never heard of again
yield up this stronghold to the possessors of a golden key? Poor
Turkey!]

Fair Trade and Foul Play

Smuggling at the beginning of the nineteenth century, and right up to
the middle of it, was rampant, and was regarded as a wholesome
profession by those who carried it on. They called it "fair trade,"
and looked upon those whose duty it was to destroy it with an aversion
that oftentimes culminated in murderous conflict. The seafaring
portion of this strange body of men, in characteristic contrast to
their "landlubber" accomplices, never at any time, or under any
circumstances, tried to conceal what their profession was. They were
proud to be known as smugglers; whereas their shore colleagues, many
of whom were gentry, or offshoots from it, adopted every possible
means to turn suspicion from themselves when the preventive men were
on the scent. Smugglers of that day were adroit tacticians; they had
their signs just as Freemasons or any other craft have theirs. The
pursuit was exciting, and the romance of it attracted men and women of
gentle as well as of humble birth into its ranks. The men who manned
the luggers were sailors who knew every bay and nook round the coast.
They made heroic speeches expressive of their contempt for death. They
talked boldly of powder magazines, and of blowing themselves and any
one else up who put them into a tight corner; and