f Cuttance was a dastardly one, and that duty required him
to act as he did.

It seemed to Oliver as if Joe Tonkin had divined his thoughts, for at
that moment he pushed close to him and whispered in his ear, "Jim
Cuttance didn't mean to rob th' owld man, sur. He only wanted to give
he a fright, an' make un pay what he did owe un."

This was a new light on the subject to Oliver, who at once formed his
resolution and acted on it.

"Cuttance," he said, "it is not unlikely that, if brought to justice,
you will swing for this night's adventure."

He paused and glanced at the face of his prisoner, who still maintained
rigid silence.

"Well," continued our hero, "I believe that your intentions against Mr
Hitchin were not so bad as they would appear to be--"

"Who told 'ee that?" asked the smuggler sternly.

"No matter," replied Oliver, drawing a knife from his pocket, with which
he deliberately cut the cords that bound his prisoner. "There--you are
free. I hope that you will make better use of your freedom in time to
come than you have in time past, although I doubt it much; but remember
that I have repaid the debt I owe you."

"Nay," replied Cuttance, still continuing to walk close to his
companion's side. "I did give you life. You have but given me
liberty."

"I'd advise you to take advantage of that liberty without delay," said
Oliver, somewhat nettled by the man's remark, as well as by his cool
composure, "else your liberty may be again taken from you, in which case
I would not give much for your life."

"If you do not assist, there is no one here who can take me _now_,"
replied Cuttance, with a smile. "However, I'm not ungrateful--
good-night."

As he said this, the smuggler turned sharp to the right into one of the
numerous narrow passages which divide the dwellings of Newlyn, and
disappeared.

Charles Tregarthen, who was as sharp as a needle, observed this, and,
leaving his man in charge of Tonkin, darted after the fugitive. He soon
returned, however, wiping the perspiration from his brow, and declaring
that he had well-nigh lost himself in his vain endeavours to find the
smuggler.

"How in all the world did you manage to let him go?" he demanded
somewhat sharply of Oliver.

"Why, Charlie," replied his friend, with a laugh, "you know I have not
been trained to the duties of a policeman, and it has always been said
that Jim Cuttance was a slippery eel. However, he's gone now, so we had
better