ly to
sea, and when he was really considered to be a rich man, the crew of
his boat began to call him _master_, notwithstanding his sou'-wester
and canvas kilt. And now that it was known to them, and currently
rumoured in Embleton, that he was part proprietor of a lugger, many of
the villagers began to call Fanny Miss Teasdale; and it must be said,
that in her dress and conversation she much nearer approximated to one
that might be styled _Miss_, than to a fisherman's daughter. But, when
the character and education of her mother are taken into account, this
will not be wondered at.

It would be uninteresting to the reader to describe the journey of
Harry and Ned Thomson to Blyth; before they arrived at Felton, Harry
had overtaken Ned, and they rode on together.

On arriving at Blyth, they stopped at the door of an individual who
was to receive forty kilderkins of Hollands from the lugger, and a
quantity of tobacco. It is well known to be the first duty of an
equestrian traveller to look after his horse, and to see that it is
fed; but, in this instance, Harry forgot the established rule--the
horses were given in charge of a girl to take them to a stable, to see
them fed, or otherwise, and Harry hastened into the house, and
breathlessly inquired of its owner--"I hope to heaven, sir, ye have
heard nothing of the Swallow?"

[The lugger was called the "Swallow," from the carpenter in Cuxhaven,
who built her, having warranted that she "would _fly_ through the
water."]

"Why, nothing," replied Harry's brother smuggler; "but we shall be on
the look-out for her to-night."

"So far well," said Harry; "but I hope you have no fear of any king's
lobsters being upon the coast, or rats ashore?"

"I don't think we have anything to fear from the cutters," said the
other; "but I won't answer for the spies on shore; there are folk wi'
us here, as weel as wi' ye, that canna see their neighbours thrive and
haud their tongue; and I think some o' them hae been gaun owre aften
about wi' the spy-glass this day or two."

"Then," said Harry, "the lugger doesna break bulk here, nor at
Embleton outher--that's flat. Get ye a boat ready, neighbour, and we
maun off and meet her, or ye may drink sma' yill to your venture and
mine."

"It is growing too stormy for a boat to venture out," answered the
other.

"Smash, man!" rejoined Harry; "wad you sit here on your hunkers, while
your capital is in danger o' being robbed frae ye as simply as y