s, I can assure you.
I have arranged to lay hands on fifteen at least of thorough
dare-any-things--fellows who look upon fighting as mere fun, and can
face the billows as well as tackle a foe."

"You interest me. Proceed."

"What say you to pirates, then?"

"Come, come, Tom."

"Well, they are the next thing to it. They are sea-smugglers. I met
One-legged Butler to-day, the king of coastguardsmen; and if we lend him
nets, he will land the fish."

"You mean seamen and cutlasses. Well, he'll have them; and I'll trust
the matter all to you."

"Nay, Jack, nay; the second lieutenant must be left in charge, and _you_
must come. Flora must see you."

"Flora?" cried Jack.

"Yes; we are to cut out the smuggler in Tor Bay."

"I'm with you, Tom. Well, we shall meet at dinner. _Au revoir._"

* * * * *

One-legged Butler was quite a character in his way. He had been in the
service in his very young days, and had lost a limb while fighting
bravely for king and country. But for this stroke of bad luck he might
have been an admiral, and there is little doubt he would have been a
brave one too. Appointed to the revenue service, he soon proved that,
in addition to cunning, tact, and bravery, he possessed detective
qualities of no mean order. His timber toe, as the sailors called his
wooden leg, was no drawback to him. Timber toes in those stirring times
were as common as sea-gulls in every British sea-port; and Butler's
powers of disguising himself, or making up to act a part in order to
gain information, were simply marvellous.

On the day Tom Fairlie made his acquaintance, he had been singing "Tom
Bowling" on the street in front of a public-house, and our Tom had gone
up to give him a penny. Like the Ancient Mariner, he had held Tom with
his glittering eye; and a very few moments' conversation was sufficient
to arrange for one of the cleverest and most daring little adventures
that ever supplied a man-o'-war with gallant "volunteers," as pressed
men were often ironically termed in those days.

They were a very merry party at dinner that day around the captain's
table. Not a large one, however; only Jack Mackenzie himself, his friend
Tom Fairlie, M'Hearty, one "middie," and bold Captain Butler, all good
men and true; and the servant who waited at table was one to be trusted.
Despite the fact that he was a Spaniard, he was most faithful, so that
the conversation could take any turn without d