ountry of England,
that those were the famous times of smuggling, and that the money made
by evading the king's customs often amounted to a moderate fortune in
the course of a simple speculation.

The whole country apparently had two existences, a day and a night
one--a day and a night population--the clown and his tillage in the
light, the smuggler and his trade in the dark; yet the same peasant
frequently exhibiting a versatility for which John Bull seldom gets
credit.--The man of the plough-tail and the spade, drudging and dull
through one half of his being; the same man, after an hour or two of
sleep, springing from his bed at midnight, handling the sail and helm,
baffling his Majesty's cruisers at sea, and making a _melee_ with the
officers of the customs on shore--active, quick, and bold, a first-rate
seaman, brave as a lion, fleet as a hare, and generally having the best
of it in the exercise of both qualities.

Our numbers had evidently grown as we advanced, and at length a whistle
brought us to a dead stand. One of the party now touched my sleeve, and
said,--"Sir, you must follow me." The cliff was so near, that thoughts
not much to the credit of my companions came into my head. I drew back.
The man observed it, and said, "The captain must see you, sir. If we
wanted to do you any mischief, an ounce of lead might have settled the
business an hour ago. But if we are free-traders, we are not
bloodhounds. You may trust _me_; I served on board Rodney's ship."

Of course this was an appeal to my new friend's honour, which could not
be refused without hurting his etiquette most grievously, and I
followed. After two or three windings through an excavation in the
cliff, we came in front of a blazing fire, screened from external eyes
by a pile of ship timbers. Before the fire was a table with bottles, and
at it a man busily writing. On raising his eyes the recognition was
instant and mutual. I saw at once, in his strong features, my companion
on the roof of the Royal Sussex stage, whose disappearance had been the
subject of so much enquiry. He palpably knew a good deal more of me than
I did of him, and, after a moment's embarrassment, and the thrusting of
papers and pistols into the drawer of a table, he asked me to sit down;
hurried to the mouth of the cavern, heard the story of my capture from
the sailor, and returned, with his forehead rather smoothed.

"I am sorry, sir," said he, "that the absurdity of my people h