thom under her--clean sand. That was where
Uncle Aurette used to sink his brandy kegs from Boulogne, and we fished
'em up and rowed 'em into The Gap here for the ponies to run inland.
One thickish night in January of 'Ninety-three, Dad and Uncle Lot and me
came over from Shoreham in the smack, and we found Uncle Aurette and the
L'Estranges, my cousins, waiting for us in their lugger with New Year's
presents from Mother's folk in Boulogne. I remember Aunt Cecile she'd
sent me a fine new red knitted cap, which I put on then and there, for
the French was having their Revolution in those days, and red caps was
all the fashion. Uncle Aurette tells us that they had cut off their
King Louis' head, and, moreover, the Brest forts had fired on an English
man-o'-war. The news wasn't a week old.

'"That means war again, when we was only just getting used to the
peace," says Dad. "Why can't King George's men and King Louis' men do on
their uniforms and fight it out over our heads?"

'"Me too, I wish that," says Uncle Aurette. "But they'll be pressing
better men than themselves to fight for 'em. The press-gangs are out
already on our side. You look out for yours."

'"I'll have to bide ashore and grow cabbages for a while, after I've run
this cargo; but I do wish"--Dad says, going over the lugger's side with
our New Year presents under his arm and young L'Estrange holding the
lantern--"I just do wish that those folk which make war so easy had to
run one cargo a month all this winter. It 'ud show 'em what honest work
means."

'"Well, I've warned ye," says Uncle Aurette. "I'll be slipping off now
before your Revenue cutter comes. Give my love to Sister and take care
o' the kegs. It's thicking to southward." 'I remember him waving to us
and young Stephen L'Estrange blowing out the lantern. By the time we'd
fished up the kegs the fog came down so thick Dad judged it risky for me
to row 'em ashore, even though we could hear the ponies stamping on
the beach. So he and Uncle Lot took the dinghy and left me in the smack
playing on my fiddle to guide 'em back.

'Presently I heard guns. Two of 'em sounded mighty like Uncle Aurette's
three-pounders. He didn't go naked about the seas after dark. Then come
more, which I reckoned was Captain Giddens in the Revenue cutter. He was
open-handed with his compliments, but he would lay his guns himself. I
stopped fiddling to listen, and I heard a whole skyful o' French up in
the fog--and a high bow c