t out by nature for a true blue-jacket; but condition
had made him a smuggler, or, to put it more gently, a free-trader.
Britannia, being then at war with all the world, and alone in the right
(as usual), had need of such lads, and produced them accordingly, and
sometimes one too many. But Mary did not understand these laws.

This made her look at him with great surprise, and almost doubt whether
he could be the man, until she saw her skirt neatly folded in his hand,
and then she said, "How do you do, Sir?"

The free-trader looked at her with equal surprise. He had been in such
a hurry, and his breath so short, and the chance of a fatal bullet after
him so sharp, that his mind had been astray from any sense of beauty,
and of every thing else except the safety of the body. But now he looked
at Mary, and his breath again went from him.

"You can run again now; I am sure of it," said she; "and if you would
like to do any thing to please me, run as fast as possible."

"What have I to run away from now?" he answered, in a deep sweet voice.
"I run from enemies, but not from friends."

"That is very wise. But your enemies are still almost within call of
you. They will come back worse than ever when they find you are not
there."

"I am not afraid, fair lady, for I understand their ways. I have led
them a good many dances before this; though it would have been my
last, without your help. They will go on, all the morning, in the wrong
direction, even while they know it. Carroway is the most stubborn of
men. He never turns back; and the further he goes, the better his bad
leg is. They will scatter about, among the fields and hedges, and call
one another like partridges. And when they can not take another step,
they will come back to Anerley for breakfast."

"I dare say they will; and we shall be glad to see them. My father is a
soldier, and his duty is to nourish and comfort the forces of the king."

"Then you are young Mistress Anerley? I was sure of it before. There are
no two such. And you have saved my life. It is something to owe it so
fairly."

The young sailor wanted to kiss Mary's hand; but not being used to any
gallantry, she held out her hand in the simplest manner to take back
her riding skirt; and he, though longing in his heart to keep it, for a
token or pretext for another meeting, found no excuse for doing so. And
yet he was not without some resource.

For the maiden was giving him a farewell smile, being