ding knee-deep until
the kegs were slung across by the single girth. As soon as this was
done, a slap on the rump sent the beast shoreward, and the man scrambled
out after him. There was scarcely any talk, and no noise except that
caused by the wading of men and horses.

Now all this time I carried my parcel of little dolls in a satchel slung
at my shoulder, and was wondering to whom I ought to deliver it. I knew
a word or two of English, picked up from the smugglers that used to be
common as skate at Roscoff in those days; so I made shift to ask one of
the men alongside where the freighter might be. As well as I could make
out, he said that the freighter was not on the beach; but he pointed to
a tall man standing beside the lantern and gave me to understand that
this was the "deputy." So I slipped over the gunwale and waded ashore
towards him.

As I came near, the man moved out of the light, and strolled away into
the darkness to the left, I don't know upon what errand. I ran after
him, as I thought, but missed him. I stood still to listen. This side
of the track was quite deserted, but the noise of the runners behind me,
though not loud, was enough to confuse the sound of his footsteps.
After a moment, though, I heard a slight scraping of shingle, and ran
forward again--plump against the warm body of some living thing.

It was a black mare, standing here close under the cliff, with the kegs
ready strapped upon her. I saw the dark forms of other horses behind,
and while I patted the mare's shoulder, and she turned her head to sniff
and nuzzle me, another horse came up laden from the water and joined the
troop behind, no man leading or following. The queer thing about my
mare, though, was that her coat had no grease on it like the others, but
was close and smooth as satin, and her mane as long as a colt's.
She seemed so friendly that I, who had never sat astride a horse in my
life, took a sudden desire to try what it felt like. So I walked round,
and finding a low rock on the other side, I mounted it and laid my hands
on her mane.

On this she backed a foot or two and seemed uneasy, then turned her
muzzle and sniffed at my leg. "I suppose," thought I, "a Cornish horse
won't understand my language." But I whispered to her to be quiet, and
quiet she was at once. I found that the tubs, being slung high, made
quite a little cradle between them. "Just a moment," I told myself,
"and then I'll slip off and r