ugglin'."

"Well, wot then?" inquired Rodney Nick.

"W'y, I means to _make_ 'im give in," returned Long Orrick.

"An' s'pose he won't give in?" suggested Rodney.

"Then I'll cut his throat," replied Orrick, fiercely.

"Then I'll have nothin' to do with it."

"Stop!" cried the other, seizing his comrade by the arm as he was
turning to go away. "A feller might as well try to joke with a jackass
as with you. In coorse I don't mean _that_; but I'll threaten the old
hypocrite and terrify him till he's half dead, and _then_ he'll give
in."

"He's a frail old man," said Rodney; "suppose he should die with
fright?"

"Then let him die!" retorted Long Orrick.

"Humph; and s'pose he can't be terrified?"

"Oh! get along with yer s'posin'. Will ye go or will ye not? that's the
question, as Shukspere's ghost said to the Hemperer o' Sweden."

"Just you an' me?" inquired Rodney.

"Ain't we enough for an old man?"

"More nor enough," replied Rodney, with a touch of sarcasm in his tone,
"if the old boy han't got friends with him. Don't ye think Bax might
have took a fancy to spend the night there?"

"No," said Long Orrick; "Bax is at supper in Sandhill Cottage, and _he_
ain't the man to leave good quarters in a hurry. But if yer afraid,
we'll go with our chums to the churchyard and take them along with us."

Rodney Nick laughed contemptuously, but made no reply, and the two
immediately set off at a run to overtake their comrades. Tommy Bogey
followed as close at their heels as he prudently could. They reached
the walls of Saint George's Church, or the "Great Chapel," almost at the
same moment with the rest of the party.

The form of the old church could be dimly seen against the tempestuous
sky as the smugglers halted under the lee of the churchyard wall like a
band of black ghosts that had come to lay one of their defunct comrades,
on a congenial night.

At the north end of the burying-ground of Saint George's Church there is
a spot of ground which is pointed out to visitors as being the last
resting-place of hundreds of the unfortunate men who fell in the
sea-fights of our last war with France. A deep and broad trench was dug
right across the churchyard, and here the gallant tars were laid in
ghastly rows, as close together as they could be packed. Near to this
spot stands the tomb of one of Lord Nelson's young officers, and beside
it grows a tree against which Nelson is said to have leaned when he
attend