year.

I had scarcely settled this in my mind when I heard voices outside the
cave. Wondering what it might mean I crept to the opening, and, looking
out, saw Richard Tresidder and his son, Nick, standing and talking with
two Preventive men. A great rock hid me from their sight, besides which
I was at least twelve feet above them.

"You say you've searched all around here for a cave?" asked Richard
Tresidder.

"All round, sur," replied one of the officers. "Ther's smugglin' done
'long 'ere right 'nough, but I've my doubts 'bout Granfer Fraddam's
Caave as et es called. Ther's not an inch 'long the coast here that we
'ain't a-seed; we've found lots of caaves, but nothin' like people do
talk about. As for this cove, where people say et es, why look for
yerself, sur, ther's no sign of it. We can see every yard of the little
bay here, but as fer Granfer Fraddam's Caave, well, that's all wind,
I'm a-thinkin'."

"I'm of the same opinion myself. Still, I thought we'd better come and
make sure, that was why I asked you to come."

"That's oal right, sur, glad are we to do anything to 'elp 'ee. But
ther's plaaces furder down, sur, and they must be watched."

"Do you not think you are mistaken?" I heard Richard Tresidder say;
"there has been no smuggling done here since Granfer Fraddam's days.
There is plenty of it done at the Lizard, and at Kynance, and right down
to St. Michael's Mount to Penzance Harbour, but there is none here."

"But there es, Maaster Tresidder. Not a week agone a boat-load of
sperits was landed at Polventor."

"At Polventor! Why, I thought you kept a sharp look-out there. Besides,
only fisher folk live there."

"'Iss, but tes they fishermen that do do et. Ye see, they go out so they
zay to catch fish, and then afore mornin' they do come across the big
smugglers' boats, and taake the things to the coves they do know 'bout.
They be all of a piece, Maaster Tresidder."

"Well, keep a sharp look-out, Grose, and bring them before me, and I'll
see that they don't do any more smuggling for a few months."

"I'm glad we've 'ad this 'ere talk, sur, you bein' a majistraate. But we
must be off, sur."

"Good-afternoon. By the way, if you call at Pennington to-night about
ten I shall be glad to see you. You will perhaps be able to report
progress by that time."

"Thank 'ee kindly, sur. Good afternoon."

Richard Tresidder and his son Nick then sat down on a rock near, and
both began to smoke, and then, when