as yet attended by unsuccessful results only. One step especially, advised by him, had proved very unfortunate. Suspicion had been vaguely entertained by an officer of the Coast-Guard-how suggested it was not said—of Mr Denbigh, the occupier of Bauvale House, a handsome place about five miles east of Sidmouth, and something more than a mile and a half inland. These dim, and, as it proved, unfounded surmises, were strengthened by Silas Hartley's half-hints; and at last the officer was hastily awakened early in the morning by Silas, with the information, that a cargo of goods had been run just previously, and that he had himself seen the last loaded cart enter the court-yard of Bauvale House. This statement, corroborated by a country labourer, was fully credited: an entrance was forced, and the place ransacked from roof to cellar without the slightest article or evidence being found to palliate, much less to justify, the unwarrantable intrusion. The result was, that an action for compensation in damages had been brought by Mr Denbigh, and was now pending. Mr Denbigh was understood to be a person of large fortune, had qualified, or was about to qualify, as a county magistrate, and bore an excellent character in the neighbourhood. Still, Silas Hartley's good faith in the matter did not appear to be doubted, notwithstanding he had in this instance been so egregiously mistaken, and I had been directed to communicate with him. The conclusion I came to, after inquiry and examining the locality, was, that the injurious suspicion entertained of Mr Denbigh had its chief foundation in the evident adaptability of Bauvale House for a smuggler's depôt. It has, I believe, been long since pulled down; but somewhere about thirty years ago, it stood amidst a thick wood, was certainly less than two miles inland, and led to from a long line of coast by half-a-dozen foot and cart-ruts, through a considerable extent of which even horsemen would be concealed by the high banks and the generally woody and uneven nature of the ground. And, after all, might not Silas Hartley be himself connected with the smuggling confederacy-employed to throw dust in the

eyes of the preventive officers, and shield the real offenders, by diverting attention from them to innocent persons? It struck me as very likely to be so, and with this impression strong in my mind, I called at Trafalgar Cottage about noon one day.

The door was suddenly opened-violently jerked back, as it were, upon its grating hinges-by a gaunt, herculean figure, with a strongly-marked countenance, flaming at the moment with a fierce and angry light, unequalled in its intensity by any painting I have ever seen. I stepped back, as if physically struck. Silas Hartley, for it was he, forcibly mollifying his rugged aspect, and with an attempt at a smile, mocked by his quivering, ashy lips and burning eyes, said quickly: 'Don't be alarmed, Lieutenant Warneford-Oh, I know you very well! I am but just come in; and we'-he jerked his head in the direction of a woman, young apparently, rocking herself to and fro in a wooden-seated chair, and with her face buried in her apron, sobbing violently—and we have been terribly put out by the refusal of a scoundrel to redeem'

"Father! father!' screamed the female, dropping the apron from her face, and starting up with hands raised in a warning, imploring attitude. I now saw that she was young and comely. Father!'

Ay, ay, girl; I know, I understand. I was saying we had been disturbed, sir, by the refusal of a-a-well, hard words, to be sure, neither break bones nor butter parsnips -by the refusal of a person to redeem a―a debt solemnly promised to be discharged; and you, Mr Warneford, caught us just in the flurry of it: that's all.'

I had no difficulty, on involuntarily glancing round the apartment, to understand how keenly a delay of expected payment must be felt there. Still

'Poor, very poor, aint we?' fiercely broke out Silas Hartley, who had partially comprehended my look, and speaking with a kind of exultant bitterness. 'Miserably poor! Bare walls, rough floor, cold hearth, are to you signs of misery, wretchedness! Ah! young man, if you once knew what real misery'—

"Father! father!' again broke in the weeping girl.

To be sure, to be sure-right, girl,' rejoined Hartley, checking himself - 'right: I am not quite mad yet.' There was silence for a minute or two; and then the strong-willed man, having thoroughly subdued himself, as far at least as outward appearance went, turned calmly towards me, handed a chair, seated himself, and said in bland tones, as startling by contrast as his previous fury : And now, Lieutenant Warneford, we will, if you please, talk about the smugglers.'

The scene I had just witnessed had so entirely capsized all my previous notions and suspicions of the man, and set me so completely adrift as to his position and purposes, that I listened with but slight attention or interest to his rambling talk. All that he said, I had heard or read before; and feeling that, for some motive or other, he was endeavouring, very clumsily-for his thoughts were not with his speech-to bamboozle me, I rose to leave, at the same moment that the young woman, with a modest courtesy, passed into an inner room. Hartley's back was towards me as he closed the door after her, and I said carelessly: 'I am going to call upon your great neighbour, Mr Denbigh, who'

There was a fragment of looking-glass jammed between three nails on the wall in front of Hartley as he stood. As the word Denbigh passed my lips, he became instantly bolt upright, involuntarily or mechanically, as it were; and a section of the same face that had met me at the door, glared for a passing moment from the broken mirror. I stopped suddenly, but he did not look round, and presently stooped to tie one of his shoe-strings. By the time he turned towards me, his face was calm again. And here I may remark, that it had struck me several times, during his incoherent talk about smuggling, that his countenance, when fiercely quiet, so to speak, was that of a man condemned to death, or some other tremendous and inevitable penalty, undeserved, it might be, but certainly bitterly rebelled against.

'You are going to call on Squire Denbigh, are you?'

said he. 'Well, a very nice man is Squire Denbigh.' The deadliness of hate concentrated in the tone of these words could only be appreciated by the hearer of them. 'No friend of yours, I perceive. Well, good-by. I wish you well.'

'Good-day, sir,' he replied, grasping my extended hand. 'Nay, sir, excuse me; it is kind of you, and we are, it is true, poor; but this cannot be.'

'You are a seaman, I see that plainly enough, and should not scruple at a trifling gift from one.'

'True, I know the colour of blue water, but cannot for all that accept alms, even from you, Lieutenant Warneford.'

I said no more; the door gently closed behind me, and I went my way. I felt a good deal puzzled-discomfited would perhaps be the better word; for I had hoped for a very different result from the visit. There was evidently some mystery about the man, and I hated mysteries, especially such as appeared to foreshadow a sinister catastrophe, too many of which had already fallen in my way; and as Silas Hartley's griefs could not be in anywise connected with the special business I had in hand, I resolved to think no more, or, at all events, as little as possible, on the subject.

I found Mr Denbigh at home; and having sent in my name, I was at once admitted. Here, again, was a very different man from what I expected. Mr Denbigh was a shortish, sour, eager-eyed man of some fifty years of age, already stooping in his gait, and with no character in his face save that of remorseless greed and relentless cunning. He was seated in an apartment, half diningroom, half library, the furniture of which, though costly enough, appeared to have been taken hap-hazard from a furniture-store, so little did the articles harmonise with each other. My ostensible business was to solicit the favour of shooting over a portion of his property. This was readily granted; and indeed his liberality in such matters was the chief reason, I found, of his local popularity.

There is also, Lieutenant Robert,' said Mr Denbigh, a fine trout-stream on the estate, in which you are very welcome to fish?

It is late in the year for trout-fishing,' I answered with some surprise.

Ah, true! it may be,' rejoined Mr Denbigh, slightly colouring; but I do not much interest myself-not of late years, at least in these things.'

Odd! thought I. Here is a country squire confoundedly out of his latitude in the country! I was, I perceived, painfully taxing his politeness, as the impatient fumbling of his fingers amongst a number of papers on the table before him plainly indicated; and I at once took leave. The door opened as I moved towards it, and a young man hastily entered with some papers in his hand. He was rather a good-looking person, save for a certain cowed, dejected expression, discernible at a glance. 'Will it be necessary, sir'- he began.

'How dare you!' sternly, almost passionately interrupted Mr Denbigh- how dare you intrude here unsummoned, especially when I am, as now, engaged?'

The young man looked very frightened, and I, bowing hurriedly, hastened out of the room and the house.

I had not been fortunate in either of my visits; and my temper, by the time I reached the Lord Exmouth,' was a good deal ruffled by a consciousness that I was making lee rather than headway in the business intrusted to me. Happily, Tom Davis, it was soon apparent, was sailing right before the wind to the desired haven. The rollicking humour of the man, his strong but always controllable love of alcoholic potations, his well-known poverty, together with his reputation as a first-rate seaman, had quickly pointed him out as likely to prove both an able and willing instrument in the hands of the contrabandists. Golding, one of their agents, sounded him on the matter; and Tom gradually yielded, with coy reluctance, to his seductive overtures; and overcome by the glittering bait, finally agreed to take service with Golding's employers, whoever they might be a knowledge