“I mean Free Trade,” corrected Freda.
John Thurley was perceptibly startled. He paused for a few moments, looking at her attentively, before he asked, in an altered tone:
“What do you know about that?”
“Oh, I’ve heard people talking about it—on the journey. Nobody seems to think it beneath him to be interested in trade up here.”
“You mean Free Trade?”
“Yes.”
“And I suppose you don’t know that Free Trade means smuggling?”
Now Freda had had suspicions of this before, so that she was not greatly surprised by the information. She jumped at once to a conclusion suggested by it.
“You are up here to look after the smugglers then?”
“Well, I’m not much given to disguise of any sort,” he admitted bluntly, “but the feeling up here is so strongly against the law and with the evildoers, that a little caution is absolutely necessary.”