“That will not be fair, papa,” said Cecilia Ossulton; “we have no quarrel with the smuggler: I’m sure the ladies have not, for they bring us beautiful things.”
“Miss Ossulton,” observed her aunt, “it is not proper for you to offer an opinion.”
The yacht wore round, and, sailing so fast, the smuggler had little chance of escaping her; but to chase is one thing—to capture, another.
“Let us give her a gun,” said Lord B—, “that will frighten her; and he dare not cross our hawse.”
The gun was loaded, and not being more than a mile from the smuggler, actually threw the ball almost a quarter of the way.
The gentlemen, as well as Lord B—, were equally excited by the ardour of pursuit; but the wind died away, and at last it was nearly calm. The revenue-cutter’s boats were out, and coming up fast.
“Let us get our boat out, Stewart,” said his lordship, “and help them; it is quite calm now.”
The boat was soon out: it was a very large one, usually stowed on, and occupying a large portion of, the deck. It pulled six oars; and when it was manned, Mr Stewart jumped in, and Lord B— followed him.
“But you have no arms,” said Mr Hautaine.
“The smugglers never resist now,” observed Stewart.