“You may be incredulous, madam,” replied Pickersgill, “if I tell you that I have as good a right to quarter my arms as Lord B— himself; and that I am not under my real name. Smuggling is, at all events, no crime; and I infinitely prefer the wild life I lead at the head of my men to being spurned by society because I am poor. The greatest crime in this country is poverty. I may, if I am fortunate, some day resume my name. You may, perhaps, meet me, and if you please, you may expose me.”
“That I should not be likely to do,” replied the widow; “but still I regret to see a person, evidently intended for better things, employed in so disreputable a profession.”
“I hardly know, madam, what is and what is not disreputable in this conventional world. It is not considered disreputable to cringe to the vices of a court, or to accept a pension wrung from the industry of the nation, in return for base servility. It is not considered disreputable to take tithes, intended for the service of God, and lavish them away at watering-places or elsewhere, seeking pleasure instead of doing God service. It is not considered disreputable to take fee after fee to uphold injustice, to plead against innocence, to pervert truth, and to aid the devil. It is not considered disreputable to gamble on the Stock Exchange, or to corrupt the honesty of electors by bribes, for doing which the penalty attached is equal to that decreed to the offence of which I am guilty. All these, and much more, are not considered disreputable; yet by all these are the moral bonds of society loosened, while in mine we cause no guilt in others—”
“But still it is a crime.”
“A violation of the revenue laws, and no more. Observe, madam, the English Government encourage the smuggling of our manufactures to the Continent, at the same time that they take every step to prevent articles being smuggled into this country. Now, madam, can that be a crime when the head of the vessel is turned north, which becomes no crime when she steers the opposite way?”
“There is a stigma attached to it, you must allow.”
“That I grant you, madam; and as soon as I can quit the profession I shall. No captive ever sighed more to be released from his chains; but I will not leave it, till I find I am in a situation not to be spurned and neglected by those with whom I have a right to associate.”
At this moment the steward was seen forward making signs to Mrs Lascelles, who excused herself, and went to him.
“For the love of God, madam,” said Maddox, “as he appears to be friendly with you, do pray find out how these cutlets are to be dressed; the cook is tearing his hair, and we shall never have any dinner; and then it will all fall upon me, and I—shall be tossed overboard.”
Mrs Lascelles desired poor Maddox to wait there while she obtained the desired information. In a few minutes she returned to him.