Lord B— was very much surprised. He wished for an explanation; he bowed with hauteur. Everybody appeared to be in a false position; even he, Lord B—, somehow or another had bowed to a smuggler.
Pickersgill and Stewart went on deck, walking up and down, crossing each other without speaking, but reminding you of two dogs who are both anxious to fight, but have been restrained by the voice of their masters. Corbett followed, and talked in a low tone to Pickersgill; Stewart went over to leeward to see if the boat was still alongside, but it had long before returned to the yacht. Miss Ossulton had heard her brother’s voice, but did not come out of the after-cabin; she wished to be magnificent, and at the same time she was not sure whether all was right, Phoebe having informed her that there was nobody with her brother and Mr Stewart, and that the smugglers still had the command of the vessel. After a while, Pickersgill and Corbett went down forward, and returned dressed in the smugglers’ clothes, when they resumed their walk on deck.
In the mean time it was dark; the cutter flew along the coast, and the Needles’ lights were on the larboard bow. The conversation between Cecilia, Mrs Lascelles, and her father, was long. When all had been detailed, and the conduct of Pickersgill duly represented, Lord B— acknowledged that, by attacking the smuggler, he had laid himself open to retaliation; that Pickersgill had shown a great deal of forbearance in every instance; and after all, had he not gone on board the yacht, she might have been lost, with only three seamen on board. He was amused with the smuggling and the fright of his sister, still more with the gentlemen being sent to Cherbourg, and much consoled that he was not the only one to be laughed at. He was also much pleased with Pickersgill’s intention of leaving the yacht safe in Cowes harbour, his respect for the property on board, and his conduct to the ladies. On the whole, he felt grateful to Pickersgill, and where there is gratitude there is always good will.
“But who can he be?” said Mrs Lascelles; “his name he acknowledges not to be Pickersgill, and he told me confidentially that he was of good family.”
“Confidentially, my dear Mrs Lascelles!” said Lord B—.
“Oh, yes! We are both his confidants. Are we not, Cecilia?”
“Upon my honour, Mrs Lascelles, this smuggler appears to have made an impression which many have attempted in vain.”
Mrs Lascelles did not reply to the remark, but said, “Now, my lord, you must decide—and I trust you will, to oblige us; treat him as he has treated us, with the greatest respect and kindness.”
“Why should you suppose otherwise?” replied Lord B—; “it is not only my wish but my interest so to do. He may take us over to France to-night, or anywhere else. Has he not possession of the vessel?”
“Yes,” replied Cecilia; “but we flatter ourselves that we have the command. Shall we call him down, papa?”