“Ring for Maddox. Maddox, tell Mr Pickersgill, who is on deck, that I wish to speak with him, and shall be obliged by his stepping down into the cabin.”
“Who, my lord? What? Him?”
“Yes; him,” replied Cecilia, laughing.
“Must I call him my lord, now, miss?”
“You may do as you please, Maddox; but recollect he is still in possession of the vessel,” replied Cecilia.
“Then, with your lordship’s permission, I will; it’s the safest way.”
The smuggler entered the cabin, the ladies started as he appeared in his rough costume. With his throat open, and his loose black handkerchief, he was the beau idéal of a handsome sailor.
“Your lordship wishes to communicate with me?”
“Mr Pickersgill, I feel that you have had cause of enmity against me, and that you have behaved with forbearance. I thank you for your considerate treatment of the ladies; and I assure you, that I feel no resentment for what has passed.”
“My lord, I am quite satisfied with what you have said; and I only hope that, in future, you will not interfere with a poor smuggler, who may be striving, by a life of danger and privation, to procure subsistence for himself, and, perhaps, his family. I stated to these ladies my intention of anchoring the yacht this night at Cowes, and leaving her as soon as she was in safety. Your unexpected presence will only make this difference, which is, that I must previously obtain your lordship’s assurance that those with you will allow me and my men to quit her without molestation, after we have performed this service.”