The last time Sir Edward Digby had seen him, before that morning, he was in high happiness by the side of poor Kate Clare; and when the young officer looked at him, as he stood there, with a sort of dull despair in his whole aspect, he could not but feel strong and painful sympathy with him, in his deep grief.
"Mr. Harding," he said, approaching him, "the unhappy man is quite dead."
"Oh, yes, sir," answered Harding, "dead enough, I am sure. I hope he knew whose hand did it."
"I am sorry to give you any further pain or anxiety, at this moment," continued Digby, sinking his voice, "but I have heard that you are supposed to have taken some part in landing the goods which were captured the other day. For aught we know, there may be information lodged against you; and probably there will be some officer of Customs with the troop that is coming up. Would it not be better for you to retire from this scene for a little?"
"Thank you, sir,--thank you! That is kind!" answered Harding. "Life's a load to me; but a prison is another thing. I would have given any of those clumsy fellows a hundred guineas to have shot me as I sat there but no man shall ever take me, and clap me up in a cell. I could not bear that; and my poor Kate lying dead there, too!--I'll go, as you say."
But before he could execute his purpose, a small party of dragoons, commanded by a lieutenant, with Birchett, the riding officer, and two or three of his companions, came up at a trot, and poured through the gate of the churchyard, which was now open.
Sir Edward Digby advanced at once towards them--if the truth must be told, to cover Harding's retreat; but Birchett's quick, shrewd eye had run round the place in an instant; and, before the young baronet had taken two steps along the path, he cried, "Why, there is Harding! Stop him!--stop him! We have information against him. Don't let him pass!"
"I will pass, though," cried Harding, leaping at once upon the back of Richard Radford's horse. "Now, stop me if you can!" and striking it with his heel, he turned the animal across the churchyard, taking an angle, away from the dragoons. Birchett spurred after him in a moment; and the other officers followed; but the soldiers did not move. Passing close by the spot where young Radford lay, as the officers tried to cut him off from the gate, Harding cried, with a wild and bitter laugh, "He is a good leaper, I know!" and instantly pushed his horse at the wall.
The gallant beast took it at once, and dashed away with its rider along the road. The officers of Customs dared not trust their own cattle with the same feat; but Birchett exclaimed, in a loud and imperative tone, turning to the lieutenant of dragoons, "I require your aid in capturing that man. He is one of the most daring smugglers on the whole coast. We can catch him easily, if we are quick."
"I do not know that I am authorized," said the lieutenant, not well pleased with the man's manner; "where no armed resistance is apprehended, I doubt if----"