“All right, sir,” replied Hilary; “I’m used to that sort of thing now.”
“Where have you been, sir?”
“Made prisoner by the smugglers, sir. And now, if you will take my advice, sir, you will draw off the men and secure the lugger. By daylight I can, if we find a way up the cliffs, conduct you to the place they make their rendezvous.”
“I repeat, Mr Leigh, that you must consider yourself under arrest,” said the lieutenant stiffly. “Your plans may be very good, but I have already made my own.”
Hilary said nothing, for he knew his officer of old; and that, while he would profess to ignore everything that had been said, he would follow out the advice to the letter.
And so it proved; for, drawing off the men, they were led down to the boats, the lugger was pushed off, and those of her crew left on board made to handle the sweeps till she was secured alongside of the cutter, where the smugglers to the number of eight were made prisoners below.
The men were in high glee, for it proved next morning that there was still enough of the cargo on board to give them a fair share of prize-money, and there was the hope of securing more of the cargo at the old hall of which Hilary spoke.
“I am quite convinced of the existence of that place, Mr Leigh,” said the lieutenant pompously, “and I have been questioning the prisoners about it. If you give your promise not to attempt an escape, I will allow you to accompany the expedition under the command of the gunner, as I shall be obliged to stay on board.”
To his intense astonishment, Hilary, who longed to head the party and try to capture the rest of the smuggling crew, drew himself up.
“Thank you, sir, no,” he replied; “as I am a prisoner, I will wait until I have been before a court-martial. Shall I go below, sir?”