“I suppose so.”

“That’s quite bad enough, arn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Bad enough for me, sir, so I’m not going to do what might mean being—you know what I mean?”

“What—”

“Yes, that’s it. A bit o’ smuggling’s not got much harm in it, but they call it murder when a man kills a man.”

“By pushing him off a cliff, Eben?” said Aleck. “Yes.”


Chapter Nine.