"Flags! Aye; these were clever fellows, and knew their business, you see. Here are pretty imitations of navy flags, and a fine variety. British, Dutch, French! They knew what they were about,--those fellows."
"So do you, it seems, Mr. Pim," observed the Collector. "You are as wonderfully learned in flags as if you had taken a few trips to sea yourself."
"I have lived on this coast for many a year, and seen most of the flags that wave on these seas," replied Pim. "But since these flags are but poor booty, it is a pity your men cannot catch those that hoisted them, and so get a share of the fine."
"Suppose you put them on the right scent, Mr. Pim. I fancy you could, if you chose."
Mr. Pim disclaimed, with all the gravity which his son's presence could impose. A parcel of bandanas next appeared, and as the familiar red spotted with white appeared, a smile went round the circle of those who anticipated a share of the seizure.
"Ho, ho! I suspect I know who these belong to," observed the Collector. "There is a gentleman now not far off on this coast who could tell us all about them, I rather think. He has been sent for from London, under suspicion of certain tricks about the drawback on the exportation of silks. His shop is supplied very prettily by our smugglers, and his connexion with them is supposed to be the inducement to him to make large purchases at the India sales. I have no doubt he is one of those who buy bandanas at four shillings a piece, and sell them at eight shillings, when they have had a trip to Ostend or Guernsey. I have a good mind to send for him."
"This is the last sort of commodities I should think it can be pleasant to you Custom-house folks to declare forfeited," observed Pim. "Your consciences must twinge you a little here, I should think. I don't doubt your tobacco and your brandy being duty-paid, and all proper; but when paying duty will not do, you will offend, just like those who are not government servants, rather than go without what you have a mind to. I'll lay any wager now----"
"Hold your impertinent tongue, sir," cried the Collector.
Mr. Pim obeyed, taking leave to use his hands instead. He stepped behind the Collector, and quietly picked his pocket of a bandana: he did the same to the Comptroller; and afterwards to all the rest, though the land-waiter whisked away his coat-tail, and the tide-waiter got into a corner.[corner.] The only one who escaped was the clerk (Pim’s[Pim’s] own son), and he only because his having one round his neck made the process unnecessary. A goodly display of bandanas,--real Indian,--now graced the counter, and everybody joined in Pim's hearty laugh.
"Now," said he, "if you summon Breme on the suspicion of this property being his----"