"SIR" (he wrote),—
"Be good enough to meet me here this evening. Ask at the inn for Mr. Loveday. The matter is urgent, and the business the king's.
"Yours truly,
"JACK HARDY."
At six o'clock Mr. Goodman appeared.
"I am here, Mr. Hardy, but 'tis most inconvenient. I take it rather hard that a man of my age—"
"Exactly, Mr. Goodman. I'm not so old as you, and I should have come to you if I hadn't good reasons for keeping clear of the coast folk. I've information that the smugglers intend to make a run to-morrow."
"Is that all? Why, I often get such information, and nine times out of ten it is false. Besides, what's the good of knowing that a run is to be made if you don't know where?"
"I do know where."
"Oh, in that case leave it to me. I'll bag the whole gang. There's a score of rascals at Luscombe I'd like to hang—ay, and will, too. If your news is correct, 'twill be pretty soon, I promise you."