"With all the pleasure in life. Amos, or whatever your name is, set down the trunk for the inspection of this exceedingly zealous officer of His Majesty's."
The trunk was opened, and Penwarden turned over its contents, Mr. Mildmay looking on. He found articles of apparel, a sword, some bundles of papers, a bag of money, a large leather-bound book, a brace of pistols, and sundry insignificant articles, none of which was chargeable with duty.
"Thank you, sir," said Mr. Mildmay, when the inspection was concluded. "I am sorry to have detained you, but in these times——"
"Quite so, captain," interrupted the other. "In these times one cannot be too particular. I bid you good-night, and better luck at your next examination."
Mr. Mildmay hurried on with Penwarden, and was soon lost to sight.
"Who's that popinjay?" said the traveller, when the lieutenant was out of hearing.
"That be Maister Mildmay, the preventive officer, and a dratted furriner," replied the fisher. "He've been in these parts two years now, and a meddlesome feller he be too. Hee! hee! He got nowt for his pains this time, maister, and if there's one thing I do like to see, 'tis the preventives fooled. Hee! hee!"
"Old Penwarden looks the same as ever, except for the shade over his eye."
"Do 'ee know him, maister?"
"I used to, years ago."