"What were you doing with the smugglers?" asked the officer suddenly, staring hard at my face, to watch for any change of expression.
But I was ready for him. A boy is often better able to keep his countenance than a grown man. With masters, and aunts, and game-keepers all down upon him, he lives a hunted life. He gets lots of practice in keeping his countenance. A grown man often gets very little.
"What smugglers, sir?" I asked as boldly as I could.
"The men you sailed with from Etaples," said the officer.
"Sailed with?" I asked, feeling that I was done for.
"Didn't the horses splash about, when you cut the cable?" said the officer, with a smile.
This time I thought I had better not answer. I looked as puzzled as I could, and looked from one face to the other, as though for enlightenment.
"Now, Jim," said one of the runners. "It's no good. Tell us all about the smugglers, and we'll let you go."
"We know you're the boy we want," said the captain. "Make a clean breast of it, and perhaps you will get off with transportation."
"Now don't look so innocent," said the other runner. "Tell us what we want to know, or we'll make you."