On that island they spent many years, hand in glove with the smugglers.
There was an old fellow, a farmer on the mainland, who rode a white horse into Looe. He acted as spy, and was intimate with the preventive men, who trusted him, and perhaps some of them had their palms greased to give him information. If the white horse were seen returning along the coast road to the west, that was a signal to Fyn that all was safe. But sometimes the horse was too lame or tired to return home, and the farmer went his way on foot; that always coincided with activity among the officers of the revenue.
From Looe Island, Fyn or his sister signalled by lights to the smugglers lying in the offing.
At length their daring and their success induced the Government to establish one of their guard on the island itself—the station is still there—and the man was bidden keep a watchful eye on Black Joan and her brother.
Now the Fyns had their secret stores full of a cargo they desired to run ashore, but were afraid of being seen by this man.
One day Black Joan hastened to the preventive officer with, “Oh, my dear! Now ther’s that terr’ble put out I be. What du ’y think now? My boat hev a broke her moorings, and is driftin’ wi’ the tide out to say. Oh, my dear man, du ’y now bring her in for me.” The officer ran to the cliff, and sure enough there was the boat slowly floating away on the ebb of the tide.
Being a good-natured man, and suspecting no ill, he at once got into his own boat and rowed hard after that which was adrift. The moment he was gone, a swarm of boats and men appeared on the shore on the further side of the island, and before the fellow was back, every keg had been carried across to the mainland.
But the officer in command had great difficulties with the station on Looe Isle. Partly through Black Joan’s fascinations, mainly through the liberal flow of drink at the hut of the Fyns, and the tedium of the long evenings in solitude, he could never rely on a man who was sent to Looe Island. In some way or other he was bamboozled, so that goods were landed there and transferred to the mainland almost as freely as formerly.
What was the end of this family I have not learned.
A few years ago, when a picnic party went to the island and were allowed the barn to feed in, as a drizzle had come on, suddenly the floor collapsed, and it was thus discovered that beneath was a cellar for the accommodation of spirits that were not intended to pay duty.