‘But I have a right to see you! How do you think there can be anything between us now?’ Lizzy was silent. ‘You are a smuggler,’ he continued sadly.
‘I have only a share in the run,’ she said.
‘That makes no difference. Whatever did you engage in such a trade as that for, and keep it such a secret from me all this time?’
‘I don’t do it always. I only do it in winter-time when ’tis new moon.’
‘Well, I suppose that’s because it can’t be done anywhen else . . . You have regularly upset me, Lizzy.’
‘I am sorry for that,’ Lizzy meekly replied.
‘Well now,’ said he more tenderly, ‘no harm is done as yet. Won’t you for the sake of me give up this blamable and dangerous practice altogether?’
‘I must do my best to save this run,’ said she, getting rather husky in the throat. ‘I don’t want to give you up—you know that; but I don’t want to lose my venture. I don’t know what to do now! Why I have kept it so secret from you is that I was afraid you would be angry if you knew.’
‘I should think so! I suppose if I had married you without finding this out you’d have gone on with it just the same?’
‘I don’t know. I did not think so far ahead. I only went to-night to burn the folks off, because we found that the excisemen knew where the tubs were to be landed.’