The next morning he awoke earlier than the day before, but he found, from the smuggler's son, that the old man, true to his word, had already set out to procure a post-chaise for him from the nearest town. Many an hour passed by, however, without his return, and it was again nearly four o'clock ere Beauchamp, whose sole amusement had been looking out upon the ever varying sea, beheld him walking sturdily along over the high grounds to the west. He was soon down the little path, and into the house; but Beauchamp remarked that he paused not below, as he naturally might have done, to speak with his wife, but, on the contrary, with a hurried pace, proceeded straight up-stairs, and entered the stranger's room at once. He was far too much agitated to think of ceremonies; and, leaning on the table, without taking off his hat, he stood before Beauchamp, pale, trembling, and out of breath, for several moments, before he could utter a word.
"Oh, your honor!" he cried at length; "Oh, your honor! I hope to God you will stand my friend; for this is a horrible business I have got into, and, without help, I shall sink, that's certain!"
"What is the matter! What has happened!" demanded Beauchamp eagerly; but then, seeing the fearful state of agitation which shook the old man's powerful frame, he added, "Calm yourself! Calm yourself, Small! You have done nothing that I know of that can injure you! Let me hear what it is alarms you!"
"Thank you, sir, for that!" replied the smuggler, catching at Beauchamp's consolation. "Thank you for that! If you stand by me, I dare say I shall do. But what is it that alarms me? you ask. Why, what should it be! Why, when I went into the town of ----, what should I see but a number of people standing round the town-hall, just at a particular spot like; and something misgave me, so I went up, and there I saw stuck up against the wall a large sheet of paper, and at the top was printed, _Five Hundred Pounds Reward_; and then, when I looked below, I saw, in bigger letters still, _Murder!_ At first I could not see any more, my brain turned round so; but when I could read on, I saw in the _Blagard_, as the people called it, how those infernal villains, who were here the night afore last, had murdered a poor old helpless man at a place they call Ryebury. It did not just say it was them, indeed, but I am sure it was. Oh, I am quite sure it was them!"
The last declaration of his conviction was made more faintly, as if he entertained some slight hope that Beauchamp would contradict him; but, on the contrary, that gentleman replied, "I am afraid it was, indeed; for it was at that very place, Ryebury, and at the door of that old man's house, that they met me, and stunned me by a blow on the head. But what more did the placard say!"
"Oh, it mentioned a Captain Somebody," replied the smuggler. "I forget the name. It was a Frenchified name, however. It was that black-looking ---- with the whiskers, I'll bet a puncheon!"
"Was it Harding," demanded Beauchamp, fixing his eyes upon him eagerly, to catch his answer from his look, even before he had time to utter it.
"No, no, no!" answered the smuggler. "It was not Harding. It was some Frenchified name; and then there came some person or persons unknown. But now your honor will stand by me, I am sure; for if the justices find out that I helped them off the coast, they will make me out as having a hand in it; and I am sure that if I had known what they had been doing, I would sooner have scuttled the cutter, and sent them all to the bottom, if I had gone down with them myself."
"I really believe you would," replied Beauchamp; "and I do not think that, with the evidence which I can give, and which I will give in your favor, should any thing be brought against you, there is the slightest cause for your entertaining any apprehension."
"Thank you, sir! Thank you for that!" replied the smuggler. "That will make me easy, and now I'll go and tell the old woman."