I need not tell about his discovering in what part of the country the smuggler had left him; of his journey to his father's house in Devonshire, or his relation of what had befallen him; nor how he dwelt upon the remembrance of Fanny, and vainly endeavoured to trace where her residence was, or to discover what was her name beyond Fanny.
He was appointed to the command of a cutter, and four years passed from the period of the scenes that had been described, when, following in pursuit of a smuggling vessel, he again arrived upon the coast of Northumberland. Some of his crew, who had been on shore, brought him information that the vessel was delivering her cargo near Embleton; and, ordering two boats to be manned, he instantly proceeded to the land. They came upon the smuggler; a scuffle ensued, and one of Captain Hartley's men was stabbed by his side with a clasp-knife, and fell dead at his feet; and he wrenched the knife from the hand of the murderer, who with his companions, effected his escape without being discovered.
But day had not yet broken when two constables knocked at the door of Harry Teasdale, and demanded admission. The servant-girl opened the door—they rushed into the house, and to the side of the bed where he slept. They grasped him by the shoulder, and exclaimed—
"You are our prisoner."
"Your prisoner!" replied Harry; "for what, neighbours?"
"Weel dow ye knaw for what," was the answer.
Harry sprang upon the floor, and, in the excitement of the moment, he raised his hand to strike the officers of the law.
"You are only making things worse," said one of them; and he submitted to have handcuffs placed upon his wrists.
Fanny sprang into the room, exclaiming—
"My father—my father!" and flinging her arms around his neck; "oh, what is it?—what is it?" she continued, breathless, and her voice choked with sobbing—"what do they say that you have done?"