"You did, eh?"
"Yes, father."
"And pray why?"
"Because, father," said the boy boldly, "I thought it was such a shame."
"You hear this, my dear?" said the squire, turning to Mrs. Penwith.
"Yes, love," said that lady, looking at her son with tearful eyes.
"And I am a magistrate, and my son behaves like this! 'Pon my word, this is supporting the law with a vengeance. But here's breakfast. I'll think about it, and see what I ought to do."
But the squire was so taken up with a visit from the commander of the cutter, which had made its appearance off the point that morning, and going down and seeing the clearing out of the cave, in which there was a grand haul for the sailors, that he apparently forgot to speak to[!-- [Pg 195] --] his son. He had no prisoners brought before him, for the smugglers had all escaped; and when Mrs. Penwith told him with a troubled face that their two boys had met at the bottom of the garden, quarrelled, and fought terribly, he only said—
"Which whipped?"
"Lance, my dear. Alfred is terribly knocked about."