“Although I had continued my intimacy with several of my early smuggling companions, I managed to reach my eighteenth year without being considered worse than a wild sort of chap. About this time I formed an acquaintance with a pretty girl, the daughter of a respectable farmer in the neighbourhood. Her old father spoke to me on the subject. I knocked him down and fled. I had behaved like a villain. I knew it then; I feel it now. The poor girl refused to see me when I afterwards tried to meet her, and soon died of a broken heart. The neighbourhood was no longer to my liking. I felt that every finger was pointed at me; but I stifled conscience, and tried to appear indifferent as to what folks said of me. Oh, that I had listened to that small voice then! My after-life would have been very different.
“I had always been accustomed to get about in boats; and having just before formed the acquaintance of a noted smuggler, one Brand Hallton by name—I then thought him one of the finest fellows on either side of the channel—I made my first trip across to the coast of France in his company. That man was the chief cause of my subsequent career in crime and misery—my evil genius. Oh, sir, warn all the young men you may meet to shun the company of the wicked and immoral as they would a pestilence! They are the instruments with which the devil works out his deeds of darkness. I did not know how bad he was, or, perhaps, I might have avoided him and been saved. For two years or more, I was constantly in some smuggling craft or another; and though we frequently lost a cargo, we managed to escape being taken and sent on board a man-of-war to serve the king. This hazardous varied sort of life just suited my taste, and, as I had more learning than the rest of my companions, I was looked up to by most of them. However, our success was not to last for ever: through the treachery, as we afterwards discovered, of one of the people we employed on shore, we were unusually unfortunate; and, suspecting what was the case, we vowed to be revenged on whomever it might be.
“I had never seen blood shed—my hands were free from that crime. Oh that they were so now, I should not care so much about dying! We had a large cutter, carrying four guns, with forty stout hands on board, Brand Hallton being our captain; so that we could easily beat off any revenue boats which might attempt to board us.
“Every one was armed to the teeth; and on the occasion I am about to speak of, the word was passed that all the helpers on shore should come prepared for resistance, in case of being molested. We took in our cargo, consisting of silks, laces, tea, and other valuable commodities, at Cherbourg, and made the land just before sunset. We stood in at once, and found the spotsman at his post, with a signal that all was clear. The night was pitchy dark, though calm; and, except the signals, not a light was shown. About fifty men were stationed on shore, to carry the things inland.
“We set to work as fast as possible getting the things into the boats, and all went on well for some time. I, with some others, in one of the boats, had left the cutter, when a pistol was flashed from the shore as a signal for us to return; but, before we had pulled many strokes, there was a rapid discharge of fire-arms, while loud shouts, oaths, and cries arose: torches were kindled, and by their light we could see our friends on shore mixed in a hot fight with a number of red-coats.
“As soon as we made out what was going forward, we pulled back as fast as we could to the vessel, to put the bales into her, intending to return to assist our people; but, before we reached her, a splash of oars was heard close to us, and in a moment a large boat was alongside our galley. At the same time, a loud voice ordered us to surrender; but, as we were not the chaps to do that in a hurry, our coxswain drew his pistol, and fired it towards the boat. A deep groan was the answer, and immediately other pistols were fired on each side. By the flashes we saw a number of men, their cutlasses shining brightly, about to spring into our boat; but, at the same time, we knew that we must beat them or die. They were brave fellows, and would, perhaps, have taken us all; but we were fighting with halters round our necks; for after the resistance we had offered, we knew that, if made prisoners, we should be hung. They had already cut down two or three of our people, when another of our boats came up, and attacked them on the other side. There was now little chance for them: we dared not save them if we would. They fought bravely to the last—every one of them was killed.
“They were countrymen, and were only doing their duty. That night’s work, sir, weighed like lead upon my conscience, till other crimes drove the thoughts of it out, and my heart became seared. It is only now that I am about to quit the world that my conscience is roused up. It is very terrible, sir. My life seems a dreadful dream; and I cannot even now believe that I am to die to-morrow to go where I have already sent so many others, not more fit to die than I am. It is too much to think of. I wonder what sort of a place I shall be in to-morrow at this time!” he suddenly exclaimed, after a long silence.
“You must trust in the mercy of One who is all merciful,” I answered, “and repent of your crimes, and then be assured, as was the thief on the cross, you will be forgiven.”
“I wish I thought it might be so, sir,” he observed, “but I have been too wicked—too great a reprobate for pardon; and he—he knows better!—that ghastly figure there!—he shakes his head, and grins at me, mocking at the very idea of it! Oh, that I could have another spell of life to get free of him! Is there any chance of being let off?” he asked, with sudden animation.
“Not the slightest,” I answered. “Do not for a moment indulge in such a hope.”