“Why, you see, sir, I’ve done something in the free-trade line myself, I own, and he’s lent me a hand at it.”
“What! you don’t mean to say that Mr Sandgate is a smuggler?” I asked.
“Yes, I do, sir, though, and many’s the rich crop he’s run in that ere craft of his.”
“Impossible! why she’s a yacht,” I replied.
“No, sir, she’s only a private vessel at the best, and if she was a yacht, she’s not the only one as—. Howsomdever, I won’t say any thing again yachts. It’s the lookout of the other members of the club that they don’t smuggle, and more’s the shame of them who does.”
“But I thought that smugglers were so bound together that they would never speak against each other,” I observed.
“So they are, sir; and though that Mr Sandgate has no reason to expect any favour from me, for reasons he well knows, I wouldn’t speak to anybody else of him as I do but to you, or my master, because I don’t think he’s fit company for such as you, sir, and that’s the truth.”
Thinking over what Griffiths had told me, I determined in future to be on my guard against Sandgate. I, however, did not repeat what I had heard to any one except Harcourt. In the afternoon we returned to Cowes, leaving Miss Manners with the Granvilles.
Harcourt having promised to pay some friends a visit at Torquay, the next morning we got under way, and, though the winds were light, we got there on the following day. Taking all points into consideration, I think Torquay and its surrounding scenery is the most beautiful part of England. Our stay was short, for Harcourt was anxious to get back to Cowes, as he had found metal more attractive than even Devonshire could afford.
We reached Cowes late in the day, and after dinner went to the Granvilles’, for we were now on sufficiently intimate terms to do so. I missed Emily from their circle, and inquired if she was still staying with them.