The entrance to the cave was at last found at a spot where he and his comrades had many times traversed.  It was so ingeniously concealed that they might have searched until the day of doom, and it could never have been found but for the agency that conveyed him to the spot.  Tradition speaks of it being a long subterranean passage, running east to west, and opening out close to a road that was quite accessible to carts.  It was honeycombed with compartments, and so carefully were they constructed that only the initiated could have discovered their locality.  Some of the cells still contained quantities of contraband, so that the Board of Customs made a good haul.

Turnbull frequently rubbed shoulders with men and women who eloquently declaimed against the smugglers and their allies.  He knew these people were in the inner circle of the traffic.  He realized also that it was not good policy to let them see that he knew that they were merely acting a part.  He might some day have to make use of them.  There was a section who never disguised their antipathy to him.  They saw that through him the day of smuggling on that part of the coast was well-nigh over—­if not over altogether.  It was he who had been the instrument of emptying the vaults of treasure which they regarded as legitimately theirs, and closing them to further enterprise.  It was, in fact, the system that he represented that was paralyzing their honest efforts of contributing to their means of subsistence!  These were only some of the many indictments proclaimed against him and his colleagues.  The aggrieved ones strolled about with an air of injured virtue, and their ferocious looks and veiled threats at the intruder as he passed along betokened the belief in their prescriptive right to plunder the Revenue.  I think it is Macaulay who says that “no man is so merciless as he who is under a strong self-delusion.”

The seizure of the storehouse gave a staggering blow to the “fair-traders,” but it did not prevent them from making another desperate attempt to land their wares, and also to have their revenge by destroying a few of her Majesty’s servants.  On dark nights the horn lanterns were seen about the links, the flare-light flashed across the sea, and the curlew’s shrill call was heard.  These signs were now known to the Preventive staff; but they also had their signs and their means of conveying news, so that when the low, sneaking black lugger again appeared, they were ready for the fray.

There she was, snugly anchored in the sleepy bay.  The first boat-load had left her side.  The slow, dull sound of the horses’ hoofs vibrated through the hollows, and the night wind from the fields of sleep blew softly over the rustling bents, causing a weird, peaceful lullaby.  The boat’s bow is run on to the beach, a dozen or more men jump from her into the water and haul her up as far as the weight of the cargo will allow.  They then commence to discharge.  Again the curlew’s call is heard,