labour to those who were cheating the king.  No amount of logic could ever persuade the small farmer that smuggling was in any way immoral, so the coastguard had to combat the cunning of the bold sailors who ran across from Cherbourg, and the still greater cunning of the slouching fellows who signalled his movements from the shore.  This was his training, and when the time came for smuggling to be given over entirely to merchant seamen instead of being carried on by desperadoes, the change left the old officer still ready and resolute, and quick with his pistol.

It was well for the Revenue that one at least of their servants retained the habits and instincts of the ancient race of preventive-men.

One night, just as the tide was flowing, our friend stepped out of his cottage and looked across the bay.  Suddenly he saw a light, which flashed for a short time and then was darkened; another flash came and then another; the flood was pouring south in a sombre stream; there was not a gleam on the water, and the whole sea looked like a huge dark abyss.  From the depths of the troubled blackness the coastguard saw another light flash back in answer to the one which had been waved from the shore; the seaward light was simply like the ordinary mast-head lantern of a fishing-boat; but the coastguard noticed that it was waved three times, as if in answer to a set signal.  He did not quite like the look of things, so he got out a pony from the stables at the Hall and galloped around till he was near the place from which he guessed that the flashes had come.  He lay down amongst the long grass and waited in an agony of expectation for something that might help him to solve the puzzle.  It turned out that a set of fellows had determined to go back to the old ways, and the flash that the coastguard saw from the sea was shown from an ordinary herring-boat which now lay perilously close to the beach.  He saw the black hull wavering like a shadow amid the uncertain gloom and the solemn water.  Presently a hand touched him, and a terrible thrill of momentary terror shook his nerves.  The man that touched him gave a sharp cry and recoiled; before he could utter another sound the coastguard was upon him, and the muzzle of a great horse-pistol was clapped to his face.  The coastguard said:  “Tell me where they are going to land?”

The prostrate man hesitated; whereupon his stern assailant said:  “I’ll give you until I count three!”

The frightened lout stammered:  “They are coming past this way.”

A few long minutes went by, and then the coastguard heard a sound of laboured breathing; this sound came from a horse which was dragging a large hay-cart through the heavy sand.  Two men walked, one on each side of the horse, and a third pushed the cart from behind.  The coastguard man had only two shots to spare, and he did not know in the least whether the men opposed to him were armed or not.  His decision had to be made swiftly.  He was a kind man, fond of dumb