"One crule brute hit him a blo on the lips and he sprang back, snarling with rage.  In less time than wot it takes to rite this he had sprang at his torturer’s throte and his teeth met in one mighty bite.  His torturer dropped ded and lifless at his feet.

"‘Ho!’ cried Dick Savage, throwing back his head, proud and defiant again, ’So dies any of you wot insults my proud manhood.  I will meet my teeth in your throtes.’

"For a minit they stood trembling, then one, bolder than the rest, lept forward and tide Dick Savage’s hands with rope behind his back.  Another took from his pockets bottles of beer and tobacco in large quantities.

"‘Ho!’ they cried exulting.  ’Ho!  Dick Savage the smugler caught at last!’

"Dick Savage gave one proud and defiant laugh, and, bringing his tide hands over his hed he bit the rope with one mighty bite.

"‘Ho! ho!’ he cried, throwing back his proud hed, ’Ho, ho!  You dirty dogs!’

"Then, draining to the dregs a large bottle of poison he had concealed in his busum he fell ded and lifless at there feet.’"

* * * * *

There was a timid knock at the door and William, scowling impatiently, rose to open it.

“What d’you want?” he said curtly.

A little voice answered from the dusk.

“It’s me—­Peggy.  I’ve come to see how you are, William.  They don’t know I’ve come.  I was awful sick after that seaweed this morning, William.”

William looked at her with a superior frown.

“Go away,” he said, “I’m busy.”

“What you doing?” she said, poking her little curly head into the doorway.

“I’m writin’ a tale.”

She clasped her hands.

“Oh, how lovely!  Oh, William, do read it to me.  I’d love it!”

Mollified, he opened the door and she took her seat on his buckskin on the floor, and William sat by the candle, clearing his throat for a minute before he began.  During the reading she never took her eyes off him.  At the end she drew a deep breath.

“Oh, William, it’s beautiful.  William, are there smugglers now?”

“Oh, yes.  Millions,” he said carelessly.

“Here?”

“Of course there are!”

She went to the door and looked out at the dusk.

“I’d love to see one.  What do they smuggle, William?”

He came and joined her at the door, walking with a slight swagger as became a man of literary fame.

“Oh, beer an’ cigars an’ things. Millions of them.”

A furtive figure was passing the door, casting suspicious glances to left and right.  He held his coat tightly round him, clasping something inside it.

“I expect that’s one,” said William casually.

They watched the figure out of sight.

Suddenly William’s eyes shone.