“There is no doubt that it’s wrong,” the boy said.  “Not wrong like stealing, and lying, and that sort of thing; still it’s wrong, because it’s against the law; and the revenue men, if they come upon a gang landing the tubs, fight with them, and if any are killed they are not blamed for it, so there is no doubt about its being wrong.  Then, on the other hand, no one thinks any the worse of the men that do it, and there is scarce a one, gentle or simple, as won’t buy some of the stuff if he gets a chance, so it can’t be so very wrong.  It must be great fun to be a smuggler, to be always dodging the king’s cutters, and running cargoes under the nose of the officers ashore.  There is some excitement in a life like that.”

“There is plenty of excitement in fishing,” one of the boys said sturdily.  “If you had been out in that storm last March, you would have had as much excitement as you liked.  For twelve hours we expected to go down every minute, and we were half our time bailing for our lives.”

An approving murmur broke from the others, who were all, with the exception of the one addressed as Jim Walsham, of the fisher class.  His clothing differed but little from that of the rest.  His dark blue pilot trousers were old and sea stained, his hands and face were dyed brown with exposure to the sun and the salt water; but there was something, in his manner and tone of voice, which showed that a distinction existed.

James Walsham was, indeed, the son of the late doctor of the village, who had died two years previously.  Dr. Walsham had been clever in his profession, but circumstances were against him.  Sidmouth and its neighbourhood were so healthy, that his patients were few and far between; and when he died, of injuries received from being thrown over his horse’s head, when the animal one night trod on a stone coming down the hill into Sidmouth, his widow and son were left almost penniless.

Mrs. Walsham was, fortunately, an energetic woman, and a fortnight after her husband’s death, she went round among the tradesmen of the place and the farmers of the neighbourhood, and announced her intention of opening a school for girls.  She had received a good education, being the daughter of a clergyman, and she soon obtained enough pupils to enable her to pay her way, and to keep up the pretty home in which her husband lived in the outskirts of Sidmouth.

If she would have taken boarders, she could have obtained far higher terms, for good schools were scarce; but this she would not do, and her pupils all lived within distances where they could walk backwards and forwards to their homes.  Her evenings she devoted to her son, and, though the education which she was enabled to give him would be considered meagre, indeed, in these days of universal cramming, he learned as much as the average boy of the period.

He would have learned more had he followed her desires, and devoted the time when she was engaged in teaching to his books; but this he did not do.  For a few hours in the day he would work vigorously at his lessons.  The rest of his time he spent either on the seashore, or in the boats of the fishermen; and he could swim, row, or handle a boat under sail in all weather, as well or better than any lad in the village of his own age.