Mr. Wilks had been on the point of mentioning that James was missing, but a vague idea that he might, in some way, be mixed up with the events of the previous night, checked the question on his lips; and yet he thought, as the officer walked away, it was not probable.  Had James been foolish enough to take part in such a business, he would either have been taken prisoner, or would, after he escaped, have returned home.  He had evidently not been taken prisoner, or the officer would have been sure to mention it.

Much puzzled, he walked slowly back to the fishermen.  Some of the boats had already pushed off.  He went up to three of the men, whose boat, being higher up than the rest, would not be afloat for another quarter of an hour.

“Look here, lads,” he said.  “My young friend Jim Walsham is missing this morning, and hasn’t been at home all night.  As none of the fishing boats put out in the evening he cannot have gone to sea.  Can any of you tell me anything about him?”

The men gave no answer.

“You need not be afraid of speaking to me, you know,” he went on, “and it’s no business of mine whether any of the men on the shore were concerned in that affair.  The lieutenant has just been telling me of last night; but hearing of that, and finding Jim is missing, I can’t help thinking there is some connection between the two things.  Nothing you say to me will go further, that I can promise you; but the lad’s mother will be in a terrible way.  I can’t make it out, for I know that, if he had anything to do with this smuggling business, he would have told me.  Again, if he was there and got away, he would naturally have come straight home, for his absence would only throw suspicion upon him.”

“Well, Mr. Wilks,” the youngest of the sailors said, “I don’t know nothing about it myself.  No one does, so far as I know, but I have heard say this morning as how he was there or thereabouts; but don’t you let out as I told you, ’cause they would want to know who I heard it from.”

“You can rely upon my silence, my lad, and here’s half a guinea to drink my health between you.  But can’t you tell me a little more?”

“Well, sir, they do say as how it war Mr. Jim as came running down into the middle of them on the beach, shouting the alarm, with the revenue men close at his heels.  I don’t say as it were he—­likely enough it weren’t—­but that’s the talk, and that’s all I have heared about the matter.  How he came for to know of it, or how he got there, no one knows, for sartin he has had nought to do with any landings afore.  He was a lot among us, but I know as he never was told about it; for, though everyone would have trusted Jim, still, seeing how he was placed, with his mother up at the Hall, and the squire a magistrate, it was thought better as he shouldn’t be let into it.  Everyone on the shore here likes Jim.”

“But if he was there, and he hasn’t been taken prisoner—­and I am sure the lieutenant would have told me if he was—­why shouldn’t he have got home?”