“We didn’t know as he hadn’t got home, did us, Bill?” the fisherman appealed to one of his comrades.

“No,” the other said.  “We thought likely he had got safely away with the rest.  It war a dark night, and I expect as everyone was too busy looking after himself to notice about others.”

“He may have been wounded,” the old soldier said anxiously, “and may be in hiding in some house near the place.”

The fisherman was silent.  Such a thing was, of course, possible.

“He might that,” one of the sailors said doubtfully, “and yet I don’t think it.  The chase was a hot one, and I don’t think anyone, wounded so bad as he couldn’t make his way home, would have got away.  I should say as it wur more likely as he got on board one of the boats.  It seems to me as though he might have come to warn us—­that is to say, to warn them, I mean—­just to do em a good turn, as he was always ready to do if he had the chance.  But he wouldn’t have had anything to do with the scrimmage, and might have been standing, quiet like, near the boats, when the other lot came along the shore, and then, seeing as the game was up, he might, likely enough, have jumped on board and gone off to the lugger.”

“That is possible,” Mr. Wilks said.  “Anyhow, I will go off at once, and make inquiries at all the houses within a mile or so of the landing place.”

Chapter 8:  Discharged.

Contrary to his usual habits of punctuality, Mr. Wilks did not return to luncheon at the Hall, and it was two hours later before he came in, looking fagged and anxious.  He had been to all the farm houses within two miles of the scene of the fight, and had ascertained, for certain, that Jim was not lying wounded at any of them.  At first, his inquiries had everywhere been coldly received.  There was scarce a farm house near the coast, but the occupants had relations with the smugglers, assisting with their carts and men at the landings, or having hiding places where goods could be stowed away.  At first, therefore, all professed entire ignorance of the events of the previous night; but, when persuaded by the earnestness of the old soldier’s manner that his mission was a friendly one, they became more communicative, and even owned that some of their men had been taken prisoners and marched to Weymouth; but none of them had heard of any wounded man being in hiding.

Convinced, at last, that James must have gone off to the lugger, Mr. Wilks returned to Sidmouth, a prey to great anxiety.  Everything depended now on whether the lugger was captured.  If so, James would have to stand his trial for being concerned in the fight on the beach, and, as two of the revenue men had been killed, his sentence might be a heavy one.

If she got away, all would be well.  They would doubtless hear by letter from Jim, and it would be better that he should not return at present to Sidmouth, but should at once take up his residence in London, and commence his studies there.