He met the squire just as the latter was starting for Sidmouth.

“Well, Wilks, we began to think that you were lost,” he said, cheerfully.  “Aggie was downstairs to lunch, and was mightily offended that you should not be there at her first appearance.

“But you look tired and fagged.  Has anything gone wrong?”

“Things have gone very wrong, squire.”

And he related to his friend all the news that he had gathered, and his conviction that James Walsham was on board the lugger.

“This is a pretty kettle of fish,” the squire said irritably.  “What on earth did the boy mean by getting himself mixed up with such an affair as that?”

“It is a foolish business, squire,” the old soldier agreed.  “But we can’t expect wise heads on young shoulders, I suppose.  He, somehow or other, learnt the surprise which the revenue men intended, and as most of his friends, the fishermen, would probably be concerned in it, he went to give them notice, intending, no doubt, to go quietly back again before the revenue men arrived.  I don’t know that he’s altogether to be blamed in the matter.  Most young fellows would do the same.”

“Well, I suppose they would,” the squire agreed reluctantly; “but it is a most awkward business.  If the lad gets caught, and gets two or three years’ imprisonment, it will ruin his prospects in life.  His mother will be broken hearted over the business, and I am sure Aggie will take it terribly to heart.  They were great friends of old, though she hasn’t seen much of him for the last two or three years, and, of course, that affair of the other day has made quite a hero of him.”

“We must hope the lugger will get safely over to France,” his companion said.  “Then no great harm will have been done.”

“We must hope so,” the squire assented moodily.  “Confound the young jackanapes, turning everything upside down, and upsetting us all with his mad-brain freaks.”

Mrs. Walsham was greatly distressed, when the news was broken to her by Mr. Wilks, and Aggie cried so that the squire, at last, said she must go straight up to bed unless she stopped, for she would be making herself ill again.  When she was somewhat pacified, the matter was discussed in every light, but the only conclusion to be arrived at was, that their sole hope rested in the hugger getting safely off.

“Of course, my dear madam,” the squire said, “if they are taken I will do my best to get a pardon for your son.  I am afraid he will have to stand his trial with the rest; but I think that, with the representations I will make as to his good character, I may get a mitigation, anyhow, of a sentence.  If they find out that it was he who gave the alarm, there will be no hope of a pardon; but if that doesn’t come out, one would represent his being there as a mere boyish freak of adventure, and, in that case, I might get him a free pardon.  You must not take the matter too seriously to heart.  It was a foolish business, and that is the worst that can be said of it.”