jokes with Moggie, all in his kind way, saying that if he were not to
be married himself soon, he would feel quite indignant and jealous at
the happiness of such a rascal as her husband.

Oh! he was happy--Monsieur the Captain--he had brought Moggie a
beautiful shawl; and to Rene, he had given a splendid watch, telling
him to keep count of the hours of his unmerited bliss. Alas, this
morning all had been different indeed! The captain looked another man;
his face was as white as linen. The very look of him would have told
any one that a misfortune had occurred. Rene did not quite understand
it himself, but this is what had taken place:

The captain had left Scarthey on foot late in the evening, and when he
returned (he was not long away) he bade Rene again not to mind what he
heard during the night; and, in faith, once more there had been a real
noise of the devil; men coming to and fro, a deal of rowing on the
water, away and back again, in the early night and then once more
before dawn.

"But I was not unquiet," said Rene, "I knew they had come for the
remainder of what Mr. Smith was pleased to call his provisions. From
our room I could see by the light on the stairs that the lamp was
burning well, and Moggie slept like a child, so sound, she never
moved. Just before the rising sun, I had got up and put out the lamp,
and was going to bed again, when there came thumps of the devil at the
lower door. Well knowing that the captain had his own way of
entering--for he had spent many days in finding out all sorts of droll
passages in the ruins--I was quite seized; and as I hurried down, the
thumps came again and great cries for the lighthouse-keeper. And, your
honour, when I unbarred the door, there was a man in uniform whom I
did not know, and he asked me, grumbling, if I knew of the pretty
doings on the beach, whilst I slept like pig, he said--Of course I
made the astonished as his honour may imagine: I knew nothing, had
heard nothing, though my heart was beating like to burst not knowing
what was coming. Then he ordered me to lend a hand and bring a ladder
to carry away one of his men who had been murdered by the smugglers,
he said. And there, on the sands, in front of the small cave was
another man, in a blue coat too, watching over the body of one who was
stretched out, quite tranquil, his face covered with blood and his
eyes closed. They are gone, says the gross man. And I was glad, as
your honour may well think, to