E LIVING LEFT AMONG THE DEAD--A WILD CHASE ON A WILD NIGHT STOPPED BY
A GHOST.

On turning the corner of one of those houses on the beach of Deal which
stand so close to the sea that in many cases they occupy common ground
with the boats, Tommy found himself suddenly close to a group of men,
one of whom, a very tall man, was addressing the others in an excited
tone.

"I'll tell 'ee wot it is, lads, let's put 'im in a sack an' leave him in
the Great Chapel Field to cool hisself." [The "Great Chapel Field" was
the name formerly applied by the boatmen to Saint George's Churchyard.]

"Sarve him right, the beggar," said another man, with a low laugh, "he's
spoilt our game many a night. What say, boys? heave 'im shoulder high?"

The proposal was unanimously agreed to, and the party went towards an
object which lay recumbent on the ground, near to one of those large
capstans which are used on this part of the Kentish coast to haul up the
boats. The object turned out to be a man, bound hand and foot, and with
a handkerchief tied round the mouth to insure silence. Tommy was so
near that he had no difficulty in recognising in this unfortunate the
person of old Coleman, the member of the coast-guard who had been most
successful in thwarting the plans of the smugglers for some years past.
Rendered somewhat desperate by his prying disposition, they had seized
him on this particular night, during a scuffle, and were now about to
dispose of him in a time-honoured way.

Tommy also discovered that the coast-guard-man's captors were Long
Orrick, Rodney Nick, and a few more of his boatmen acquaintances. He
watched them with much interest as they enveloped Coleman's burly figure
in a huge sack, tied it over his head, and, raising him on their
shoulders bore him away.

Tommy followed at a safe distance, but he soon stopped, observing that
two of the party had fallen behind the rest, engaged apparently in
earnest conversation. They stood still a few minutes under the lee of a
low-roofed cottage. Tommy crept as close to them as possible and
listened.

"Come, Rodney Nick," said one of the two, whose height proclaimed him to
be Long Orrick, "a feller can't talk in the teeth o' sich a gale as
this. Let's stand in the lee o' this old place here, and I'll tell ye
in two minits wot I wants to do. You see that old sinner Jeph refuses
pint-blank to let me use his `hide;' he's become such a hypocrite that
he says he won't encourage sm