how are we to help it? The London Trader is
too large for the purpose, and she is under suspicion now. I tell you
everything, Daniel, because I know that you are a true-hearted fellow,
and far above all blabbing. I have thought once or twice of obtaining
leave to purchase a stout and handy pilot-boat, with her licence and all
that transferred to us, and so running to and fro when needful. The only
risk then would be from perils of the sea; and even the pressmen dare
not meddle with a pilot-boat. By-the-by, I have heard that you knocked
some of them about. Tugwell, you might have got us all into sad
trouble."

"Was I to think of what I was doing, Squire Carne, when they wanted
to make a slave of me? I would serve King George with a good heart, in
spite of all that father has said against it. But it must be with a free
will, Squire Carne, and not to be tied hand and foot to it. How would
you like that yourself, sir?"

"Well, I think I should have done as you did, Dan, if I had been a
British sailor. But as to this pilot-boat, I must have a bold and good
seaman to command it. A man who knows the coast, and is not afraid of
weather. Of course we should expect to pay good wages; 3 pounds a week,
perhaps, and a guinea for every bag of letters landed safe. There are
plenty of men who would jump at such a chance, Dan."

"I'll be bound there are, sir. And it is more than I am worth, if you
mean offering the place to me. It would suit me wonderful, if I was
certain that the job was honest."

"Daniel Tugwell"--Carne spoke with great severity--"I will not lose my
temper, for I am sure you mean no insult. But you must be of a very low,
suspicious nature, and quite unfit for any work of a lofty and unselfish
order, if you can imagine that a man in my position, a man of my large
sentiments--"

"Oh, no, sir, no; it was not at all that"--Dan scarcely knew how to
tell what it was--"it was nothing at all of that manner of thinking. I
heartily ask your pardon, sir, if it seemed to go in that way."

"Don't do that," replied Carne, "because I can make allowances. I know
what a fine nature is, and how it takes alarm at shadows. I am always
tender with honest scruples, because I find so many of them in myself.
I should not have been pleased with you, if you had accepted my
offer--although so advantageous, and full of romantic interest--until
you were convinced of its honourable nature. I have no time for
argument, and I am sorry that y