it was one bright spring morning after getting well on with his latin reading with the vicar, that lance thought he would go down to the cliff and see what luck hezz had had with the trammel overnight.
suddenly he stopped short and stood staring down at the cliff shelf, hardly believing it was true, for there below him in a row stood four great pairs of stiff flannel trousers in four pairs of heavy fisherman's boots, just as if the men's wives had put them out in the sunshine against the old wooden rail to sweeten and dry out some of the damp salt, in case their wearers should come back.
but lance penwith had lived there too long to be deceived by such a sight as that, and uttering a cry of amazement he began trying to break his neck by a heavy fall before he arrived safely on the broad shelf, to yell out, "ship ahoy!"
then, and then only, did the biggest and broadest pair of trousers begin to move, and a great shaggy head turned to show a dark mahogany face fringed with stiff white hair.
"come back!" shouted lance; "and you too, billy; and you two."
"master lahnce, lad!" cried the old man, making a grab at the boy's hand with one of his huge paws, clapping the other upon it, and working it up and down slowly as he said, "the old 'ooman's told me all about it, and i says, humble and thankful like, god bless yer!"
"and so says all on us," chorused his companions.
"that's right, my sons; that's right," growled the old man.
"but you've come back," cried lance, trying in vain to free his hand, for the others wanted to shake it, and billy poltree had to be content with the left, while the other men ornamented the boy with fleshly epaulettes in the shape of a hand apiece on the shoulders.
"ay, my lad, we've come back," said old poltree solemnly, "for it's weary months and months as we four has been in desert lands up the eastern parts and up the norrard coasties; but it's allus been with a long look-out for the native land as we felt as we must see once more afore we died. we bore it all as long as we could, and then we said we'd get home and see our wives and bairns, and then they might take us and send us away across the main, for it arn't been living, has it, my sons?"
there was a tremendous no! and plenty of answering of eagerly put questions before lance could get away and run panting up to where the squire and his mother were sitting at home.
"they've come back—they've come back!" he shouted, and then he stood as if struck dumb at the thought of what he had done—raced off to tell the only magistrate for miles round that the fugitive smugglers had returned as if to give themselves up.
"master lahnce, lad!" cried the old man, making a grab at the boy's hand.
a few questions followed, and mrs. penwith sat gazing anxiously from husband to son and back again, for the same thought occurred to her as had flashed upon her boy—"what will he say?" but it was something quite different from anything they expected.
"come back, lance? yes, you've come back, and the dinner is getting cold. come along."
lance stared.
but his father said something more before they left the table.
"so those smuggling rascals have come back? well, i always expected they would. a nice long lesson they've had. well, knowing what i do, i shall not take any steps unless i am obliged by pressure from falmouth. then, of course, i must. they are your friends, lance, not mine; and i suppose they have quite given up smuggling."
"yes, father," cried the boy; "old poltree told me, with tears in his eyes, that if he had known what was to come of it he would never have touched keg or bale. they'll never smuggle again."
"let them prove it while they have a chance, my boy; it may tell in their favour when they are arrested and sent for trial."
"but this is a very out-of-the-way place," he said afterwards to mrs. penwith, "and i don't think any one will trouble them, for the matter is almost forgotten now."
"but ought you to——"
"where's that boy?" said the squire, frowning.
lance had rushed off again to tell his friends on the cliff how his father had taken their return.
