The Greatest Works of E. Nesbit (220+ Titles in One Illustrated Edition). Эдит Несбит

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ he was pleased and proud to do.

      It was not a coastguard that told us about the smugglers. It was a very old man that we met two or three miles along the beach. He was leaning against a boat that was wrong way up on the shingle, and smoking the strongest tobacco Oswald's young nose has ever met. I think it must have been Black Jack. We said, "How do you do?" and Alice said, "Do you mind if we sit down near you?"

      "Not me," replied the aged seafarer. We could see directly that he was this by his jersey and his sea-boots.

      The girls sat down on the beach, but we boys leaned against the boat like the seafaring one. We hoped he would join in conversation, but at first he seemed too proud. And there was something dignified about him, bearded and like a Viking, that made it hard for us to begin.

      At last he took his pipe out of his mouth and said—

      "Here's a precious Quakers' meeting! You didn't set down here just for to look at me?"

      "I'm sure you look very nice," Dora said.

      "Same to you, miss, I'm sure," was the polite reply.

      "We want to talk to you awfully," said Alice, "if you don't mind?"

      "Talk away," said he.

      And then, as so often happens, no one could think of anything to say.

      Suddenly Noël said, "I think you look nice too, but I think you look as though you had a secret history. Have you?"

      "Not me," replied the Viking-looking stranger. "I ain't got no history, nor jog-graphy neither. They didn't give us that much schooling when I was a lad."

      "Oh!" replied Noël; "but what I really meant was, were you ever a pirate or anything?"

      "Never in all my born," replied the stranger, now thoroughly roused; "I'd scorn the haction. I was in the navy, I was, till I lost the sight of my eye, looking too close at gunpowder. Pirates is snakes, and they ought to be killed as such."

      We felt rather sorry, for though of course it is very wrong to be a pirate, it is very interesting too. Things are often like this. That is one of the reasons why it is so hard to be truly good.

      Dora was the only one who was pleased. She said—

      "Yes, pirates are very wrong. And so are highwaymen and smugglers."

      "I don't know about highwaymen," the old man replied; "they went out afore my time, worse luck; but my father's great-uncle by the mother's side, he see one hanged once. A fine upstanding fellow he was, and made a speech while they was a-fitting of the rope. All the women was snivelling and sniffing and throwing bokays at him."

      "Did any of the bouquets reach him?" asked the interested Alice.

      "Not likely," said the old man. "Women can't never shy straight. But I shouldn't wonder but what them posies heartened the chap up a bit. An afterwards they was all a-fightin' to get a bit of the rope he was hung with, for luck."

      "Do tell us some more about him," said all of us but Dora.

      "I don't know no more about him. He was just hung—that's all. They was precious fond o' hangin' in them old far-away times."

      "Did you ever know a smuggler?" asked H.O.—"to speak to, I mean?"

      "Ah, that's tellings," said the old man, and he winked at us all.

      So then we instantly knew that the coastguards had been mistaken when they said there were no more smugglers now, and that this brave old man would not betray his comrades, even to friendly strangers like us. But of course he could not know exactly how friendly we were. So we told him.

      Oswald said—

      "We love smugglers. We wouldn't even tell a word about it if you would only tell us."

      "There used to be lots of smuggling on these here coasts when my father was a boy," he said; "my own father's cousin, his father took to the smuggling, and he was a doin' so well at it, that what does he do, but goes and gets married, and the Preventives they goes and nabs him on his wedding-day, and walks him straight off from the church door, and claps him in Dover Jail."

      "Oh, his poor wife," said Alice, "whatever did she do?"

      "She didn't do nothing," said the old man. "It's a woman's place not to do nothing till she's told to. He'd done so well at the smuggling, he'd saved enough by his honest toil to take a little public. So she sets there awaitin' and attendin' to customers—for well she knowed him, as he wasn't the chap to let a bit of a jail stand in the way of his station in life. Well, it was three weeks to a day after the wedding, there comes a dusty chap to the 'Peal of Bells' door. That was the sign over the public, you understand."

      We said we did, and breathlessly added, "Go on!"

      "A dusty chap he was; got a beard and a patch over one eye, and he come of a afternoon when there was no one about the place but her.

      "'Hullo, missis,' says he; 'got a room for a quiet chap?'

      "'I don't take in no men-folks,' says she; 'can't be bothered with 'em.'

      "'You'll be bothered with me, if I'm not mistaken,' says he.

      "'Bothered if I will,' says she.

      "'Bothered if you won't,' says he, and with that he ups with his hand and off comes the black patch, and he pulls off the beard and gives her a kiss and a smack on the shoulder. She always said she nearly died when she see it was her new-made bridegroom under the beard.

      "So she took her own man in as a lodger, and he went to work up at Upton's Farm with his beard on, and of nights he kept up the smuggling business. And for a year or more no one knowd as it was him. But they got him at last."

      "What became of him?" We all asked it.

      "He's dead," said the old man. "But, Lord love you, so's everybody as lived in them far-off old ancient days—all dead—Preventives too—and smugglers and gentry: all gone under the daisies."

      We felt quite sad. Oswald hastily asked if there wasn't any smuggling now.

      "Not hereabouts," the old man answered, rather quickly for him. "Don't you go for to think it. But I did know a young chap—quite young he is with blue eyes—up Sunderland way it was. He'd got a goodish bit o' baccy and stuff done up in a ole shirt. And as he was a-goin' up off of the beach a coastguard jumps out at him, and he says to himself, 'All u. p. this time,' says he. But out loud he says, 'Hullo, Jack, that you? I thought you was a tramp,' says he.

      "'What you got in that bundle?' says the coastguard.

      "'My washing,' says he, 'and a couple pairs of old boots.'

      "Then the coastguard he says, 'Shall I give you a lift with it?' thinking in himself the other chap wouldn't part if it was anything it oughtn't to be. But that young chap was too sharp. He says to himself, 'If I don't he'll nail me, and if I do—well, there's just a chance.'

      "So he hands over the bundle, and the coastguard he thinks it must be all right, and he carries it all the way up to his mother's for him, feeling sorry for the mean suspicions he'd had about the poor СКАЧАТЬ