As the goods had all to be carried to Budmouth that night, theexcisemen's next object was to find horses and carts for the journey, andthey went about the village for that purpose. Latimer strode hither andthither with a lump of chalk in his hand, marking broad-arrows sovigorously on every vehicle and set of harness that he came across, thatit seemed as if he would chalk broad-arrows on the very hedges and roads.The owner of every conveyance so marked was bound to give it up forGovernment purposes. Stockdale, who had had enough of the scene, turnedindoors thoughtful and depressed. Lizzy was already there, having comein at the back, though she had not yet taken off her bonnet. She lookedtired, and her mood was not much brighter than his own. They had butlittle to say to each other; and the minister went away and attempted toread; but at this he could not succeed, and he shook the little bell fortea.

Lizzy herself brought in the tray, the girl having run off into thevillage during the afternoon, too full of excitement at the proceedingsto remember her state of life. However, almost before the sad lovers hadsaid anything to each other, Martha came in in a steaming state.

'O, there's such a stoor, Mrs. Newberry and Mr. Stockdale! The king'sexcisemen can't get the carts ready nohow at all! They pulled ThomasBallam's, and William Rogers's, and Stephen Sprake's carts into the road,and off came the wheels, and down fell the carts; and they found therewas no linch-pins in the arms; and then they tried Samuel Shane's waggon,and found that the screws were gone from he, and at last they looked atthe dairyman's cart, and he's got none neither! They have gone now tothe blacksmith's to get some made, but he's nowhere to be found!'

Stockdale looked at Lizzy, who blushed very slightly, and went out of theroom, followed by Martha Sarah. But before they had got through thepassage there was a rap at the front door, and Stockdale recognizedLatimer's voice addressing Mrs. Newberry, who had turned back.

'For God's sake, Mrs. Newberry, have you seen Hardman the blacksmith upthis way? If we could get hold of him, we'd e'en a'most drag him by thehair of his head to his anvil, where he ought to be.'

'He's an idle man, Mr. Latimer,' said Lizzy archly. 'What do you wanthim for?'

'Why, there isn't a horse in the place that has got more than three shoeson, and some have only two. The waggon-wheels be without strakes, andthere's no linch-pins to the carts. What with that, and the bother aboutevery set of harness being out of order, we shan't be off beforenightfall--upon my soul we shan't. 'Tis a rough lot, Mrs. Newberry, thatyou've got about you here; but they'll play at this game once too often,mark my words they will! There's not a man in the parish that don'tdeserve to be whipped.'

It happened that Hardman was at that moment a little further up the lane,smoking his pipe behind a holly-bush. When Latimer had done speaking hewent on in this direction, and Hardman, hearing the exciseman's steps,found curiosity too strong for prudence. He peeped out from the bush atthe very moment that Latimer's glance was on it. There was nothing leftfor him to do but to come forward with unconcern.

'I've been looking for you for the last hour!' said Latimer with a glarein his eye.

'Sorry to hear that,' said Hardman. 'I've been out for a stroll, to lookfor more hid tubs, to deliver 'em up to Gover'ment.'

'O yes, Hardman, we know it,' said Latimer, with withering sarcasm. 'Weknow that you'll deliver 'em up to Gover'ment. We know that all theparish is helping us, and have been all day! Now you please walk alongwith me down to your shop, and kindly let me hire ye in the king's name.'

They went down the lane together; and presently there resounded from thesmithy the ring of a hammer not very briskly swung. However, the cartsand horses were got into some sort of travelling condition, but it wasnot until after the clock had struck six, when the muddy roads wereglistening under the horizontal light of the fading day. The smuggledtubs were soon packed into the vehicles, and Latimer, with three of hisassistants, drove slowly out of the village in the direction of the portof Budmouth, some considerable number of miles distant, the otherexcisemen being left to watch for the remainder of the cargo, which theyknew to have been sunk somewhere between Ringsworth and Lulstead Cove,and to unearth Owlett, the only person clearly implicated by thediscovery of the cave.

Women and children stood at the doors as the carts, each chalked with theGovernment pitchfork, passed in the increasing twilight; and as theystood they looked at the confiscated property with a melancholyexpression that told only too plainly the relation which they bore to thetrade.

'Well, Lizzy,' said Stockdale, when the crackle of the wheels had nearlydied away. 'This is a fit finish to your adventure. I am truly thankfulthat you have got off without suspicion, and the loss only of the liquor.Will you sit down and let me talk to you?'

'By and by,' she said. 'But I must go out now.'

'Not to that horrid shore again?' he said blankly.

'No, not there. I am only going to see the end of this day's business.'

He did not answer to this, and she moved towards the door slowly, as ifwaiting for him to say something more.

'You don't offer to come with me,' she added at last. 'I suppose that'sbecause you hate me after all this?'

'Can you say it, Lizzy, when you know I only want to save you from suchpractices? Come with you of course I will, if it is only to take care ofyou. But why will you go out again?'

'Because I cannot rest indoors. Something is happening, and I must knowwhat. Now, come!' And they went into the dusk together.

When they reached the turnpike-road she turned to the right, and he soonperceived that they were following the direction of the excisemen andtheir load. He had given her his arm, and every now and then shesuddenly pulled it back, to signify that he was to halt a moment andlisten. They had walked rather quickly along the first quarter of amile, and on the second or third time of standing still she said, 'I hearthem ahead--don't you?'

'Yes,' he said; 'I hear the wheels. But what of that?'

'I only want to know if they get clear away from the neighbourhood.'

'Ah,' said he, a light breaking upon him. 'Something desperate is to beattempted!--and now I remember there was not a man about the village whenwe left.'

'Hark!' she murmured. The noise of the cartwheels had stopped, and givenplace to another sort of sound.

''Tis a scuffle!' said Stockdale. 'There'll be murder! Lizzy, let go myarm; I am going on. On my conscience, I must not stay here and donothing!'

'There'll be no murder, and not even a broken head,' she said. 'Our menare thirty to four of them: no harm will be done at all.'

'Then there is an attack!' exclaimed Stockdale; 'and you knew it was tobe. Why should you side with men who break the laws like this?'

'Why should you side with men who take from country traders what theyhave honestly bought wi' their own money in France?' said she firmly.

'They are not honestly bought,' said he.

'They are,' she contradicted. 'I and Owlett and the others paid thirtyshillings for every one of the tubs before they were put on board atCherbourg, and if a king who is nothing to us sends his people to stealour property, we have a right to steal it back again.'

Stockdale did not stop to argue the matter, but went quickly in thedirection of the noise, Lizzy keeping at his side. 'Don't you interfere,will you, dear Richard?' she said anxiously, as they drew near. 'Don'tlet us go any closer: 'tis at Warm'ell Cross where they are seizing 'em.You can do no good, and you may meet with a hard blow!'

'Let us see first what is going on,' he said. But before they had gotmuch further the noise of the cartwheels began again; and Stockdale soonfound that they were coming towards him. In another minute the threecarts came up, and Stockdale and Lizzy stood in the ditch to let thempass.

Instead of being conducted by four men, as had happened when they wentout of the village, the horses and carts were now accompanied by a bodyof from twenty to thirty, all of whom, as Stockdale perceived to hisastonishment, had blackened faces. Among them walked six or eight hugefemale figures, whom, from their wide strides, Stockdale guessed to bemen in disguise. As soon as the party discerned Lizzy and her companionfour or five fell back, and when the carts had passed, came close to thepair.

'There is no walking up this way for the present,' said one of the gauntwomen, who wore curls a foot long, dangling down the sides of her face,in the fashion of the time. Stockdale recognized this lady's voice asOwlett's.

'Why not?' said Stockdale. 'This is the public highway.'

'Now look here, youngster,' said Owlett. 'O, 'tis the Methodistparson!--what, and Mrs. Newberry! Well, you'd better not go up that way,Lizzy. They've all run off, and folks have got their own again.'

The miller then hastened on and joined his comrades. Stockdale and Lizzyalso turned back. 'I wish all this hadn't been forced upon us,' she saidregretfully. 'But if those excisemen had got off with the tubs, half thepeople in the parish would have been in want for the next month or two.'

Stockdale was not paying much attention to her words, and he said, 'Idon't think I can go back like this. Those four poor excisemen may bemurdered for all I know.'

'Murdered!' said Lizzy impatiently. 'We don't do murder here.'

'Well, I shall go as far as Warm'ell Cross to see,' said Stockdaledecisively; and, without wishing her safe home or anything else, theminister turned back. Lizzy stood looking at him till his form wasabsorbed in the shades; and then, with sadness, she went in the directionof Nether-Moynton.

The road was lonely, and after nightfall at this time of the year therewas often not a passer for hours. Stockdale pursued his way withouthearing a sound beyond that of his own footsteps; and in due time hepassed beneath the trees of the plantation which surrounded the Warm'ellCross-road. Before he had reached the point of intersection he heardvoices from the thicket.

'Hoi-hoi-hoi! Help, help!'

The voices were not at all feeble or despairing, but they wereunmistakably anxious. Stockdale had no weapon, and before plunging intothe pitchy darkness of the plantation he pulled a stake from the hedge,to use in case of need. When he got among the trees he shouted--'What'sthe matter--where are you?'

'Here,' answered the voices; and, pushing through the brambles in thatdirection, he came near the objects of his search.

'Why don't you come forward?' said Stockdale.

'We be tied to the trees!'

'Who are you?'

'Poor Will Latimer the exciseman!' said one plaintively. 'Just come andcut these cords, there's a good man. We were afraid nobody would pass byto-night.'

Stockdale soon loosened them, upon which they stretched their limbs andstood at their ease.

'The rascals!' said Latimer, getting now into a rage, though he hadseemed quite meek when Stockdale first came up. ''Tis the same set offellows. I know they were Moynton chaps to a man.'

'But we can't swear to 'em,' said another. 'Not one of 'em spoke.'

'What are you going to do?' said Stockdale.

'I'd fain go back to Moynton, and have at 'em again!' said Latimer.

'So would we!' said his comrades.

'Fight till we die!' said Latimer.

'We will, we will!' said his men.

'But,' said Latimer, more frigidly, as they came out of the plantation,'we don't know that these chaps with black faces were Moynton men? Andproof is a hard thing.'

'So it is,' said the rest.

'And therefore we won't do nothing at all,' said Latimer, with completedispassionateness. 'For my part, I'd sooner be them than we. Theclitches of my arms are burning like fire from the cords those twostrapping women tied round 'em. My opinion is, now I have had time tothink o't, that you may serve your Gover'ment at too high a price. Forthese two nights and days I have not had an hour's rest; and, please God,here's for home-along.'

The other officers agreed heartily to this course; and, thankingStockdale for his timely assistance, they parted from him at the Cross,taking themselves the western road, and Stockdale going back to Nether-Moynton.

During that walk the minister was lost in reverie of the most painfulkind. As soon as he got into the house, and before entering his ownrooms, he advanced to the door of the little back parlour in which Lizzyusually sat with her mother. He found her there alone. Stockdale wentforward, and, like a man in a dream, looked down upon the table thatstood between him and the young woman, who had her bonnet and cloak stillon. As he did not speak, she looked up from her chair at him, withmisgiving in her eye.

'Where are they gone?' he then said listlessly.

'Who?--I don't know. I have seen nothing of them since. I came straightin here.'

'If your men can manage to get off with those tubs, it will be a greatprofit to you, I suppose?'

'A share will be mine, a share my cousin Owlett's, a share to each of thetwo farmers, and a share divided amongst the men who helped us.'

'And you still think,' he went on slowly, 'that you will not give thisbusiness up?'

Lizzy rose, and put her hand upon his shoulder. 'Don't ask that,' shewhispered. 'You don't know what you are asking. I must tell you, thoughI meant not to do it. What I make by that trade is all I have to keep mymother and myself with.'

He was astonished. 'I did not dream of such a thing,' he said. 'I wouldrather have swept the streets, had I been you. What is money comparedwith a clear conscience?'

'My conscience is clear. I know my mother, but the king I have neverseen. His dues are nothing to me. But it is a great deal to me that mymother and I should live.'

'Marry me, and promise to give it up. I will keep your mother.'

'It is good of you,' she said, trembling a little. 'Let me think of itby myself. I would rather not answer now.'

She reserved her answer till the next day, and came into his room with asolemn face. 'I cannot do what you wished!' she said passionately. 'Itis too much to ask. My whole life ha' been passed in this way.' Herwords and manner showed that before entering she had been struggling withherself in private, and that the contention had been strong.

Stockdale turned pale, but he spoke quietly. 'Then, Lizzy, we must part.I cannot go against my principles in this matter, and I cannot make myprofession a mockery. You know how I love you, and what I would do foryou; but this one thing I cannot do.'

'But why should you belong to that profession?' she burst out. 'I havegot this large house; why can't you marry me, and live here with us, andnot be a Methodist preacher any more? I assure you, Richard, it is noharm, and I wish you could only see it as I do! We only carry it on inwinter: in summer it is never done at all. It stirs up one's dull lifeat this time o' the year, and gives excitement, which I have got so usedto now that I should hardly know how to do 'ithout it. At nights, whenthe wind blows, instead of being dull and stupid, and not noticingwhether it do blow or not, your mind is afield, even if you are notafield yourself; and you are wondering how the chaps are getting on; andyou walk up and down the room, and look out o' window, and then you goout yourself, and know your way about as well by night as by day, andhave hairbreadth escapes from old Latimer and his fellows, who are toostupid ever to really frighten us, and only make us a bit nimble.'

'He frightened you a little last night, anyhow: and I would advise you todrop it before it is worse.'

She shook her head. 'No, I must go on as I have begun. I was born toit. It is in my blood, and I can't be cured. O, Richard, you cannotthink what a hard thing you have asked, and how sharp you try me when youput me between this and my love for 'ee!'

Stockdale was leaning with his elbow on the mantelpiece, his hands overhis eyes. 'We ought never to have met, Lizzy,' he said. 'It was an illday for us! I little thought there was anything so hopeless andimpossible in our engagement as this. Well, it is too late now to regretconsequences in this way. I have had the happiness of seeing you andknowing you at least.'

'You dissent from Church, and I dissent from State,' she said. 'And Idon't see why we are not well matched.'

He smiled sadly, while Lizzy remained looking down, her eyes beginning tooverflow.

That was an unhappy evening for both of them, and the days that followedwere unhappy days. Both she and he went mechanically about theiremployments, and his depression was marked in the village by more thanone of his denomination with whom he came in contact. But Lizzy, whopassed her days indoors, was unsuspected of being the cause: for it wasgenerally understood that a quiet engagement to marry existed between herand her cousin Owlett, and had existed for some time.

Thus uncertainly the week passed on; till one morning Stockdale said toher: 'I have had a letter, Lizzy. I must call you that till I am gone.'

'Gone?' said she blankly.

'Yes,' he said. 'I am going from this place. I felt it would be betterfor us both that I should not stay after what has happened. In fact, Icouldn't stay here, and look on you from day to day, without becomingweak and faltering in my course. I have just heard of an arrangement bywhich the other minister can arrive here in about a week; and let me goelsewhere.'

That he had all this time continued so firmly fixed in his resolutioncame upon her as a grievous surprise. 'You never loved me!' she saidbitterly.

'I might say the same,' he returned; 'but I will not. Grant me onefavour. Come and hear my last sermon on the day before I go.'

Lizzy, who was a church-goer on Sunday mornings, frequently attendedStockdale's chapel in the evening with the rest of the double-minded; andshe promised.

It became known that Stockdale was going to leave, and a good many peopleoutside his own sect were sorry to hear it. The intervening days flewrapidly away, and on the evening of the Sunday which preceded the morningof his departure Lizzy sat in the chapel to hear him for the last time.The little building was full to overflowing, and he took up the subjectwhich all had expected, that of the contraband trade so extensivelypractised among them. His hearers, in laying his words to their ownhearts, did not perceive that they were most particularly directedagainst Lizzy, till the sermon waxed warm, and Stockdale nearly brokedown with emotion. In truth his own earnestness, and her sad eyeslooking up at him, were too much for the young man's equanimity. Hehardly knew how he ended. He saw Lizzy, as through a mist, turn and goaway with the rest of the congregation; and shortly afterwards followedher home.

She invited him to supper, and they sat down alone, her mother having, aswas usual with her on Sunday nights, gone to bed early.

'We will part friends, won't we?' said Lizzy, with forced gaiety, andnever alluding to the sermon: a reticence which rather disappointed him.

'We will,' he said, with a forced smile on his part; and they sat down.

It was the first meal that they had ever shared together in their lives,and probably the last that they would so share. When it was over, andthe indifferent conversation could no longer be continued, he arose andtook her hand. 'Lizzy,' he said, 'do you say we must part--do you?'

'You do,' she said solemnly. 'I can say no more.'

'Nor I,' said he. 'If that is your answer, good-bye!'

Stockdale bent over her and kissed her, and she involuntarily returnedhis kiss. 'I shall go early,' he said hurriedly. 'I shall not see youagain.'

And he did leave early. He fancied, when stepping forth into the greymorning light, to mount the van which was to carry him away, that he sawa face between the parted curtains of Lizzy's window, but the light wasfaint, and the panes glistened with wet; so he could not be sure.Stockdale mounted the vehicle, and was gone; and on the following Sundaythe new minister preached in the chapel of the Moynton Wesleyans.

One day, two years after the parting, Stockdale, now settled in a midlandtown, came into Nether-Moynton by carrier in the original way. Joggingalong in the van that afternoon he had put questions to the driver, andthe answers that he received interested the minister deeply. The resultof them was that he went without the least hesitation to the door of hisformer lodging. It was about six o'clock in the evening, and the sametime of year as when he had left; now, too, the ground was damp andglistening, the west was bright, and Lizzy's snowdrops were raising theirheads in the border under the wall.

Lizzy must have caught sight of him from the window, for by the time thathe reached the door she was there holding it open: and then, as if shehad not sufficiently considered her act of coming out, she drew herselfback, saying with some constraint, 'Mr. Stockdale!'

'You knew it was,' said Stockdale, taking her hand. 'I wrote to say Ishould call.'

'Yes, but you did not say when,' she answered.

'I did not. I was not quite sure when my business would lead me to theseparts.'

'You only came because business brought you near?'

'Well, that is the fact; but I have often thought I should like to comeon purpose to see you . . . But what's all this that has happened? Itold you how it would be, Lizzy, and you would not listen to me.'

'I would not,' she said sadly. 'But I had been brought up to that life;and it was second nature to me. However, it is all over now. Theofficers have blood-money for taking a man dead or alive, and the tradeis going to nothing. We were hunted down like rats.'

'Owlett is quite gone, I hear.'

'Yes. He is in America. We had a dreadful struggle that last time, whenthey tried to take him. It is a perfect miracle that he lived throughit; and it is a wonder that I was not killed. I was shot in the hand. Itwas not by aim; the shot was really meant for my cousin; but I wasbehind, looking on as usual, and the bullet came to me. It bledterribly, but I got home without fainting; and it healed after a time.You know how he suffered?'

'No,' said Stockdale. 'I only heard that he just escaped with his life.'

'He was shot in the back; but a rib turned the ball. He was badly hurt.We would not let him be took. The men carried him all night across themeads to Kingsbere, and hid him in a barn, dressing his wound as well asthey could, till he was so far recovered as to be able to get about. Hehad gied up his mill for some time; and at last he got to Bristol, andtook a passage to America, and he's settled in Wisconsin.'

'What do you think of smuggling now?' said the minister gravely.

'I own that we were wrong,' said she. 'But I have suffered for it. I amvery poor now, and my mother has been dead these twelve months . . . Butwon't you come in, Mr. Stockdale?'

Stockdale went in; and it is to be supposed that they came to anunderstanding; for a fortnight later there was a sale of Lizzy'sfurniture, and after that a wedding at a chapel in a neighbouring town.

He took her away from her old haunts to the home that he had made forhimself in his native county, where she studied her duties as aminister's wife with praiseworthy assiduity. It is said that in afteryears she wrote an excellent tract called Render unto Caesar; or, TheRepentant Villagers, in which her own experience was anonymously used asthe introductory story. Stockdale got it printed, after making somecorrections, and putting in a few powerful sentences of his own; and manyhundreds of copies were distributed by the couple in the course of theirmarried life.

April 1879.