“I had to! The casks were still here!”

“Still where?”Vincent said sharply.

“Here. In the passage. Ever since the last run.”

“What passage?” Vincent demanded, looking down at him in sudden, astonished suspicion. He could not see his face, however, for a pang of exquisite anguish had made Richmond gasp, and lean his forehead against his supporting arm. Vincent stared down at the top of his dark head. “Are you trying to tell me you’ve found the secret passage?”

Richmond managed to utter: “Yes. This end. Spurstow found—the other—ages ago.”

He stopped, quite unable to continue speaking for several moments. Vincent glanced quickly up at Hugo, but Hugo’s attention seemed to be fixed wholly on what he was doing. Vincent, violently irritated, was obliged to choke back an impatient demand to know whether he was listening.

He was certainly the only one of those present to remain unmoved. Mrs. Flitwick, letting the scissors fall from her fingers, ejaculated: “Lawk-a-mussy on us, whatever do you mean, Master Richmond?”

“Richmond, you didn’t?” Anthea said, quite incredulous.

“The boy’s raving! Doesn’t know what he’s saying!” pronounced Claud, who had sat up with a jerk.

“Yes, I do. Not difficult—once we’d cleared—the blockage,” Richmond said thickly. “Roof had fallen in—not far from the other entrance. Think it must be—where there’s that dip—in the ground—”

“Never mind that!” interrupted Vincent.

“No. Well—Spurstow only used it—to store—the run cargoes—till I found out—and knew—must be the passage—and made him—help to clear the blockage. Devil of a task, but managed to do it. Easy, after that. Only had to work out—where the other entrance must have been. In the old part of the house, of course. Cellars. Bricked up. Only fear was—might be heard when we broke through. Servants’ quarters—too close to the old wing. But bad thunderstorm one night—did it then!”

“Well, I’ll be damned!” said Claud, who had been listening, open-mouthed, to these revelations. “You know, there’s no getting away from it!—Young Richmond’s a hell-born babe, all right and tight, but, by Jupiter, he’s a bit of a dab!”

“A bit of a dab to use this house as a smuggler’s store?” said Vincent, in a voice of scathing contempt.

“I’m not a hell-born babe!” Richmond lifted his head. “It’s no worse than letting them use the barn by the Five Acre—which they’re always done! Grandpapa wouldn’t say so!”

“My God—!” Vincent’s eyes again went to Hugo’s face, but he was still not attending. “Listen, you young sapskull!” Vincent said harshly. “Can you see no difference between that and becoming yourself a smuggler?”

“Oh! Well—yes, but I didn’t think it was so very bad. I only did it for the sport of it! I don’t benefit by it—and in any event—when Grandpapa said he would never let me be a soldier—I didn’t care about anything anymore! You wouldn’t understand. It doesn’t signify.”

“Master Richmond, Master Richmond!”said Chollacombe, tears of dismay in his eyes. “Never did I think to hear—”

“No sense in talking like that!” snapped Mrs. Flitwick. “A judgment—that’s what it is! A judgment on those as should have known better, and nothing will make me say different!”

“Sticking-plaster!” interrupted Hugo imperatively.

Polyphant, who had constituted himself his assistant, started, and said hurriedly: “Yes, sir—immediately! I beg pardon, I am sure! I allowed myself to be distracted, but it shall not occur again! And the scissors! Mrs. Flitwick, the scissors!—Good gracious me, ma’am—Ah, I have them!”

Richmond, wincing as Hugo began to cover his handiwork as tightly as he could with strips of the sticking-plaster, said: “Any way—I did it! Ottershaw was always suspicious of Spurstow. Began to watch the Dower House whenever he got word a run was expected. Made it devilish difficult—to use the place. That’s how—I came into it. Saw how I could make Ottershaw look as blue as—as megrim. I did, too. He don’t know now—how the kegs were got into the Dower House. We ran them up here, from the coast, and took them the rest of the way through the passage. But I never had them kept at this end of the passage! Or let them be taken away from here—until tonight, when—nothing else I could do. Knew I might have to, so had it all—trig and trim. Ponies in the Park. Had the kegs carried there: too dangerous to bring ’em up to the house. Only thing was—knew Ottershaw was hot on my scent—couldn’t be sure he wasn’t keeping some kind of a watch on this place too, so—had to lay a false scent. That’s why we did the thing—so early. Ottershaw’s grown too—fly to the time of day. Had to make him think it must be the real run, and we’d hoped to get away before any watch was set on the place. He did.” Richmond’s head was up, and his sister, gazing at him in horror, saw the glow in his eyes. “It was the best chase of them all—my last!” he said, an exultant little smile on his pale lips. “You don’t know—! If only I hadn’t taken it for granted I was safe on our own ground!—I ought to have known, but I’d shaken off the pursuit, and never dreamed there’d be anyone watching for my return here. I’ve never come back before except by the passage. Jem said I’d be taken at fault one day, but he’s got no stomach at all for a close-run thing. He didn’t like it even when we took up the casks in broad daylight once—pulling in mackerel-nets! Swore he’d never go out with me again, but I knew no Exciseman would think anyone would dare do that, so it wasn’t really very dangerous.” A tiny laugh broke from him. “We were hailed by a naval cutter: you should have seen Jem’s face! But the kegs were hidden under the mackerel—we’d got the Seamew spilling over with them! I offered to sell ’em to the lieutenant aboard the cutter: just joking him!—and of course we came off safe!”

Claud, who had been listening with his eyes starting from their sockets, drew a long breath. “When I think of the way we’ve been living here, never dreaming we’d be a dashed sight safer in a powder-magazine—! Well, at least there’s one good thing! No need to be afraid he’ll go to Newgate! Well, what I mean is, he’s stark, staring mad! Ought to have put him into Bedlam years ago!”

“Not mad!” Vincent said. “Rope-ripe!”

“There!” said the Major, pressing down his last strip of sticking-plaster. “Cut, Polyphant! I fancy that will do the trick.”

“Beautiful, sir!” said Polyphant, carefully snipping off the dangling end of the plaster. “A really prime piece of work, if I may be permitted to say so!”

“We’ll hope it may hold, anyhow. If it doesn’t, we shall all of us end in Newgate!”

“That,” said Vincent acidly, “is extremely likely unless we are able to think what next is to be done! If you can drag your mind away from this damned young scoundrel’s wound, perhaps you’ll apply it to that problem, for it is quite beyond my poor capabilities to solve!”

“Then happen you’ll find that Ajax shall cope the best!”retorted the Major, with a grin. “Now then! we must bustle about a little. The dragoons will have gone to report to Ottershaw, but for aught we know they may not have had to go far, so just do what I’m going to tell you, every one of you, without asking why, or arguing about it! Mrs. Flitwick, I want you out of the way until we’re rid of Excisemen: the fewer people to be mixed up in this the better. So you may stay out of sight, and don’t say a word to anyone about what’s been happening! Chollacombe, I want a couple of packs of cards, another brandy-glass, and the clothes you stripped from Mr. Richmond—yes, I mean that, so off with you! Anthea, love, slip away to the billiard-room, and fetch Claud’s and my coats, will you? Nay, pluck up, lass! We’re going to save Richmond’s groats, never you fear!”

She nodded, trying to smile, and hurried away.

“Claud,” said the Major, a twinkle in his eye, “I want every stitch of clothing you’ve got on, except your drawers! Go on, lad, don’t stand gauping at me, or we’ll have Anthea back before we’ve made you respectable again! It’s you that got fired at, not Richmond, and I want your clothes for him!”

“Here, I say, no!” exclaimed Claud, appalled. “If you think I’ll put on Richmond’s clothes—dash it, even if they weren’t soaked in blood I wouldn’t like it, and—”

“Get your shoes off, and be quick about it!” interrupted Vincent, advancing upon him. “If you don’t, I’ll knock you out and strip you myself! Hurry!”

The look on his face was so alarming that Claud sat down hastily to untie his exquisitely ironed shoestrings. No sooner were his shoes and striped socks off than Vincent jerked him to his feet, ripped off his neckcloth, and began to unbutton his waistcoat, commanding him to do the same to his breeches. Over his shoulder, he said: “I make you my compliments, Hugo! But why was Claud skulking in the wood? I see that no Exciseman in his right senses could possibly think him engaged in smuggling, but we must have some reason to account for his running away when challenged!”

“Nay, !” said the Major reproachfully, tossing Richmond’s rent and blood-soaked shirt on to the floor. “You’ve got a short memory! He thought it was the Ackletons, lying in wait to rend him limb from limb, of course! Happen it gave him such a fright that he didn’t hear just what they were shouting—nothing about halting in the name of the King, for instance!—and when they took to firing at him, what could he do but run for his life? Let alone he’d no weapon, he was in a very ticklish situation—having been trysting with that prime article of virtue the Ackletons forbade him ever to look at again!”