Mr Hanaper, who held the office of Clerk of the Cheque at the port of Shayle, had his business quarters on the town quay, beside the towering warehouse known, from its handsome stone colonnade, as Goree Piazza. This was a favourite lounging place at all times; and in the summer evenings it was a custom for citizens and their wives to gather "down along Goree" for a stroll under the arches and an inspection of the tall ships moored alongside the quay wall. A bow window gave Mr Hanaper an excellent view not only of the piazza, but of a long reach of the river itself, an advantage he did not neglect. His prim face, peering over his green curtains, was indeed one of the common objects of the foreshore.

It was an object frequently seen during the half-hour which followed his return from Hearse House. For minutes together the Clerk stood at his window, gazing seaward down the river, now a glittering replica of the clear evening sky. Although the bay and the anchored vessel were hidden from his view by a curve of the stream and the houses of the lower town, it seemed that the mere presence of this ship of war interested him to a degree hardly warranted by a routine matter of

-The Macaroniad.

a few pressed seamen. In old Solomon's room, his natural self-confidence reacting against Sir Bevil's misgivings, Mr Hanaper had brushed these aside airily enough. Here, however, in the privacy of his own company, with a heavy burden on his mind, he could afford to appear precisely what he was a disturbed and anxious man. There were many such in England in September of the year 1715.

His vigilance was at length rewarded. During what was perhaps his tenth visit to the window, he saw a boat come sweeping round the bend of the town reach. Although still a quarter of a mile away, he made her out to be an eightoared barge. She was racing up with the tide, her rowers swaying in perfect rhythm, their white blades flashing like one. As she drew nearer, her varnished side with its blue-andgold upper strake afire in the sunlight, she made a little picture of elegance and speed beside the score of dingy coastal brigs and luggers which swung at their moorings or lay tied up to the wharves. Mr Hanaper, with twenty years' experience of a navy in the throes of transition, drew from this uncommon smartness his own conclusions. They seemed to

66

comfort his mind, for he permitted himself a dry complacent smile. Some young popinjay, I'll wager," he reflected aloud. "So much for omens! They don't send their court pets when they mean mischief."

When, a few minutes later, the barge was headed for the stairs before the Clerk's office, it seemed that his deduction was substantially correct. For a figure beside the coxswain in the stern-sheets revealed itself as that of a young man in a coat of sky blue, blazing with gold lace and buttons. His cuffs reached to his elbows, lace ruffles almost hid his hands, and on his head was a vast three-cornered hat with a feathered brim. It was a costume strangely out of place on the Shayle River, and Mr Hanaper smiled again. Here was an authentic popinjay, of the most dandiacal description, one of those sprigs of fashion who were given ships or regiments in their 'teens, and who made a cruise or a campaign as they made the Grand Tour-because it was the mode. That this exquisite intended to transact any official business, or was even capable of doing so, appeared in the highest degree improbable. He was of the type who delegated such matters, together with the navigation and general conduct of his ship, to some salt horse of a master or a first lieutenant. Nor was it likely that a vessel so commanded could have come on any serious service. No

doubt the youthful captain wished to stretch his legs on shore, and parade his finery before the beauties of the town. In short, as the boat swept smartly alongside the stairs and out of Mr Hanaper's view (for the quay wall rose six feet above flood level), that gentleman, his own apprehensions stilled, was already enjoying in prospect the pleasure of saying to Sir Bevil, "I told you so.”

Above the edge of the quay, where a group of spectators were now gathered, eight dripping oar blades were uplifted. The young man in blue appeared at the stairhead, followed by his coxswain, a burly fellow in a loose jacket, slops of astonishing width, and a black flat hat above a face like a piece of seasoned teak. The former put some questions to the loungers, who, rather to Mr Hanaper's surprise, pointed like one man to his office, whereupon the pair immediately advanced over the puddles and the uneven cobblestones towards him. He retired hastily to his desk, and was pointing a quill pen, with the most innocent air in the world, when his caller, without the formality of a knock, flung open the door and walked in.

The Clerk was no fool; and even as he jumped to his feet, and executed a bow of precisely the correct shade of obsequiousness (for he also knew his place, and a gentleman captain was a gentleman first and a captain afterwards, and en

'You will have heard the rebels have entered Perth," the Clerk said. "That is our latest, and four days old."

'For all I hear of the country, they may have it and keep it," the young man observed. ""Tis wetter than Ireland, they tell me, and twice as high. By the

way "-this with an amiable grin,—“I'm also told you have quite a nest of rebels here in Shayle."

His easy smile and conversational tone must have failed to alarm the most suspicious of men. But the subject he had so casually introduced was a dangerous one, with the Duke of Ormonde just across the Channel at St Malo mustering an army of Papists whose numbers and ferocity grew with every rumour. Although the Duke was believed to have his eye on Bristol and the west, the whole south coast was in a ferment,

was embodied, and nervous citizens were burying their plate and staying awake of nights. Spies and plots were seen in every corner; neighbour distrusted neighbour, and houses were divided against themselves. In such an atmosphere, whether one was a Whig or a Tory, a Protestant or a Papist, every stranger was suspect. He might be another Bolingbroke, or a or a secret agent of Lord Stanhope or Lord Stair. Mr Hanaper, for example, who had his own reasons for keeping his eyes open, now attached little importance to the presence or the words of Captain le Chemineau. That young man possessed wits and a manner; but he clearly was not of the stuff of which zealous conspirators or secret agents were made. Nevertheless, being at all times discretion personified, the Clerk was at this juncture less than ever likely to allow even a heedless young fop to lull his caution. This visitor, moreover, was the Vice-Admiral's nephew. Mr Hanaper accordingly eyed him watchfully, and answered him with restraint.

“Aye, I saw their tents," the Captain said carelessly. "But put not your trust in militia. However, no doubt you can hold Shayle for King George, God bless his toothless gums!" He crossed his legs, produced his snuff-box, and condescended to offer it to the Clerk. "Do you snuff, sir?"

Mr Hanaper took a pinch. "Let's to business," le Chemineau resumed. "Imprimis, being on my way from Plymouth to join the fleet at St Helens, there is a parcel of pressed men I am ordered to take aboard. A dozen, I understand."

"Fourteen, to speak by the book," the Clerk replied. "Yes, Captain, they are in the town jail, and glad I am to be rid of them."

The Captain's eyebrows went up. "In the jail?" said he.

Where would you have me put them, sir? And in times like these? But, indeed, at any time we have no other means of holding them, without spending more of His Majesty's moneys than I for one am ever likely to be reimbursed. Ten weeks, as it is, have I had them on my hands; and to get my just costs thereby out of the Treasury Board will be like drawing teeth."

"Well, at least I will relieve you of them," le Chemineau said. "Zounds! after ten weeks of your bilboes, the poor devils should welcome a voyage to Guinea ! Have them ready in the morning, if you

please, Mr Clerk, two hours before high water."

This did not quite fall in with Mr Hanaper's ideas. For all his caution, he let slip a hint of the fact, although he regretted it as soon as uttered.

"They can be put aboard within the hour, sir, if you wish to make the evening tide."

The young exquisite, however, who was critically examining his finger - tips, appeared to have noticed nothing. He yawned and shook his head.

"To-morrow will serve," he said. "I have business in the town to-night; and then there is another matter I am charged to discuss with you. The contraband, in fact. Nunks seems to think your town is den of thieves. Between you and me, he's been on the quarter-deck about it. Too many cargoes slipping ashore of nights, and what is a Vice-Admiral for, if he can't hang a few smugglers? It seems the smugglers have been doing the hanging, eh? His Lordship swears—have you ever heard him swear, Mr Hanaper? - he swears that every man in Shayle, from the parson downwards, is in the trade. He talked of my landing a few boats' crews and searching it cellar by cellar. For my part, curse it! if a man can slip in his silks and brandies cheap, I'll say good luck to him. But duty is duty, and so on. And it will please the old hunks if we can make a show of zeal. We might pull down the parsonage, perhaps?"