to permit a search—which would be conducted with
all the delicacy possible. The baronet, an exceedingly urbane man, promptly expressed his readiness to allow house, cellar, attic—every part of his house and every outbuilding—unreservedly to be searched.
He produced his keys. The cellar was, of course,
the place where wine and spirits were most likely
to be found—let that be explored first. He had a
cellar-book, which he produced, and he would be
glad if the officer would compare what he found
below with his entries in the book. The search was
entered into with some zest, for the Government
officers had long looked on Sir Thomas with mistrust, and yet were somewhat disarmed by the frankness with which he met them. But they ransacked
the mansion from garret to cellar, and every part
of the outbuildings, and found nothing. They had
omitted to look into the family coach, which was
full of rum kegs, so full that to prevent the springs
being broken, or showing that the carriage was laden,
the axle-trees had been "trigged up" below with
blocks of wood.
Wrecking was another form of sea-poaching. Terrible stories of ships lured to destruction by the exhibition of false lights are told, but all belong to the past. I remember an old fellow—the last of the Cornish wreckers—who ended his days as keeper of a toll-gate. But he never would allow that he had wilfully drawn a vessel upon the breakers. When a ship was cast up by the gale it was another matter. The dwellers on the coast could not believe that they had not a perfect right to whatever was
