gentleman roared with laughter, and then let
the cat out of the bag by saying who his friend
was. It was afterwards that I and several
others then here, but now gone to their
account, came to know him so well. And a
right merry gentleman he could be, too.
Lord bless us, sir! swift as time flies, it
seems only as yesterday that he would come
down here, and say to us, as he made his
way to the cliff, with his hands in his
breeches pockets, and walking like a sailor
(he had been in the navy, you know, sir),
'Come along, my lads, and be the jury! I
am going to make another speech.' And a
most beautiful thing it was to listen to him.
One minute he would make you laugh
heartily, and the next minute he'd bring the
water into your eyes, by the tender way in
which he'd allude to a fading flower or a
sickly child. There was one case in particular,
I remember. It was an action brought
against a Mr. Somebody or other by a lord's
eldest son, for carrying off the wife. It was
most beautiful as we told him when he
asked us how we liked it. Blest if he didn't
make out as how the defendant was the
ill-used party, and not the man as had lost his
wife. Expensive as travelling was in those
days, five of us went up to London to hear
him speak that speech in court, before the
judges and the regular sworn jury; and such
a crowd as there was of lords and gentlemen,
to be sure!"

"And did he speak that same speech?"
I asked.

"Yes. In parts it was a little different,
and some things was added; but it was, in
the main, just what he said standing out on
them rocks yonder. There was no silly pride
about Mr. Erskine, sir. As soon as the case
was over, and he was coming out of court,
his quick eye caught sight of us; and up he
comes, puts out his hand to each of us, and
says, 'What! you here, my lads? Well,
follow me.' And he walks off to an old
public-house near the court, called The
Chequers, and orders two bottles of port
wine for us; and, while we were drinking it,
explained to us as how it were not possible
for him to win the day; and that all the
effect his speech would have, would be to
reduce the damages. He was mighty pleased
to hear himself praised, and seemed just as
proud of our approval as of anybody's else. I
don't think, sir," continued the old man,
"that Mr. Erskine felt any of the fine things
he said in his speeches. It was all acting
with him: and I'll tell you why I think so.
One day he was walking along the sands,
spouting of poetry out of a book he was
learning of it, for he read it over and over
again and while he was doing so he turned
up his eyes, shook his head, and stretched
forth his right hand, in such a way that you
might have taken him for a street parson.
It was a most series sort of poetry. It was
something about 'Farewell the drums and
fifes, the banners and the big guns—and the
plumes and the feathers, cocked hats and
swords, and the virtuous wars and the fair
women—honours, decorations, and rewards!
O, farewell everything! Alas! the poor
fellow's occupation's gone!' All of a sudden,
sir, he shuts up the book, claps it under his
arm, whistles a jig, and dances to it, and
remarkably well, too, did he come the
double-shuffle. Another time, when he was reading
out poetry, I saw him work himself up till
the tears actually rolled down his cheeks;
and not two minutes afterwards he was
playing at rounders with all the little boys
on the beach."

"And did Mr. Erskine know," I asked the
old smuggler, "that at first you all thought
that he was mad?"

"Yes; and was very much amused at it.
And it is to be hoped that you will not take
offence, because the people here had the same
opinion of yourself."

"But, my good sir," I remarked, "they
are still labouring under the impression."

''Very true," he rejoined; "but it will be
all right in a day or so."

On the following morning Robert's wife
was taken suddenly ill; and I sent for the
doctor, a very able practitioner, and a very
gentleman like man. He came; and, after
seeing his patient, and assuring me that the
case was not one of a serious nature, we
entered into conversation upon general
matters, during which I mentioned what had
happened on the previous day. The doctor
laughed, and said:

"I hope you will not be offended, but do
you know that only till the other day, when,
by the merest accident, I became acquainted
with the nature of your avocation, I, too,
shared the opinion of the inhabitants of the
town? Yesterday evening I heard of your
peregrinations, and of the groundless alarm
that you had created. However, I have
taken the liberty of disabusing the minds of
the people of their erroneous idea; and you
will find that when you next pay them a
visit, you will meet with a very warm reception,
and most probably have tendered unto
you the most ample apologies."

Reader, such was the case! and I never
enjoyed myself more than I did at that little
watering-place during the ensuing summer.
But amongst some of the rising generation
the original impression still holds, I fancy;
inasmuch, as two years ago I was walking
down one of the back streets—meditans
nugarum—when I heard a little girl, of
about ten years of age, call out to a younger
sister, "Come you here, Polly! Don't you
see that mad gentleman!"