: The History of Margaret Catchpole a Suffolk Girl by Cobbold Richard - Catchpole Margaret 1762-1819 Fiction

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and your tact, I should never make you such an offer. There you have it."

"Captain, I'm your man!--I'm your man!"

And so he sold himself to as artful, desperate, and bold a rover, as ever crossed the Channel. How true were poor Susan's last words to him--"You want steadiness of principle and stability of purpose!" From that hour, Will entered upon a course of life which led to his own ruin, and the ruin of others. He was caught in the toils of a smuggler, from which, though he once escaped, he never had sufficient stability to entirely emancipate himself.

Captain Bargood, to whom Will thus sold himself, was a clever as well as a desperate adventurer. He contrived to keep up appearances as a steady trader, and had vessels as regularly chartered as any of England's noblest merchants. His sails visited with proper invoices all the ports along the coast, and he had connexions in every town of the first class of dealers. Yet this man managed to have withal an under-current in the contraband trade, which paid him far greater profits than his regular account.

So well did he arrange his plans, that if a vessel of his was taken by the coastguard, he had always a captain or a mate to father her, and as he always paid them well, his own fair fame was suspected by none but those who occasionally bought goods of him at a price so far below the market, that they were content to let their suspicions subside in their own profits. He was a good judge of men, both of sailors, landsmen, gentry, and men of business. He knew how far to trust them, and how soon to shorten his sail. His ships, captains, and crews, were as well known to him as anything in his own unostentatious cottages at Aldborough, Hollesley, Harwich, or Ipswich; in which he occasionally took up his abode, as business or inclination prompted. But he equally well knew Will Laud, and foresaw in him the very commander who should bring him in many a good prize in the shape of spirits or tobacco, furs or linen. He cared for no man's success but his own. He could be rough, smooth, hot, or cool, just as he thought best to gain his end. Money was his idol, and, as a quick return and enormous profit for a small outlay, the smuggler's trade seemed to him the most promising. Laud would, and as the sequel will show, did prove a valuable servant or slave to him. This man outlived every one of his captains, and died about four years ago: namely, in the year 1841.

But the young sailor is arm-in-arm with the captain, the boat is hailed, the crew, four oars and a steersman, approach the shore, and the captain calls out--

"Now, Jack, high and dry for your new commander!"

The boat grounds, and Laud and his future master are seated in the stern.

"Long time bringing-to, captain?" said the gruff and surly-looking John Luff, a fellow who seemed formed of such materials as compose a cannon-ball. He looked like what he was, an iron-hearted and iron-fisted desperado, whose only pleasure was to serve a bad man, and to rule every one in the ship who had a little more feeling than himself.

They were soon on board the brig, and Laud was duly introduced to the crew, and appointed their captain.

"Yes, master, yes," said the mate, "we understand. You need not spin us a long yarn; business, say I, and the sooner the better. I will take care of him, trust me. He's a smart boy. He'll do, captain, he'll do."

The mate, John Luff, and the master, seemed to understand each other. The captain shook hands with Laud, and bidding him take care of his own craft, he left them outward bound, and came ashore at Woodbridge Haven.

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