But his father said something more before they left the table.
"So those smuggling rascals have come back? Well, I always expected they would. A nice long lesson they've had. Well, knowing what I do, I shall not take any steps unless I am obliged by pressure from Falmouth. Then, of course, I must. They are your friends, Lance, not mine; and I suppose they have quite given up smuggling."
"Yes, father," cried the boy; "Old Poltree told me, with tears in his eyes, that if he had known what was to come of it he would never have touched keg or bale. They'll never smuggle again."
"Let them prove it while they have a chance, my boy; it may tell in their favour when they are arrested and sent for trial."
"But this is a very out-of-the-way place," he said afterwards to Mrs. Penwith, "and I don't think any one will trouble them, for the matter is almost forgotten now."
"But ought you to——"
"Where's that boy?" said the squire, frowning.
Lance had rushed off again to tell his friends on the cliff how his father had taken their return.