hundred and ninety-nine down below there. But," he added ruefully, "we've got no proof that they're smuggled."
"We'll soon get that," said the captain, thrusting the bottle into the capacious skirt pocket of his sea-coat. "Put these things back, and summon the landlady."
Then the captain unlocked the door and quietly opened it.
Coming up quickly from a stooping position near the keyhole was Mr. Mipps, the sexton.
"You're a fine fellow," he said, not at all put out of countenance by the captain having found him eavesdropping, "a very fine fellow to come lookin' for smuggling, with a gang o' blasphemous scoundrels wot kick up more to-do than the Tower of Babel. Look here, sir, are you coming in to keep order or not? I only want a word, Yes or No, for I shall go straight round to the Court House and report you to the squire. And then p'raps he won't put you and your crew into the cells there; p'raps he won't—only p'raps, 'cos I'm dead sure he will."
"What are my boys doing?" laughed the captain.
"What are the little dears not doing?" answered the sexton, thoroughly angry. "Oh, nothing, I assure you! Only upsetting the barrels, throwin' about the tankards, stealin' the drinks, and makin' fun of Missus Waggetts."
"Oh, that's all right," said the captain. "Tell Mrs. Waggetts to come here."
