At ten o'clock the yacht was anchored. Pickersgill took his
leave of the honourable company, and went in his boat with his men; and
Lord B. was again in possession of his vessel, although he had not a
ship's company. Maddox recovered his usual tone; and the cook flourished
his knife, swearing that he should like to see the smuggler who would
again order him to dress cutlets _a l'ombre Chinoise_.
The yacht had remained three days at Cowes, when Lord B. received a
letter from Pickersgill, stating that the men of his vessel had been
captured, and would be condemned, in consequence of their having the
gentlemen on board, who were bound to appear against them, to prove that
they had sunk the brandy. Lord B. paid all the recognisances, and the
men were liberated for want of evidence.
It was about two years after this that Cecilia Ossulton, who was sitting
at her work-table in deep mourning for her aunt, was presented with a
letter by the butler. It was from her friend Mrs Lascelles, informing
her that she was married again to a Mr Davenant, and intended to pay her
a short visit on her way to the Continent. Mr and Mrs Davenant arrived
the next day; and when the latter introduced her husband, she said to
Miss Ossulton, "Look, Cecilia, dear, and tell me if you have ever seen
Davenant before."
Cecilia looked earnestly: "I have, indeed," cried she at last, extending
her hand with warmth; "and happy am I to meet with him again."
For in Mr Davenant she recognised her old acquaintance, the captain of
the _Happy-go-lucky_, Jack Pickersgill, the smuggler.
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