432 THE SMUGCiLEil 



forth, old Rarnley, who was amongst the last who lingered. 

 turned his horse and galloped away, his companions following 

 as fast as they could. Four men were found on the outside 

 of the churchyard wall, of whom two were living; but Sir 

 Edward Digby advanced with several others to the spot where 

 Richard Radford was lying. He did not appear to have moved 

 at all since he fell; and on raising his head, which had fallen 

 forward on his chest as he lay propped up by the gravestone, 

 a dark red spot in the centre of the forehead, from which a 

 small quantity of blood had flowed down over his cyos and 

 cheeks, told how fatally true the shot had gone to the mark. 



When he had gazed on him for a moment, Digby turned 

 round again, to look for Harding; but the man who had slain 

 him, did not approach the corpse of Richard Radford; and 

 Digby perceived him standing near a low shed, which at that 

 time encumbered the churchyard of Goudlmrst, and under 

 which the young baronet's horses had been placed. Thither 

 the strong hunter, which Radford had been riding, had trotted 

 as soon as his master fell; and Harding had caught it by the 

 bridle, and was gazing at it with a thoughtful look. 



The last time Sir Edward Digby had seen him, before th t at 

 morning, he was in high happiness by the side of poor Kate 

 Clare ; and when the young officer looked at him, as he stood 

 there, with a sort of dull despair in his whole aspect, he could 

 not but feel strong and painful sympathy with him, in his 

 deep grief. 



"Mr. Harding," he said, approaching him, "the unhappy 

 man is quite dead." 



"Oh! yes, sir," answered Harding; "dead enough, I am 

 sure. I hope he knew whose hand did it. 5 ' 



" I am sorry to give you any further pain or anxiety at this 

 moment," continued Digby, sinking his voice, "but I have 

 heard that you are supposed to have taken some part in land- 

 ing the goods which were captured the other day. For aught 

 we know, there may be information lodged against you, and 

 probably there will be some officer of customs with the troop 

 that is coming up. Would it not be better for you to retire 

 from this scene for a little?" 



"Thank you, sir; thank you! That is kind," answered 

 Harding. "Life's a load to me; but a prison is another 

 thing. I would have given any of those clumsy fellows a 



