Smuggler's Moon Read Online Free

matter through.”
    We entered, and the butler—my old adversary—closed the door after us and then brought us to the study. The Lord Chief Justice seemed quite content to allow him to lead the way, which struck me as odd. Was he unsure of its location? The butler stood aside at the open double door of the study. He frowned at me as I passed him by. It was a look which to me did say, ”They seem to want you inside, and so there is naught I can do to keep you out, and yet if it were left up to me …” He closed the doors after us; that is, he must have, for next I looked at them they were shut—though I had heard not a sound. Ah, butlers! How do they manage?
    “Sit down, Sir John,” said Lord Mansfield. ”I daresay we shall have more to talk about now that Eccles is gone than if he were here.”
    I guided Sir John to a chair, and once he was settled, I looked round for one for myself.
    “Your young fellow can take notes if you like,” said the Chief Justice. ”I’ll provide paper and pen.”
    “Should it be necessary?”
    “There are a few names to remember.”
    “Oh, I’m good at names,” said Sir John. ”Numbers are sometimes a bit of a problem. But let us begin. I assume the problem to which he referred is smuggling.”
    The Lord Chief Justice looked up, an expression of surprise upon his face. ”How did you guess that?”
    “Ah well, simple enough. Our friend Eccles is Chief Customs Officer for east Kent. Customs means import duties, which smugglers evade. And of course east Kent hasthe most active smuggling trade of any part of England, for it lies just opposite France.”
    “Well … quite right.”
    “And he is now on his way to see the Chancellor of the Exchequer, no doubt, to ask for more money to combat the trade,” said Sir John. ”But indeed the truth is, it is the Chancellor of the Exchequer who caused the problem to begin with—his exorbitant import duties, taxes and so on. Tea and wine are taxed at over double their value, are they not?”
    “Yes … I suppose they are. But see here, Sir John, we’ve been at war for a good part of the time for as long as I can remember. We’ve gone in debt. Money must be raised in some way to retire that debt.”
    “And each time they raise the import duties, smuggling increases.”
    “That is true,” said Lord Mansfield, ”but smuggling must be stamped out. It is a simple matter of enforcing the law, is it not?”
    “Smuggling will never be stamped out, so long as import duties continue so high.”
    The Lord Chief Justice sighed and said nothing for a goodly space of time. He simply studied Sir John, perhaps trying to suppose some means to dissuade him from his contrary position. Apparently there was none.
    But then the magistrate did clear his throat and speak up once more: ”I have an addendum to that which I have just said—an alternative.”
    “Oh? And what is that?”
    “Either import duties be lowered,
or
…”
    “Yes?”
    “Those of the aristocracy and the nobility refuse to buy what they know to be contraband goods.”
    “How would they recognize contraband from what has entered legally? Both may carry the proper stamp, or something forged to look quite like it.”
    ”True enough, but smuggled goods are luxury goods—perfume, tobacco, wine, all of that. Persuade those who can afford them to forgo such pleasures, and you will have solved the problem.”
    Lord Mansfield regarded him with dismay. ”I thought for a moment that you were being serious. I shall know better next time.”
    “I
was
being serious—or at least I was trying to make a serious point. And that, Lord Mansfield, is that there is no practical likelihood of reducing smuggling in east Kent, or in any other part of England—not now, in any case.”
    “Mr. George Eccles says otherwise.”
    “He would, wouldn’t he?” said Sir John. ”I did not like the man, you know, rather a self-important sort.”
    “That may be, and for that matter I did not like him,