Smuggler's Moon Read Online Free Page A

either. Nevertheless, I fear we must take what he says seriously.”
    “And what has he to say?” Sir John put it to him as a sort of challenge. ”There was something about an accusation, was there not?”
    “Indeed there was—and a very serious one it is. According to Eccles, nothing of substance can be done to diminish smuggling in his section of Kent unless we get rid of the local magistrate, a young man named Albert Sarton.”
    “He says that, does he?”
    “Oh, he says far worse. According to Mr. Eccles—and I quote him—”The man is either corrupt, or the most incompetent ever in the history of the magistracy.’”
    “That indeed is a powerful indictment,” said Sir John. ”Yet I have known colleagues who impressed me as
both
corrupt and incompetent.” A sly smile spread across his face. ”Please don’t press me for names, Lord Mansfield.”
    “The odd thing is,” said the judge, ”I’ve met the fellow, and he didn’t seem at all as Eccles described him.”
    “You’ve met this Albert Sarton?”
    “Yes, I have, and I remember him well. As it comes tome, I had been invited up to Oxford to address the law faculty and students. The invitation came from an old friend of mine, a former classmate he was and now a professor there. At the party given me afterward, he brought forward a good-looking young fellow not much older than your lad here”—nodding toward me. ”He gave his name as Albert Sarton and said that he was quite the most promising student lawyer they had had at Oxford in his memory. He urged me to keep young Sarton in mind for the judiciary—after a proper amount of seasoning, understand. Well, then he left me with this young fellow, and I had a chance to talk with him myself, and I must say, I was very favorably impressed by him. Not only did he show great intelligence, he also showed something far rarer among those young university fellows–good sense.
    “All this was a few years past,” he continued. ”But when, just last year, the post in Deal came open, I remembered meeting this young Sarton, and I inquired after him. I found he had just passed the bar and was looking for a post. Work as a magistrate has always seemed to me good preparation for a career in the judiciary—as I’ve said to you, Sir John, each time I’ve offered a judgeship to you.”
    Sir John waved a hand in a dismissive manner. ”Well, we needn’t go into that again,” said he.
    “As you wish. But to continue, I happened to have another old friend in Deal, a squire who lives in a manor house up above the town—a Sir Simon Grenville. Do you perchance know him, too? I was specially close to his father at Oxford.”
    “I fear not, Lord Mansfield. I leave London only on those errands on which you have sent me. I know no one in Deal.”
    “Ah, well.” The chief justice shrugged indifferently. ”In any case, he is quite influential in those parts, and when he heard that young Sarton came so highly recommended, he promised to do all that he could to see that the post was offeredto him. That, essentially, was all that was necessary, though Sir Simon did say that there was some slight opposition to Albert Sarton because he was not from east Kent.”
    “They don’t like outsiders, I take it.”
    “Don’t seem to—no, they don’t. In any case, Sarton got the job, partly through my sponsorship, and I’d heard nothing ill of him until this man George Eccles came forth with these complaints. They all have to do with the smuggling trade thereabouts. Deal seems to be the center of it, at least currently. Eccles says he is letting known smugglers go free, and so on. Says he even consorts with them. Frankly, I find it difficult to credit his complaints. First of all, they were not at all specific. Secondly, I know Sarton is not stupid–and therefore not likely to be incompetent; and as for him being corrupt, well, having met him and talked with him at some length, I can only say, I doubt it.”
    “Did you