A black night sky arched over the endless expanse of sand and gusts of icy wind buffeted the Earl. He shivered and turned up the collar of his greatcoat. He could hear the crash of the incoming tide away to his right, but he couldn’t see much further than the circle of light thrown by the lantern Sir William had snatched from the riding officer. ‘Damn it! The scurvy villain lied to me!’ Sir William exploded. He was staring at the marks in the ridged, damp sand where the kegs had been hauled up onto the beach in a long daisy-chain of contraband. ‘Or perhaps your informant was himself misled?’ the Earl of Ellewood suggested, stamping his feet to keep warm. It was quite clear what had happened. The smugglers’ landing had been here, while Sir William’s small party had been lying in wait on an empty beach two miles to the west. ‘They’re a cunning lot,’ the riding officer began nervously. It made him anxious to have the local magistrate, two of the magistrate’s men and a visiting earl assisting him in his duty.
