She had, nonetheless, a moment of trepidation as her escort loomed into view down the mist-shrouded street. The cavalcade approached as quietly as a file of six donkeys, eight mules, two horses, and eight men could manage, and their silent purposefulness contrasted with the noisy joviality of the previous evening. At the sight of them, lines of poetry that had thrilled Letty as a child with their sinister meaning came back to mind. Shivering with sudden chill, she whispered the chorus of “A Smuggler's Song” to Gunning: “ ‘Five and twenty ponies Trotting through the dark Brandy for the Parson 'Baccy for the Clerk Laces for a lady, letters for a spy…’” He smiled, leaned close, and added, “ ‘And watch the wall, my darling, while the Gentlemen go by!’” The warning of a Cornish father, suddenly aware of smugglers abroad below in the street. The men, now in black shirts and short woollen cloaks, were each leading a mule, its wooden saddle covered with a scarlet blanket.
