The Distracted Preacher by Thomas Hardy Page B

and the other on Latimer and his myrmidons, prepared to put them off the scent if he should be asked a question. Stockdale, who was no smuggler at all, felt more anxiety than the worst of them, and went about his studies with a heavy heart, coming frequently to the door to ask Lizzy some question or other on the consequences to her of the tubs being found.
    â€œThe consequences,” she said, quietly, “are simply that I shall lose ’em. As I have none in the house or garden, they can’t touch me personally.”
    â€œBut you have some in the orchard?”
    â€œOwlett rents that of me, and he lends it to others. So it will be hard to say who put any tubs there if they should be found.”
    There was never such a tremendous sniffing known as that which took place in Nether-Moynton parish and its vicinity this day. All was done methodically, and mostly on hands and knees. At different hours of the day they had different plans. From daybreak to breakfast-time the officers used their sense of smell in a direct and straightforward manner only, pausing nowhere but at such places as the tubs might be supposed to be secreted in at that very moment, pending their removal on the following night. Among the places tested a nd examined were:
    Hollow trees. Cupboards. Culverts.
    Potato-graves. Clock-cases. Hedge-rows.
    Fuel-houses. Chimney-flues. Fagot-ricks.
    Bedrooms. Rain-water butts. Haystacks.
    Apple-lofts. Pigsties. Coppers and ovens.
    After breakfast they recommenced with renewed vigor, taking a new line; that is to say, directing their attention to clothes that might be supposed to have come in contact with the tubs in their removal from the shore, such garments being usually tainted with the spirits, owing to its oozing between the staves. They now sniffed at
    Smock-frocks. Smiths’ and
shoemakers’ aprons.
    Old shirts and waistcoats. Knee-naps and hedging-gloves.
    Coats and hats. Tarpaulins.
    Breeches and leggings. Market-cloaks.
    Women’s shawls and gowns. Scarecrows.
    And, as soon as the mid-day meal was over, they pushed their search into places where the spirits might have been thrown away in alarm:
    Horse-ponds. Mixens. Sinks in yards.
    Stable-drains. Wet ditches. Road-scrapings.
    Cinder-heaps. Cesspools. Back-door gutters.
    But still these indefatigable excisemen discovered nothing more than the original telltale smell in the road opposite Lizzy’s house, which even yet had not passed off.
    â€œI’ll tell ye what it is, men,” said Latimer, about three o’clock in the afternoon, “we must begin over again. Find them tubs I will.”
    The men, who had been hired for the day, looked at their hands and knees, muddy with creeping on all fours so frequently, and rubbed their noses, as if they had had almost enough of it; for the quantity of bad air which had passed into each one’s nostril had rendered it nearly as insensible as a flue. However, after a moment’s hesitation, they prepared to start anew, except three, whose power of smell had quite succumbed under the excessive wear and tear of the day.
    By this time not a male villager was to be seen in the parish. Owlett was not at his mill, the farmers were not in their fields, the parson was not in his garden, the smith had left his forge, and the wheelwright’s shop was silent.
    â€œWhere the divil are the folk gone?” said Latimer, waking up to the fact of their absence, and looking round. “I’ll have ’em up for this! Why don’t they come and help us? There’s not a man about the place but the Methodist parson, and he’s an old woman. I demand assistance in the King’s name!”
    â€œWe must find the jineral public afore we can demand that,” said his lieutenant.
    â€œWell, well, we shall do better without ’em,” said Latimer, who changed his moods at a moment’s notice. “But there’s great cause of suspicion in this silence and this