There is no such place anywhere for the work; why, there are some fourteen or fifteen inlets where goods can be landed at high water and, once past the island, I don't care how sharp the revenue men may be, the betting is fifty to one against their being at the right spot at the right time.
"If the passage between our point and the island were but a bit wider, it would be perfect; but unfortunately it is so narrow that it is only on the very darkest night one can hope to get through, unnoticed.

However, we can do very well with the southern channel and, after all, it is safer.

We can get any number of boats, and the Henriette has only to anchor half a mile outside the entrance.
We know when she is coming, and have but to show a light, directly she makes her signal, and the boats will put out from Radhorn passage and Hamworth; while messengers start for Bushaw, and Scopland, and Creach, and a dozen farmhouses, and the carts are sure to be at the spot where they had been warned to assemble, by the time the boats come along with the kegs; and everything is miles away, in hiding, before morning.
"If it is a dark night the Henriette makes off again, and comes boldly in the next afternoon.

If one of the revenue boats, either from here or Studland, happens to come across her before she gets up anchor, there she is--the crew are all asleep, with the exception of a man on watch; she is simply waiting to come in, when there is light enough to enable her to make her way up the passage." James Stansfield was, in fact, the organizer of the smuggling business carried on at Poole, and the adjacent harbours.

There was not a farmhouse, among the hills to the south of the great sheet of water, with which he was not in communication.