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But it's your turn to weer it. Ye've been wounded a'ready. 'Na, na, Wullie! 'Dae what I tell ye, ye ! Willie made the exchange of headgear. . . . 'I say, Macgreegor! 'What? 'This is Flanders. Ye mind oor bet? Weel, we're quits noo. I'm no owin' ye onything eh? Macgregor grinned in spite of everything. 'Ay, we're quits noo, Wullie, sure enough.
What do you mean?" "Please your honour, we'd found tracks, as we thought, of the smugglers' lugger, and then Mr Leigh lost us. No; I mean, your honour, we lost him. No, he lost I say, Tom Tully, my lad, which way weer it?" Tom Tully grunted, gave his trousers a hitch, and looked at the lieutenant's sword. "Well, sir, do you hear?" cried the lieutenant; "how was it?"
"The faace of un weer allus sulky, like to the faace of a auld ram cat, as may have a gude heart in un for all his glowerin' eyes. But him! Theer ban't no pleasin' un. What do he want? Surely never no man 's failed on his feet awftener." "'T is that what 's spoilin' un, I reckon," said Mr. Chappie. "A li'l ill-fortune he wants now, same as a salad o' green stuff wants some bite to it.
Some un as thowt he desarved a shot for setting fire to folks's houses and shooting honest men. Some folk don't stop to think. If they've got goons in their hands, and sees varmen running away, they oops wi' the goon and shutes, and that's what some un did. Thou'lt know who it weer one day." "And he told my father?" "It weer our Jacob towd squire.
"Perhaps it weer a cross an' perhaps it weern't; anyway it's my gate-post now, an' as to diggin' it up, you may be surprised to knaw it, Martin Grimbal, but I'll see you damned fust!
Then you were woke out of your sleep by a blow, eh?" "Weer I? I don't know." "Tell me who have you had a quarrel with lately?" "Quarrel?" "Well, row, then." "Wi' him," said the big fellow, pointing at Dick. "Oh, but he would not have come to you in the night!" "Who said he would, mester?" growled Bargle menacingly. "Not he. He'd come up square and give a man a doubler in the chest and "
"Is it true that the White Lady has been seen since Mr. Glenthorpe was murdered?" "She's been heered, shure enough. Billy Backlog, who lives closest to the rise, was a-tellin' us in the Anchor bar that she woke him up two nights arter th' murder, a-yowlin' like an old tomcat, but Billy knew it worn't a cat it weer far more fearsome, wi gasps at th' end.
"Nay," he said at last, "it weer some one smoking. Nobody would hev set fire to the plaace. Why, they might hev been all bont in their beds." Tom Tallington saw them coming and ran out. "Why, Dave," he cried, "I'd forgotten all about the fishing, but we can't go now." "Nay, we couldn't go now," said the man severely. "'Twouldn't be neighbourly."
You caan't knaw what this is to me, you doan't understan' a wummon faaced wi' a coil like this here. Joe Joe as loved 'er, I s'pose, differ'nt to what 'e did me. An' she, when his back weer turned an' an' me God help me! as never could do less than love en through all!" She was gone before he had time to answer, but he realized her mighty agony of mind and stood dumb and frightened before it.
"Why, Hickathrift, were you hit?" "S'pose I weer, sir. Something came with a whuzz and knocked my hand aside." "Oh!" ejaculated Dick; while Mr Marston sat with his heart beating, since in spite of his efforts to be cool he could not help recalling the evening when he was shot, and he glanced round, expecting to see a flash and hear another report.
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