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Updated: May 7, 2025
Another month, I hope, will see me abroad in Ireland." "Abroad? Call it rather at home," said old Cary; "for it is full of Devon men from end to end, and you will be among friends all day long. George Bourchier from Tawstock has the army now in Munster, and Warham St. "And where," asked Amyas, "is Davils of Marsland, who used to teach me how to catch trout, when I was staying down at Stow?
And in defence of what, forsooth, did he play the ruffian and the swashbuckler, but to bring home to your house this letter, sir, which you shall hear at your leisure, the moment I have taken order about your priests." And walking out of the house he went round and called to Cary to come to him. "The birds are flown, Will," whispered he. "There is but one chance for us, and that is Marsland Mouth.
And she again insisted how much wiser it would have been if Laura had just gone quietly over the sands to Marsland. There, no doubt, she might have got a car straight away, and there might have been no talk whatever. "Mightn't there?" said Laura. Her little chin was propped in her hand.
"Surely, sweet chuck, we three are enough to take two poor polecats of Jesuits. Go in, and help me to boot and gird." In half an hour they were down and up across the valley again, under the few low ashes clipt flat by the sea-breeze which stood round the lonely gate of Chapel. "Mr. Cary, there is a back path across the downs to Marsland; go and guard that."
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