by taking life
while there's any help for it!"

"Was the man shot dead that Jerrem fired at?" asked Eve.

"No, I hope not; or, if so, we haven't heard the last of it, for,
depend on it, this new officer, Buller, he's an ugly customer to deal
with, and won't take things quite so easy as old Ravens used to do."

"You'll be faintin' for somethin' to eat," said Joan, moving toward the
kitchen.

"No, I ain't," said Adam, laying a detaining hand upon her. "I couldn't
touch a thing: I want to be a bit quiet, that's all. My head seems all
of a miz-maze like."

"Then I'll just run down and see uncle," said Joan, "and try and
persuade un to come home alongs, shall I?"

Adam gave an expressive movement of his face. "You can try," he said,
"but you haven't got much chance o' bringin' him, poor old chap! He
thinks, like the rest of 'em, that they've done a fine night's work,
and they must keep it up by drinking to blood and glory. I only hope it
may end there, but if it doesn't, whatever comes, Jerrem's the one
who's got to answer for it all."

While he was saying these words Adam was pulling off his jacket, and
now went to the kitchen to find some water with which to remove the
black and dirt from his begrimed face and hands.

Eve hastened to assist him, but not before Joan had managed, by laying
her finger on her lip, to attract her attention. "For goodness
gracious' sake," she whispered, "don't 'ee brathe no word 'bout the
letter to un: there'd be worse than murder 'twixt 'em now."

Eve nodded an assurance of silence, and, opening the door, Joan went
out into the street, already alive with people, most of them bent on
the same errand as herself, anxious to hear the incidents of the fight
confirmed by the testimony of the principal actors.

The gathering-point was the sail-house behind the Peak, and thither, in
company with several friends, Joan made her way, and soon found herself
hailed with delight by Uncle Zebedee and Jerrem, both of whom were by
this time primed up to giving the most extraordinary and vivid accounts
of the fight, every detail of which was entirely corroborated by those
who had been present and those who had been absent; for the constant
demand made on the keg of spirits which, in honor of the _victory_, old
Zebedee had insisted on having broached there, was beginning to take
effect, so that the greater portion of the listeners were now turned
into talkers, and thus it was impossible to tell those