his half as tight as wax. You
bound me to no such partnership, before you told the story; and I am not
sure, by any means, of your right to do so afterwards."

"Tush!" he replied: "I know you too well, to look for meanness in you.
If from pure goodwill, John Ridd, and anxiety to relieve you, I made no
condition precedent, you are not the man to take advantage, as a lawyer
might. I do not even want your promise. As sure as I hold this glass,
and drink your health and love in another drop (forced on me by pathetic
words), so surely will you be bound to me, until I do release you. Tush!
I know men well by this time: a mere look of trust from one is worth
another's ten thousand oaths."

"Jeremy, you are right," I answered; "at least as regards the issue.
Although perhaps you were not right in leading me into a bargain like
this, without my own consent or knowledge. But supposing that we should
both be shot in this grand attack on the valley (for I mean to go
with you now, heart and soul), is Lorna to remain untold of that which
changes all her life?"

"Both shot!" cried Jeremy Stickles: "my goodness, boy, talk not like
that! And those Doones are cursed good shots too. Nay, nay, the yellows
shall go in front; we attack on the Somerset side, I think. I from a
hill will reconnoitre, as behoves a general, you shall stick behind a
tree, if we can only find one big enough to hide you. You and I to be
shot, John Ridd, with all this inferior food for powder anxious to be
devoured?"

I laughed, for I knew his cool hardihood, and never-flinching courage;
and sooth to say no coward would have dared to talk like that.

"But when one comes to think of it," he continued, smiling at himself;
"some provision should be made for even that unpleasant chance. I will
leave the whole in writing, with orders to be opened, etc., etc.--Now no
more of that, my boy; a cigarro after schnapps, and go to meet my yellow
boys."

His "yellow boys," as he called the Somersetshire trained bands, were
even now coming down the valley from the London Road, as every one since
I went up to town, grandly entitled the lane to the moors. There was one
good point about these men, that having no discipline at all, they made
pretence to none whatever. Nay, rather they ridiculed the thing, as
below men of any spirit. On the other hand, Master Stickles's troopers
looked down on these native fellows from a height which I hope they may
never tumble, for it would bre