his writings. All the soldiers had been ordered away at full speed for
Exeter, to join the Duke of Albemarle, or if he were gone, to follow
him. As for us, who had fed them so long (although not quite for
nothing), we must take our chance of Doones, or any other enemies.

Now all these tidings moved me a little; not enough to spoil appetite,
but enough to make things lively, and to teach me that look of wisdom
which is bred of practice only, and the hearing of many lies. Therefore
I withheld my judgment, fearing to be triumphed over, if it should
happen to miss the mark. But mother and Lizzie, ten times in a day,
predicted all they could imagine; and their prophecies increased in
strength according to contradiction. Yet this was not in the proper
style for a house like ours, which knew the news, or at least had known
it; and still was famous, all around, for the last advices. Even from
Lynmouth, people sent up to Plover's Barrows to ask how things were
going on: and it was very grievous to answer that in truth we knew not,
neither had heard for days and days; and our reputation was so great,
especially since the death of the King had gone abroad from Oare parish,
that many inquirers would only wink, and lay a finger on the lip, as if
to say, "you know well enough, but see not fit to tell me." And before
the end arrived, those people believed that they had been right all
along, and that we had concealed the truth from them.

For I myself became involved (God knows how much against my will and my
proper judgment) in the troubles, and the conflict, and the cruel work
coming afterwards. If ever I had made up my mind to anything in all my
life, it was at this particular time, and as stern and strong as could
be. I had resolved to let things pass,--to hear about them gladly, to
encourage all my friends to talk, and myself to express opinion upon
each particular point, when in the fullness of time no further doubt
could be. But all my policy went for nothing, through a few touches of
feeling.

One day at the beginning of July, I came home from mowing about noon, or
a little later, to fetch some cider for all of us, and to eat a morsel
of bacon. For mowing was no joke that year, the summer being wonderfully
wet (even for our wet country), and the swathe falling heavier over the
scythe than ever I could remember it. We were drenched with rain almost
every day; but the mowing must be done somehow; and we must trust to God
for t