ar about, from poor Kit Badcock to rich
Master Huckaback, there was not one but went heart and soul for stamping
out these firebrands.

The moon was lifting well above the shoulder of the uplands, when we,
the chosen band, set forth, having the short cut along the valleys to
foot of the Bagworthy water; and therefore having allowed the rest an
hour, to fetch round the moors and hills; we were not to begin our climb
until we heard a musket fired from the heights on the left-hand side,
where John Fry himself was stationed, upon his own and his wife's
request; so as to keep out of action. And that was the place where I had
been used to sit, and to watch for Lorna. And John Fry was to fire his
gun, with a ball of wool inside it, so soon as he heard the hurly-burly
at the Doone-gate beginning; which we, by reason of waterfall, could not
hear, down in the meadows there.

We waited a very long time, with the moon marching up heaven
steadfastly, and the white fog trembling in chords and columns, like
a silver harp of the meadows. And then the moon drew up the fogs, and
scarfed herself in white with them; and so being proud, gleamed upon the
water, like a bride at her looking-glass; and yet there was no sound of
either John Fry, or his blunderbuss.

I began to think that the worthy John, being out of all danger, and
having brought a counterpane (according to his wife's directions,
because one of the children had a cold), must veritably have gone to
sleep; leaving other people to kill, or be killed, as might be the will
of God; so that he were comfortable. But herein I did wrong to John,
and am ready to acknowledge it; for suddenly the most awful noise that
anything short of thunder could make, came down among the rocks, and
went and hung upon the corners.

"The signal, my lads," I cried, leaping up and rubbing my eyes; for even
now, while condemning John unjustly, I was giving him right to be hard
upon me. "Now hold on by the rope, and lay your quarter-staffs across,
my lads; and keep your guns pointing to heaven, lest haply we shoot one
another."

"Us shan't never shutt one anoother, wi' our goons at that mark, I
reckon," said an oldish chap, but as tough as leather, and esteemed a
wit for his dryness.

"You come next to me, old Ike; you be enough to dry up the waters; now,
remember, all lean well forward. If any man throws his weight back, down
he goes; and perhaps he may never get up again; and most likely he will
sho