"Ay, and no Mike to get you into trouble. Be fine, wouldn't it?"

"Glorious, Jem."

"Mean to go, Master Don?"

"What, and be a miserable coward? No."

"But you was a-thinking something of the kind, sir."

"Yes, I was, Jem. Everybody is stupid sometimes, and I was stupid then.
No. I've thought better of it."

"And you won't go, sir?"

"Go? No. Why, it would be like saying what Mike accused me of was
true."

"So it would, sir. Now that's just how I felt. I says to myself,
`Jem,' I says, `don't you stand it. What you've got to do is to go
right away and let Sally shift for herself; then she'd find out your
vally,' I says, `and be sorry for what she's said and done,' but I knew
if I did she'd begin to crow and think she'd beat me, and besides, it
would be such a miserable cowardly trick. No, Mas' Don, I'm going to
grin and bear it, and some day she'll come round and be as nice as she's
nasty now."

"Yes, that's the way to look at it, Jem; but it's a miserable world,
isn't it?"

"Well, I arn't seen much on it, Mas' Don. I once went for a holiday as
far as Bath, and that part on it was miserable enough. My word, how it
did rain! In half an hour I hadn't got a dry thread on me. Deal worse
than Bristol, which isn't the most cheersome o' places when you're
dull."

"No, Jem, it isn't. Of course you'll be at the court to-morrow?"

"I suppose so, Mas' Don. And I say they'd better ask me if I think you
took that money. My! But I would give it to some on 'em straight. Can
you fight, Mas' Don?"

"I don't know, Jem. I never tried."

"I can. You don't know what a crack I could give a man. It's my arms
is so strong with moving sugar-hogsheads, I suppose. I shouldn't wish
to be the man I hit if I did my best."

"You mean your worst, Jem."

"Course I do, Mas' Don. Well, as I was going to say, I should just like
to settle that there matter with Mr Mike without the magistrates. You
give him to me on a clear field for about ten minutes, and I'd make
Master Mike down hisself on his knees, and say just whatever I pleased."

"And what good would that do, Jem?"

"Not much to him, Mas' Don, because he'd be so precious sore afterwards,
but it would do me good, and I would feel afterwards what I don't feel
now, and that's cheerful. Never mind, sir, it'll all come right in the
end. Nothing like coming out and sitting all alone when you're crabby.
Wind seems to blow it away. When you've been sitting