because Devonshire was not ready, an elderly
gentleman of great authority-appeared among the bombardiers. On his
breast he wore a badge of office, and in his hat a noble plume of the
sea eagle, and he handed his horse to a man in red clothes.

"Just in time," he shouted; "and the Lord be thanked for that! By order
of His Majesty, I take supreme command. Ha, and high time, too, for it!
You idiots, where are you pointing your guns? What allowance have you
made for windage? Why, at that elevation, you'll shoot yourselves. Up
with your muzzles, you yellow jackanapes! Down on your bellies! Hand me
the linstock! By the Lord, you don't even know how to touch them off!"

The soldiers were abashed at his rebukes, and glad to lie down on their
breasts for fear of the powder on their yellow facings. And thus they
were shaken by three great roars, and wrapped in a cloud of streaky
smoke. When this had cleared off, and they stood up, lo! the houses
of the Doones were the same as before, but a great shriek arose on the
opposite bank, and two good horses lay on the ground; and the red men
were stamping about, and some crossing their arms, and some running for
their lives, and the bravest of them stooping over one another. Then as
Captain Purvis rushed up in great wrath, shouting: "What the devil do
you mean by this?" another great roar arose from across the valley, and
he was lying flat, and two other fine fellows were rolling in a furze
bush without knowledge of it. But of the general and his horse there was
no longer any-token.

This was the matter that lay so heavily on the breast of Captain Purvis,
sadly-crushed as it was already by the spiteful stroke bitterly intended
for him. His own men had meant no harm whatever, unless to the proper
enemy; although they appear to have been deluded by a subtle device
of the Councillor, for which on the other hand none may blame him. But
those redfaced men, without any inquiry, turned the muzz'l's of their
guns upon Somerset, and the injustice rankled for a generation between
two equally honest counties. Happily they did not fight it out through
scarcity of ammunition, as well as their mutual desire to go home and
attend to their harvest business.

But Anthony Purvis, now our guest and patient, became very difficult to
manage; not only because: of his three broken ribs, but the lowness of
the heart inside them. Dr. Cutcliffe Lane, a most cheerful man from that
cheerful town Southmolton, was