f course he
hath gone home long ago. Blind man's holiday, as we call it. I can see
all over the place; and there is not even a rabbit there.'

At that I drew my breath again, and thanked God I had gotten my coat on.

'Squire is right,' said Charlie, who was standing up high (on a root
perhaps), 'there is nobody there now, captain; and lucky for the poor
devil that he keepeth workman's hours. Even his chopper is gone, I see.'

'No dog, no man, is the rule about here, when it comes to coppice work,'
continued young de Whichehalse; there is not a man would dare work
there, without a dog to scare the pixies.'

'There is a big young fellow upon this farm,' Carver Doone muttered
sulkily, 'with whom I have an account to settle, if ever I come across
him. He hath a cursed spite to us, because we shot his father. He was
going to bring the lumpers upon us, only he was afeared, last winter.
And he hath been in London lately, for some traitorous job, I doubt.'

'Oh, you mean that fool, John Ridd,' answered the young squire; 'a very
simple clod-hopper. No treachery in him I warrant; he hath not the head
for it. All he cares about is wrestling. As strong as a bull, and with
no more brains.'

'A bullet for that bull,' said Carver; and I could see the grin on his
scornful face; 'a bullet for ballast to his brain, the first time I come
across him.'

'Nonsense, captain! I won't have him shot, for he is my old
school-fellow, and hath a very pretty sister. But his cousin is of a
different mould, and ten times as dangerous.'

'We shall see, lads, we shall see,' grumbled the great black-bearded
man. 'Ill bodes for the fool that would hinder me. But come, let us
onward. No lingering, or the viper will be in the bush from us. Body and
soul, if he give us the slip, both of you shall answer it.'

'No fear, captain, and no hurry,' Charlie answered gallantly, 'would I
were as sure of living a twelvemonth as he is of dying within the hour!
Extreme unction for him in my bullet patch. Remember, I claim to be his
confessor, because he hath insulted me.'

'Thou art welcome to the job for me,' said Marwood, as they turned away,
and kept along the hedge-row; 'I love to meet a man sword to sword; not
to pop at him from a foxhole.'

What answer was made I could not hear, for by this time the stout ashen
hedge was between us, and no other gap to be found in it, until at the
very bottom, where the corner of the copse was. Yet I was not quit of
d