rable), and
politics, whether true to the King and the Pope, or otherwise.

Jeremy Stickles' third business was entirely political; to learn the
temper of our people and the gentle families, to watch the movements of
the trained bands (which could not always be trusted), to discover any
collecting of arms and drilling of men among us, to prevent (if need
were, by open force) any importation of gunpowder, of which there had
been some rumour; in a word, to observe and forestall the enemy.

Now in providing for this last-mentioned service, the Government had
made a great mistake, doubtless through their anxiety to escape any
public attention. For all the disposable force at their emissary's
command amounted to no more than a score of musketeers, and these
so divided along the coast as scarcely to suffice for the duty of
sentinels. He held a commission, it is true, for the employment of the
train-bands, but upon the understanding that he was not to call upon
them (except as a last resource), for any political object; although
he might use them against the Doones as private criminals, if found
needful; and supposing that he could get them.

'So you see, John,' he said in conclusion, 'I have more work than tools
to do it with. I am heartily sorry I ever accepted such a mixed and
meagre commission. At the bottom of it lies (I am well convinced) not
only the desire to keep things quiet, but the paltry jealousy of the
military people. Because I am not a Colonel, forsooth, or a Captain in
His Majesty's service, it would never do to trust me with a company of
soldiers! And yet they would not send either Colonel or Captain, for
fear of a stir in the rustic mind. The only thing that I can do with
any chance of success, is to rout out these vile Doone fellows, and burn
their houses over their heads. Now what think you of that, John Ridd?'

'Destroy the town of the Doones,' I said, 'and all the Doones inside it!
Surely, Jeremy, you would never think of such a cruel act as that!'

'A cruel act, John! It would be a mercy for at least three counties. No
doubt you folk, who live so near, are well accustomed to them, and would
miss your liveliness in coming home after nightfall, and the joy of
finding your sheep and cattle right, when you not expected it. But after
awhile you might get used to the dullness of being safe in your beds,
and not losing your sisters and sweethearts. Surely, on the whole, it is
as pleasant not to be robbed a