“Well, Vicar, we must all take the fortune of war. Of course, the rustics grumble when hungry soldiers seize their goods--but how are the officers to check starving men? That is what I was last night urging on old Sir Richard Hopton, who does naught but complain of the Canon Frame garrison. ‘Good Sir,’ I said to him, ‘What would you have me do? If the King gave me money I would pay for what we consume. But we are fighting for the divine right of Kings, and have surely a divine right to feed on something more satisfying than air.’” “’Tis not alone the taking of gear that I complain of,” said the Vicar gravely, “but of cruelties perpetrated by the soldiers--abominable cruelties which did not spare even women and children.” “Such things will happen in time of war, sir,” replied Norton. “What can you expect? Soldiers are but human. ’Tis only the Roundheads that set up for being saints. However, we must not scare Mistress Hilary with talk of cruelties. Believe me,” he said, turning to her, “these tales of the village folk never lose in the telling, and we are not so black as we’re painted. Prince Rupert----” “Prince Rupert is one of a thousand!” said Hilary, enthusiastically. “How I should like to see him! Do you think there is a chance that he may come this way?” “You are of a more martial spirit than the Vicar. That is generally the way. We poor soldiers mostly find favour with the fair sex--’tis one of our few compensations,” said Norton, venturing nearer to her and lowering his voice as he noticed that Dr. Coke had moved over to the table and taken up the bone brought in by the sexton. “Yet do not make me jealous of the Prince by dwelling overmuch on his merits. Am I to have my answer to-day?” She shook her head, and blushed deliciously. Norton had every intention of furtively kissing her hand, when the Vicar suddenly turned round and showed them his latest treasure. “Most curious! Most interesting! Why, the fellow must have been a giant. Hilary, look here! In life this man must have stood at least eight feet high. Where did it come from?” “I don’t know, Uncle,” said Hilary, shuddering. “Ugh! how gruesome it looks! I can’t bear skulls and bones!” Norton with a smile watched the two. “What a contrast,” he reflected. “That old bone collector and a maid whose cheeks are like a wild rose! I wonder if the parson will get in the way of my designs?” He was roused from his reverie by the entrance of Mrs. Durdle and the customary tray of cakes and cider. The Vicar re-crossed the room with an eager question on his lips. “Where did this come from, Mrs. Durdle? To whom am I indebted for this very rare bone?” “Why, sir, ’twas Zachary brought it, and do now let me take it back to him. It gives me the creeps to see churchyard bones lying round loose.” “Well, I suppose if Zachary dug it up we ought to give it Christian burial,” said the Vicar regretfully, “but it does seem a pity. A most rare and interesting bone.”