"Let go, Comely, old boy," said his master, stooping to release the man, who, half dead with fright, lay groaning where Gumley had dropped him. "Why, what are ye bellowing like a sea-serpent for?" he added. "His teeth never went further than your leggings! Who be ye for a chicken-hearted—why, dash my buttons, ’tis Bill Gudgeon! Oh, Billy, what a’ example to set your good feyther! Oh, my goodness, won’t he be took bad with the flutters when he hears this! Ahoy, Mr.——! Avast there, Joe Gumley, blowed if you wasn’t just a-going to put your foot in it. Billy, my son, you come along o’ me." He hauled the trembling youth into the kitchen, and pushed him into a chair, where he sat immovable, in mortal terror of the bulldog, which stood by, fixing him with his thirsty eyes. Meanwhile Jack had gone to the upper window to see what had become of the enemy. They were out of sight, but when he opened the window he guessed by their voices that they were in conference just beyond the fence. "Ay, and more’n Gumley!" In the still air of the frosty March evening the hoarse whisper came clearly to Jack’s ears: "In course; there was his dog." "I knows that. But I seed another man, all in black, with his hat over his eyes and his face all swaddled up: Goodman hisself, maybe." "Well, I be gwine home along. I’ve got a score o’ pellets somewhere about my legs, and they’ll p’ison my blood less I pick ’em out soon." "Ay true, and we’ll go lame for a month or more. Chok’ it all! Who’d ha’ thowt old Joe would ha’ bin so fierce!" As they were moving away, a gig rattled up and stopped. "’Tis Mr. Gudgeon, so ’tis," Jack heard a rough voice say. "Not so loud!" was the hasty answer. "What luck, lads?" "None at all, and be hanged to it. We’ve not got nowt but a trouncing, Mr. Gudgeon." "Lower, speak lower, man. What happened?" "Blunderbuss and cutlass and dog’s teeth; that’s what happened, Mr. Gudgeon, as your boy Bill could tell ’ee. Why, where be the lad?" "Been and creeped home along, by the look o’t," said another man. "He bean’t here. There’s blood for ’ee! There’s spirit! What a bold-hearted first-born you have got, to be sure, Mr. Gudgeon!" "Hush, man! Here, come along. I can take four or five of ’ee in the gig, and you can tell me the whole story as we go." The gig rattled away; the men for whom there was not room shambled after; and Jack smiled as he returned to the kitchen. "There, Comely, watch him!" Gumley was saying. "I be gwine to look around the garden, sir, to make sure none on ’em be left." Jack made no reply, but stood at the door while Gumley stumped round the inclosure. He came back by and by grinning. "They be all gone, sir, all but this." He held up a pail out of which the handle of a brush was sticking, and a bundle of feathers. "’Twas by the back door, sir." "Ah! I’ve a notion. Shut the door and come along, Gumley."