"There's a time for a deer to move, and a time for a deer to couch," said the harbourer, using the familiar metaphors of his calling. "A time for 'un to stand at bay, and a time for 'un to break the bay. When a deer vinds itself hard pressed, and never a stick of covert for miles, the sensible creetur 'takes soil,'--do 'ee hearken to me, Captain, it takes soil, I say, and vinds its safety many a time in the salt sea. 'Tis not so fur from Porlock to Ilfracombe, but that theer good grey horse could cover the distance in half a day." He sidled farther off as he spoke, and seemed lost in contemplation of Katerfelto's points and symmetry, as he trotted by his side. "What should I do at Ilfracombe when I got there?" asked John Garnet; adding, impatiently, "Man alive! speak no longer in parables. If you've anything to say, out with it, and tell me what you mean!" Rube looked behind, before, and on each side; then he drew nearer and whispered-- "There be a price on thic' head o' yourn', Captain, a longish price, too. May-be more than it be worth." "I know it," answered John Garnet; "I've seen the bills. It's an easy way to get a hundred guineas, Rube. Why don't you earn the money yourself?" The old man looked hurt. "It's not honest wood-craft," said he. "Every beast of chase has a right to be hunted in season, and with a fair start. The hounds are on your track, Captain, I give you fair warning; but that's not all. There's one, a coarse black dog (Rube chuckled while he enunciated this conceit), as will never be off the line so long as the game is a-foot, nor leave the slot till he has the deer by the throat. Do you think you deceived _me_ awhile ago, when you two stood in a dead-lock together on yonder slab of stone? Double on him, Captain, I do tell 'ee, double on him, that's what _you've_ got to do. I've friends at Ilfracombe, free-traders they call 'em down there, they'd take any young man aboard as was well known to Red Rube. This here wind will serve, and I do know 'twill stay in the North for days together now, as though 'twere nailed there. God speed ye, young man. You mind what I tell 'ee. Keep your own counsel, and take a good hold of your horse's head!" Then he shook the pony's bridle, turned briskly down a coombe, and disappeared. CHAPTER XXVI. A HARD BARGAIN.