“Well, but who is safe? If I say a word to one of my men that he doesn’t like, he may serve me as Redmore has served Pooke.” “That’s true,” said Pepperill. “More’s the reason that Roger should be made an example of. If I see’d him I’d shoot him down as I would a wild beast, or hang him, as I might a lamb-worrying dog, with my own hands--that I would!” “I know, of those rascals who were sentenced to be hung in ’30, more than half got off with transportation; and of them as was transported, most got let off with six or seven years--more’s the pity.” “We’re too merciful--that’s our fault,” said Pasco. “Show no pity to the offender,--chief of all, to the incendiary,--and such crimes will soon be put a stop to. We encourage criminals by our over-gentleness.” “Well, I hope this firing o’ stacks won’t spread; but it’s like scarlet fever. What business are you on to-day?” “I’ve bought the oaks at Brimpts,” said Pepperill. “So I’ve heard.” “And I’ve a mind to dispose of the bark.” “Then here’s your man--Hamley the tanner.” The man alluded to came up--a tall, handsome fellow, with a cheery face. “Mr. Hamley,” said Pasco, “you’re the chap I want. I shall have tons o’ bark to sell shortly.” “Well, Mr. Pepperill, I’m always ready for bark, if the figure suits. Tan is my trade, you know.” “I shall have stuff the like of which you have not had the chance of buying, I’ll be bound. I’ve bought the oaks of Brimpts.” “What, at Dart-meet?” “Yes; bought the lot. The timber is three hundred years old; hard as iron. And conceive what the bark must be when the timber is so good.” “I doubt if we shall come to terms over that.” “Why not? You won’t have another chance. What will you give me a ton?” “Is the bark running now? It is full early. The sap don’t begin to rise so soon as this,--leastways, not in timber trees,--and the moor is always three weeks or a month behind the Hams.” “The bark will be all right, if you will buy. What is the market price?” “Best bark has been up to seven guineas, but it’s not that now. Five guineas is an outside price for thirty-year-old coppice.” “But Brimpts is not coppice--far from it.” “I know, and the value will be according. Sapling, of some forty years, comes second, at four guineas; then last quality is timber-bark, if not too old, say three pound ten.” “Three pound ten?” echoed Pepperill. “A pretty price, indeed. You do not understand. Brimpts oaks must be three hundred years old, and so worth seven guineas a ton.” “I won’t give three guineas for this bark. Take off a pound for every hundred years. If I take it, I don’t mind two guineas.” “Two guineas? that’s not worth having. The bark is first-rate--must be, it is so tremendous old.”