“O man!” cried Sir Hector bitterly, “is it no’ a fearfu’ thocht that Sussex lads—aye, neighbours belike, may be murderin’ each ither?” “Why, sir,” answered Mr. Bunkle, “it be only the sojers, d’ye see——” “The soldiers!” exclaimed Sir Hector, “and ’tis Sayle hath brought ’em! Look’ee, John, hitherto all men, coastguard, preventive and trader, being Sussex men, have lived together like brothers—which, according to ‘The Word,’ is a vera desirable an’ blessed thing, y’ ken, John—not that I haud wi’ the nee-farious traffic, mind ye, but ... but ... aweel, damn Sayle, onyway!” “’Eartily, sir! But never worrit,” admonished Mr. Bunkle philosophically. “Arter arl, it be only sojers a-shootin’ in the dark ... an’ even roses ’as thorns, sir, and——” Here Mr. Bunkle paused as more shots rang out. “Tae the de’il wi’ y’r thorrns, man!” cried Sir Hector, “yon was much nearer.” “Why, so it were, sir,” Mr. Bunkle admitted; “but they be only shootin’ at Jarge Potter, I do ’ope——” “Hope, man, hope?” questioned Sir Hector fiercely. “Aye, sir; ye see, whiles they sojers was a-laying in wait for Jarge, Jarge were a-layin’ in wait for they wi’ ponies an’ tubs arl complete an’ ’arf a dozen stout lads. Well, sirs, s’ soon as they sojers spy Jarge, away Jarge goes, though not too fast, an’ they sojers arter ’im. Jarge do know every yard o’ the country ’ereabouts, ah, blindfold ’e do—an’ leads they sojers up an’ down an’ ’ere an’ there by the ’ardest ways ’till, being a-top of an ’ill, Jarge gi’es the word, the lads unloose a tub an’ away goes that theer tub a-rollin’ an’ a-boundin’ down a-top o’ they sojers, d’ye see, an’ away goes Jarge again in the dark ’till ’e feels like lettin’ they sojers ’ave another ’un an’ another ’till arl ’is tubs be gone ... an’ then gallop it is an’ away goes Jarge leavin’ they sojers wi’ naun to show for their ’ard labour ’cept mud an’ gubber an’ bruises, d’ye see!” “Ah—but the tubs, Peter man, they hae the tubs!” “Oh ah, sir, they ’ave the tubs—plenty on ’em, sir, full o’ ditch-watter! And the rest o’ the lads safe away wi’ the stuff—ah, it should be arl stowed safe an’ sound by now, I rackon! So doan’t ye worry your ’ead nor yet grizzle, Sir ’Ector. They sojers woan’t never ketch Jarge, not by no means, an’ in a bit they’ll be a-marchin’ back a-carryin’ o’ they tubs o’ watter mighty careful an’ that ’appy-’earted, sir—like birds they’ll be—’till they finds out, d’ye see. So——”