There were plenty of water-fowl in the marsh; and there was something else which Mildred did not seem to like. While George was quack-quacking, and making himself as like a little goose as he could, Mildred softly called to Ailwin, and beckoned her to the hedge. Ailwin came, swinging the great spade in her right hand, as easily as Mildred could flourish George's whip. "Look,--look there!--under that bank, by the dyke!" said Mildred, as softly as if she had been afraid of being heard at a yard's distance. "Eh! Look--if it be not the gipsies!" cried Ailwin, almost as loud as if she had been talking across the marsh. "Eh dear! We have got the gipsies upon us now; and what will become of my poultry? Yon is a gipsy tent, sure; and we must tell the master and mistress, and keep an eye on the poultry. Sure, yon is a gipsy tent." Little George, thinking that everybody was very much frightened, began to roar; and that made Ailwin talk louder still, to comfort him; so that nothing that Mildred said was heard. At last, she pulled Ailwin's apron, so that the tall woman stooped down, to ask what she wanted. "I do not think it is the gipsies," said she. "I am afraid it is worse than that. I am afraid it is the Redfurns. This is just the way they settle themselves--in just that sort of tent--when they come to fowl, all autumn." "If I catch that Roger," said Ailwin, "I'll--." And she clenched her hand, as if she meant to do terrible things, if she caught Roger. "I will go and call father, shall I?" said Mildred, her teeth chattering, as she stood in the hot sun. She was turning to go up the garden, when a laugh from George made her look back again. She saw a head covered with an otter-skin cap,--the face looking very cross and threatening, peeping over the hedge,--which was so high above the marsh, that the person must have climbed the bank on purpose to look into the garden. There was no mistaking the face. It was certainly Roger Redfurn--the plague of the settlers, who, with his uncle, Stephen Redfurn, was always doing all the mischief he could to everybody who had, as he said, trespassed on the marshes. Nobody liked to see the Redfurns sitting down in the neighbourhood; and still less, skulking about the premises. Mildred flew towards the mill; while Ailwin, who never stopped to consider what was wise, and might not, perhaps, have hit upon wisdom if she had, took up a stone, and told Roger he had better be gone, for that he had no friends here. Roger seemed to have just come from some orchard; for he pulled a hard apple out of his pocket, aimed it at Ailwin's head, and struck her such a blow on the nose as made her eyes water. While she was wiping her eyes with her apron, and trying to see again, Roger coaxed the child to bring him his apple again, and disappeared.