Next afternoon, at four, he entered the sanded bar of Saint's tavern. Saint drove his 'bus to Salisbury upon alternate days. He had a man to take his place upon the other days when business kept him at home. Behind the bar stood a fresh-coloured young woman, quick of tongue and hand, floridly good-looking, with very alert eyes. Gossip affirmed that she was secretly engaged to Saint. Jane Mucklow remarked that the hussy ought to be, if she wasn't. Uncle greeted her pleasantly, nodded to those present, called for a tankard of ale, and enquired tenderly after Saint Willum. The young woman frowned. Then she said sharply: "I've a mind to tell you something." The company present pricked ears. Uncle smiled, drawing himself up, inflating his chest, quite ready for a preliminary spar. "You tell it, my girl. 'Tis crool to think o' what wimmen-folk suffer from allers holding their tongues." "Your tongue is too sharp. Mr. Saint is civil to you. Be civil to him. That's all." She drew his ale, and handed it to him. Uncle looked at her with twinkling eyes. She was making things easy for him, and he felt quite grateful to her. She had fired the first shot. This might or might not be used as a _casus belli_. He said, meaningly: "Be that advice or a warning like?" "Take it as both, Mr. Mucklow." "I will. Now, tell me this, my girl; be you speaking for yourself, or for your master? If you be speaking for yourself, I be minded to tell 'ee that you be paid to serve customers, and not to improve their manners. If you be speaking for Willum Saint, I thanks you very kindly and passes no more remarks." This, it will be admitted, was a crafty speech on Uncle's part, and pleased him mightily. The girl was sure to resent a rebuke before others, and already the gaffers were grinning at her. If she shifted responsibility to Saint Willum, a _casus belli_ had been established. The young woman lacked Uncle's _finesse_. She answered sullenly: "I spoke up for Mr. Saint, because he's not here to speak for himself." Uncle felt that this was not satisfactory enough, although promising. "You means," he said incisively, "that you speaks words which your master bain't man enough to speak for hisself, either to my face or behind me back?" The derisive intonation placed upon "master" brought a flush to the girl's cheek. Her eyes sparkled. And she believed Saint to be a man. "If you want it straight," she retorted, "the words I used have been spoken by Mr. Saint and others." "Thank 'ee," said Uncle, lifting his tankard. "I drinks to your good health, miss. Cheer oh! as our dear lads say."