"That's as may be. If the Lord don't send you sons, the Devil will send you nephews--you know the old saying. Not but what Vivian's boys and girls are a very nice lot--I like 'em all very well indeed. Mark's different--clever enough, but made of another clay. His mother was a retiring, humble woman--frightened of her own shadow, you might say. However, Cora will wake him into a cheerfuller conceit of himself." There was an interruption, for Dennis Masterman suddenly filled the doorway. "The very men I want," he said; then he entered. "Fine sweltering weather for the harvest, your honour," piped an old fellow who sat on a settle by the window with a mug of beer beside him. "So it is, Abel, and I hope there's another month of it to come. Give me half a pint of the mild, will you, Baskerville? 'Tis about the rehearsal I've looked in. Thursday week is the day--at seven o'clock sharp, remember. And I'm very anxious that everybody shall know their words. It will save a lot of trouble and help us on." "I've got mine very near," said Nathan. "So have I," declared Mr. Gollop. "Here I, the King of Egypt, boldly do appear; St. Garge, St. Garge, walk in, my only son and heir!" "Yes, but you mustn't say '_h_eir'; the h isn't sounded, you know. Has anybody seen Ned Baskerville? I heard that he was in trouble." "Not at all," said Nathan. "He's all right--a lazy rascal. 'Twas only another of his silly bits of work with the girls. Running after Mr. Chave's daughter. Like his cheek!" Mr. Masterman looked astonished. "I thought Mr. Chave----" he said. "Exactly, vicar; you thought right. 'Tis just his handsome face makes my nephew so pushing. We be a yeoman race, we Baskervilles, though said to be higher once; but of course, as things are, Ned looking there was just infernal impudence, though his good old pig-headed father, my brother, couldn't see it. He's only blind when Ned's the matter." "'Twas said he was going to jump in the river," declared the ancient Abel. "Nonsense and rubbish!" declared Nathan. "Ned's not that sort. Wait till he sees himself in the glittering armour of St. George, and he'll soon forget his troubles." "We must talk about the dresses after rehearsal. A good many can be made at home." "Be you going to charge at the doors?" asked Mr. Gollop. "I don't see why for we shouldn't." "Yes, certainly I am," answered Dennis. "The money will go to rehanging the bells. That's settled. Well, remember. And stir up Joe Voysey, Thomas. You can do anything with him, but I can't. Remind him about the French Eagle. He's only got to learn six lines, but he says it makes his head ache so badly that he's sure he'll never do it." "I'll try and fire the man's pride," declared Mr. Gollop. "Joe's not a day over sixty-eight, and he's got a very fair share of intellect. He shall learn it, if I've got to teach him." "That's right. Now I must be off."