"Take care you don't hit Ned in real earnest, however, else you'd settle him and spoil the play," said Mr. Voysey. "'Twould be a terrible tantarra for certain if the Giant went and whipped St. George." "'Twouldn't be the first time, however," said Mr. Baskerville. "Would it, Ned?" Nathan and Ned's sisters appreciated this family joke. Then Mr. Gollop advanced a sentimental objection. "I may be wrong," he admitted, "but I can't help thinking it might be a bit ondecent for Ned Baskerville here to kill his father, even in play. You see, though everybody will know 'tis Ned and his parent, and that they'm only pretending, yet it might shock a serious-minded person here and there to see the son kill the father. I don't say I mind, as 'tis all make-believe and the frolic of a night; but--well, there 'tis." "You'm a silly old grandmother, and never no King of Egypt was such a fool afore," said Jack. "Pay no heed to him, reverend Masterman." Gollop snarled at Head, and they began to wrangle fiercely. Then Dennis closed the rehearsal. "That'll do for the present," he announced. "We've made a splendid start, and the thing to remember is that we meet here again this day week, at seven o'clock. And mind you know your part, Ned. Another of the songs will be ready by then; and the new harmonium will have come that my sister is going to play. And do look about, all of you, to find somebody who will take the Doctor." "We shall have the nation's eyes on us--not for the first time," declared Mr. Gollop as he tied a white wool muffler round his throat; "and I'm sure I hope one and all will do the best that's in 'em." The actors departed; the oil lamps were extinguished, and the vicar and his sister returned home. She said little by the way, and her severe silence made him rather nervous. "Well," he broke out at length, "jolly good, I think, for a first attempt--eh, Alice?" "I'm glad you were satisfied, dear. Everything depends upon us--that seems quite clear, at any rate. They'll all get terribly self-conscious and silly, I'm afraid, long before the time comes. However, we must hope for the best. But I shouldn't be in a hurry to ask anybody who really matters." CHAPTER XII In a triangle the wild land of the Rut sloped down from Hawk House to the valley beneath, and its solitary time of splendour belonged to Spring, when the great furzes were blooming and the white thorns filled the valley with light. Hither came Mark to keep tryst with Cora beside the stream. He walked not loverly but languid, for his mind was in trouble, and his gait reflected it. To water's brink he came, sat on a familiar stump above Torry Brook, and watched sunshine play over the ripples and a dance of flies upon the sunshine.