“’Ees,” agreed Jim meditatively. “If there’s six of us, we ought to be able to do summat.”
It was late when he left the rectory, and he bent his steps immediately to a small hostelry in the town, which he occasionally patronised, but which the condition of his spirits had not permitted him to frequent of late, dreading as he did the facetious remarks of his cronies.
On pushing open the swing door, he found himself at once in the midst of a party of heated disputants, and the first phrase which greeted his ears revealed that the subject of the argument was the very one which occupied his own thoughts.
“I d’ ’low I’d knock that there blasted, broad-brimmed hat off his head so soon as I’d look at en—and his head too if it comes to that.”
“Ah!” growled another, “I be pure sorry they Boers haven’t a-done it for en. I can’t believe they be such good shots as they do say, or they’d ha’ had it off afore now, wi’ their guns and their cannons. It be always a poppin’ up where it bain’t wanted.”
“Haw—haw,” chimed in a third voice, “I d’ ’low Trooper Willcocks’ head were a deal too nigh Rosie Adlam’s last night to suit ’ee, Tom. Ah, ’twas a very tender sight, goin’ along by the top of the hedge—d’you mind, Billy?”
“An’ poor Chrissy Baverstock standin’ all alone at the corner of the lane, fit to bu’st wi’ jealousy—why that’s Jim Hardy, bain’t it? We was just a-talkin’ o’ your girl, Jim; ’tis a pity you weren’t about last night—ye mid ha’ had a chance, for Trooper Willcocks was givin’ Rosie a turn.”
Jim breathed a benediction, equally applicable to all the parties in question, and elbowed his way to the front.
“He’s took up wi’ Rosie now, has he?” he inquired, “’twon’t last—nay, ’twon’t last, sure. She never were fit to hold a candle to Chrissy.”
Rosie’s discarded young man was still sufficiently susceptible where she was concerned to be disposed to take up the cudgels in her defence, and was opening his mouth to make some angry rejoinder, when he was prevented by the first speaker, who, removing a long clay pipe from his mouth, and waving it solemnly in the air, commanded silence.
“Boys,” he said, “this here bain’t no time for quarrelling. As we was a-sayin’ afore Jim Hardy come in, summat must be done. It bain’t only Chrissy and Rosie—it’s every maid in the whole countryside. So soon as ever that there chap comes in sight, in his old yaller coat and breeches, and them there bandaged legs, and cockin’ his hat so knowin’ over his eye, the maids goes fair silly. I’ve seen it myself,” he added feelingly.