“Well I’m blessed, if you aint a rum un. What! break a window. What’s the good of that ere?”
“Never you mind, do as I tell you, and all will be as right as the nail. I know every inch of the ground in this neighbourhood, and every stone in Wratton church.”
“Does yer?”
“Certainly.”
“And what’s the good on it if yer do?”
“Nothing in particular as I can see; but that ain’t the question. You play your part, and I’ll play mine. Yours is an easy one enough.”
“It aint wery difficult, if that’s all you want me to do.”
“That’s all; but here we are at the church.”
The two confederates passed through the gate, and reached the churchyard.
“Ah, it’s the same old place—not altered in the least,” cried the gipsy. “Just the same, but how changed to me!”