"You was always ready for anything. Nothing never puzzles you. My mother says that if an earthquake comed, you wouldn't run. But as for Jack Lee—well, I grant us liked him very well. But he turned traitor to please the women, an' I've done with him."
"Ah!—a face like his was bound to get him mixed up with the female sex."
"You didn't ought to pity him—such a renowned King's man as you be," declared Putt.
"You'm quite correct," assented the sergeant, proceeding with his bread and cheese. "But though a King's man, I'm one as looks to the bottom of my glass, and to the bottom of everything. Many a poisonous root do bear wholesome seed. I've had speech with that chap, an' I'm devilish sorry for him—sorrier than he is for himself."
"You'm such a large-minded warrior, Uncle Sep. I wish there was more Bradridge and less Putt in my character, I'm sure. Bradridges is always heroes."
"Always—to a man," admitted the sergeant. "But your mother is a very proper-minded woman, an' you've got proper feelings, though you wouldn't go for a sojer when I wanted you."
"If he'd 'listed now," said Tom, pointing with his thumb to John Lee, "he'd never have found hisself in this fix."
"True for you. I wish I could take him to barracks 'stead of Exeter gaol. A modest man; and since I give him your message that 'twas well with the young lady, he's been quite content. He told me he didn't fear death no more than I do."
"All comes of bad company," replied his nephew. "I was half in mind to take the man's hand just now, but I couldn't bring myself to do it."
The sergeant shook his head.