“Better the affray should be here than in the village among the women and children.”
She ran on again, but not so fast. Again she blew the horn. And now in the distance she heard the village folk coming down the coombe.
“They 'll think I 'm calling them to hear tales by the sea,—or that some mishap is befallen me.”
She heard them laughing as they came, and presently three or four appeared among the trees, and more, and more, some forty of old men and young, and little lads. Behind were women.
“The French!” she cried; and at that word the foremost men stood still.
“We 'll fling them back into the sea, that dare to set foot in England! We 'll”—
Something in their faces made her falter.
“'T is but only one little ship,” she added hastily. “We are so many we can—Brothers—brothers!”
For they were moving backward; already those behind had turned tail and run.
“I say we 're two to one,” she shouted desperately. “Come down and drive them back! Peter, Peter, speak to them!”