“Our forefathers slaughtered them, spilled their blood all about, especially in this neighbourhood, destroyed their pleasant places, and left not, to use their own words, one stone upon another.”
“Yes, they did,” said the shepherd, looking aloft at the transverse stone.
“And it is well for them they did; whenever that stone, which English hands never raised, is by English hands thrown down, woe, woe, woe to the English race; spare it, English! Hengist spared it!—Here is sixpence.”
“I won’t have it,” said the man.
“Why not?”
“You talk so prettily about these stones; you seem to know all about them.”
“I never receive presents; with respect to the stones, I say with yourself, How did they ever come here?”
“How did they ever come here?” said the shepherd.
CHAPTER LXI.
The River—Arid Downs—A Prospect.