“But he’ll shoot his sen oop in yon hut, squire, and fire at us and bring us down.”
“There will only be time for one shot, Mr Tallington,” said Marston quietly, “and we can fetch him out before he has a chance to reload. Mr Winthorpe is right.”
“Oh well, I wean’t stick out,” said the farmer rather sulkily; “but Dave’s a rare good shot and one of us will hev to go home flat on his back before we get up to yon wood.”
“He will not dare to fire,” said the squire firmly.
“I do not agree with you, Mr Winthorpe,” said Marston. “The man is desperate, and he will do anything now to escape.”
“And if he can’t,” cried Farmer Tallington, “he’ll die like a rat in a corner, biting, so look out. He’s got that long gun of his loaded and ready for the first man who goes up to yon hut, and that man arn’t me.”
“I will go up first,” said the squire quietly; “and he will not dare to fire.”
“Bud he hev dared to fire, mester,” said the wheelwright.
“Yes, at those who did not see him lurking in some hiding-place, but he will not dare to fire now.”
“He can’t fire, father,” cried Dick excitedly.