He rose as he spoke. Erect, he stood a head shorter than Jack.
"I beg you keep close to me till we are out of the wood. Ah! I feel sick, I am not able to walk so far. I am shaken; I can not wait on a lady this evening. Can you tell me a lodging in the village?"
"Do you know of one, Arthur?"
"There's old Mother Philpot; she could put him up."
"I thank you. Philpot: I will remember the name."
The boys walked with him until they reached the edge of the plantation. Then Arthur pointed out the path that led down to the village; the man refused their offer of further assistance, and when he had gone from sight they struck off at an angle toward the Grange.
Arthur was greatly excited at the incident, and talked about it all the way home. Jack was puzzled. It seemed so unlikely that a peddler carrying silks should go so far out of his way, and that he should be set upon and robbed of a bundle of samples when the more valuable bulk of his wares lay at Wickham Ferrers.
At dinner he mentioned the occurrence. Mr. Bastable was as much annoyed as concerned.
"This won't do," he said. "We're a peaceable and law-abiding folk here."
"The smugglers, cousin?"