Ch. With black crapes over their faces?
Fa. No; they had steel caps on.—having crossed a dark heath, wound cautiously along the skirts of a deep forest....
Ch. They were ill-looking fellows, I dare say?
Fa. I cannot say so; on the contrary, they were as tall, personable men as most one shall see: leaving on their right hand an old ruined tower on the hill....
Ch. At midnight, just as the clock struck twelve; was it not, papa?
Fa. No, really; it was on a fine balmy summer’s morning;—they moved forward, one behind another....
Ch. As still as death, creeping along under the hedges?
Fa. On the contrary—they walked remarkably upright; and so far from endeavouring to be hushed and still, they made a loud noise as they came along, with several sorts of instruments.
Ch. But, papa, they would be found out immediately.
Fa. They did not seem to wish to conceal themselves: on the contrary, they gloried in what they were about. They moved forward, I say, to a large plain, where stood a neat pretty village which they set on fire.