"No."
"Ded'n 'ee? law, that wos a purty taale, that wos. 'Twud maake 'ee scat yer zides weth laffin. But there, you genlemen waan't care to do that. Wot wos us talkin' bout, then?"
"You said you couldn't sleep last night."
"To be zure I ded. I'll tell 'ee. Old Martin do do a bit ov smugglin', and do dail weth the smugglers, and as you be'ant a gover'ment man I may tell 'ee that he brought me a vew ankers of things laast night laate. He ded'n laive me till after twelve o'clock. Well, when 'ee wos gone off I went to bed, and wos just going off to slaip when our Tryphena beginned a squall. That zet off Casteena, and Casteena off Tamzin, and in a vew minutes the 'ouse wos like Bedlam. You be'ant married, be 'ee, sur?"
"No."
"Then you doan knaw nothin bout life, you doan't. Gor jay! ow they cheldern ded screech for sure. But they ded'n waake mauther, not they. She slaiped through et oal, and snored like a tomcat into the bargain. Aw she's a gefted wumman, my wife es. But owsummever, I got em off again arter a bit and got into bed again. I wos just gittin braave'n slaipy when I 'eerd the sound of osses comin from Kernick way. 'Gor jay!' ses I, 'tes the exciseman! He've bin fer ould Martin and now he's comin fer me.'"
At this I became interested. "The sound of horses," I said; "were they coming fast?"
"Aw iss, braave coose, but not gallopin'. Well I lied luff and wos oal ov a sweat, but twadd'n no excisemen t'oal, fer just as they got by the church gates they stopped for a minit."
"What time was this?"
"Aw 'bout haaf-past two or dree o'clock. Well, I 'eerd 'em talkin', and arter a bit I 'eerd a wumman spaik, so you may be sure I pricked up my ears like a greyhound when he do 'ear a spaniel yelp among the vuss bushes. So up I gits and looks out."