'Well, so it be,' replied the wood nymph in the red petticoat, showing her fine teeth with a lazy grin.
'Who's a bin and done all that?' demanded Milly.
'Not you nor me, lass,' said the girl.
''Twas old Pegtop, your father, did it,' cried Milly, in rising wrath.
''Appen it wor,' she replied.
'And the gate locked.'
'That's it—the gate locked,' she repeated, sulkily, with a defiant side-glance at Milly.
'And where's Pegtop?'
'At t'other side, somewhere; how should I know where he be?' she replied.
'Who's got the key?'