Presently Rebow rose, slowly, from his seat, and laying aside his gun said, 'I too have brought a present, but not for Glory. She must know nothing of this, it is for you. I put the keg outside the door under the whitethorn. I knew a drop of spirits was good for the ague. We get spirits cheap, or I would not give you any.' He was unable to do a gracious act without marring its merit by an ungracious word. 'I will fetch it in. May it comfort you in the chills.'
He went out of the house and returned with a little keg under his arm. 'Where is it to go?' he asked.
'Oh, Master Rebow! this is good of you, and I am thankful. My ague does pull me down sorely.'
'Damn your ague, who cares about it!' he said surlily. 'Where is the keg to go?'
'Let me roll it in,' said the old woman, jumping up. 'There are better cellars and storeplaces here than anywhere between this and Tiptree Heath.'
'Saving mine at Red Hall, and those at Salcot Rising Sun,' interjected the man.
'You see, Rebow, in times gone by, a great many smuggled goods were stowed away here; but much does not come this way now,' with a sigh.
'It goes to Red Hall instead,' said Rebow. 'Ah! if you were there, your life would be a merry one. There! take the keg. I have had trouble enough bringing it here. You stow it away where you like, yourself; and draw me a glass, I am dry.'
He flung himself in the chair again, and let the old woman take up and hug the keg, and carry it off to some secure hiding-place where in days gone by many much larger barrels of brandy and wine had been stored away. She soon returned.
'I have not tapped this,' she said. 'The liquor will be muddy. I have drawn a little from the other that you gave me.'