‘The rascals!’ said Latimer, getting now into a rage, though he had seemed quite meek when Stockdale first came up. ‘’Tis the same set of fellows. I know they were Moynton chaps to a man.’
‘But we can’t swear to ’em,’ said another. ‘Not one of ’em spoke.’
‘What are you going to do?’ said Stockdale.
‘I’d fain go back to Moynton, and have at ’em again!’ said Latimer.
‘So would we!’ said his comrades.
‘Fight till we die!’ said Latimer.
‘We will, we will!’ said his men.
‘But,’ said Latimer, more frigidly, as they came out of the plantation, ‘we don’t know that these chaps with black faces were Moynton men? And proof is a hard thing.’
‘So it is,’ said the rest.
‘And therefore we won’t do nothing at all,’ said Latimer, with complete dispassionateness. ‘For my part, I’d sooner be them than we. The clitches of my arms are burning like fire from the cords those two strapping women tied round ’em. My opinion is, now I have had time to think o’t, that you may serve your Gover’ment at too high a price. For these two nights and days I have not had an hour’s rest; and, please God, here’s for home-along.’