"Good. No more risks to-night. And, Nance?"
"Yes."
"If anything bad should happen, call, shout, someone will be within hearing. We should break in and chance the rest. See?"
"Yes."
"Good night, child."
"Good night, Jeremy, good night."
[XXXV]
Parson Goffin came cantering up to Rush Heath House, his face radiant, his nag's coat shining with sweat. The parson's face glowed, and he was in magnificent good humour. Bumpers of exultation, and of far stronger drink, had been tossed down the throats of many Sussex worthies that morning. The powder on his coat and waistcoat showed that Mr. Goffin had been taking snuff with feverish exhilaration.
He pulled up in front of the house, waving his hat, and shouting.
"Hallo, there, Squire—Jeremy—three cheers for old England."