"I should think they wasn't, neither," chuckled Uncle Zebedee.
"Sneakin', cowardly lot! they was game enough whiles they was creepin'
up behind, but, lors! so soon as us shawed our faces, and they seed
they'd got men to dale with, there was another tale to tell, and no
mistake. I much doubt whether or no wan amongst 'em had ever smelt
powder afore our Jerrem here let 'em have a sniff o' his mixin'. 'Tis
my belief--and I ha'n't a got a doubt on the matter, neither--that if
he hadn't let fly when he did they'd ha' drawed off and gone away
boastin' that they'd got the best o' it."

"Well, and more's the pity you didn't let 'em, then," said Joan. "I
would, I knaw. Safe bind's safe find, and you can never tell when
fightin' begins where 'tis goin' to end to."

"It shouldn't ha' ended where it did if I'd had my way," said Jerrem.

"Awh, well! there, never mind," said old Zebedee. "You'll have a chance
agen, never fear, and then we must make 'ee capen. How'd that plaze
'ee, eh?"

Jerrem's face bespoke his satisfaction. "Take care I don't hold 'ee to
yer word," he said, laughing. "I've got witnesses, mind, to prove it:
here's Barnabas here, and Zeke Teague, and they won't say me nay, I'll
wager--will 'ee, lads?"

"Wa-all, bide a bit, bide a bit," said Zebedee, winking in appreciation
of this joke. "There'll be two or three o' the oldsters drap in durin'
the ebenin', and then us 'll have a bit of a jaw together on it, and
weigh sides on the matter."