soft air of the moorlands, anyhow the Doones increased much faster than
their honesty. At first they had brought some ladies with them, of good
repute with charity; and then, as time went on, they added to their
stock by carrying. They carried off many good farmers' daughters, who
were sadly displeased at first; but took to them kindly after awhile,
and made a new home in their babies. For women, as it seems to me, like
strong men more than weak ones, feeling that they need some staunchness,
something to hold fast by.

And of all the men in our country, although we are of a thick-set breed,
you scarce could find one in three-score fit to be placed among the
Doones, without looking no more than a tailor. Like enough, we could
meet them man for man (if we chose all around the crown and the skirts
of Exmoor), and show them what a cross-buttock means, because we are
so stuggy; but in regard of stature, comeliness, and bearing, no woman
would look twice at us. Not but what I myself, John Ridd, and one or two
I know of--but it becomes me best not to talk of that, although my hair
is gray.

Perhaps their den might well have been stormed, and themselves driven
out of the forest, if honest people had only agreed to begin with them
at once when first they took to plundering. But having respect for
their good birth, and pity for their misfortunes, and perhaps a little
admiration at the justice of God, that robbed men now were robbers,
the squires, and farmers, and shepherds, at first did nothing more than
grumble gently, or even make a laugh of it, each in the case of others.
After awhile they found the matter gone too far for laughter, as
violence and deadly outrage stained the hand of robbery, until every
woman clutched her child, and every man turned pale at the very name of
Doone. For the sons and grandsons of Sir Ensor grew up in foul liberty,