He went down, and spoke to her. "Is she gone?" he asked.

"In course she is," replied Madge. "Do you think I was going to let her
stay till the old man was about?"

"How much money did you give her, besides what she had from me?"

"I made it five pounds in all; that will keep her for some time, and
then you must send her some more. If you let that wench starve, you
ought to be burnt alive. A MAN would have married her in spite of his
father."

"A likely story," said George, "that I was to disinherit myself for
her. However, she shan't want at present, or we shall have her back
again. And that won't do, you know."

"George," said Madge, "you promise to be as great a rascal as your
father."

The old man had, as Madge prophesied, come home very drunk the night
before, and had lain in bed later than usual, so that, when he came to
breakfast, he found George, gun in hand, ready to go out.

"Going shooting, my lad?" said the father. "Where be going?"

"Down through the hollies for a woodcock. I'll get one this morning,
it's near full moon."

All the morning they heard him firing in the bottom below the house,
and at one o'clock he came home, empty-handed.