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on any wind, ye have taken many men's goods, and beaten and hanged not
a
few. Y' are called to count for this; in the end, I wot not how, ye have
ever the uppermost at law, and ye think all patched. But give me leave,
Sir Oliver: the man that ye have dispossessed and beaten is but the
angrier, and some day, when the black devil is by, he will up with his
bow and clout me a yard of arrow through your inwards."
"Nay, Bennet, y' are in the wrong. Bennet, ye should be glad to be
corrected," said Sir Oliver. "Y' are a prater, Bennet, a talker, a
babbler; your mouth is wider than your two ears. Mend it, Bennet, mend
it."
"
Nay, I say no more. Have it as ye list," said the retainer.
The priest now rose from the stool, and from the writing-case that hung
about his neck took forth wax and a taper, and a flint and steel. With
these he sealed up the chest and the cupboard with Sir Daniel's arms,
Hatch looking on disconsolate; and then the whole party proceeded,
somewhat timorously, to sally from the house and get to horse.
"'Tis time we were on the road, Sir Oliver," said Hatch, as he held the
priest's stirrup while he mounted.
"Ay; but, Bennet, things are changed," returned the parson. "There is
now no Appleyard--rest his soul!--to keep the garrison. I shall keep
you, Bennet. I must have a good man to rest me on in this day of black
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