’Thenthoumayestevenstopa-bed，’theoldwomanmutteredsulkily。’AwouldneverhavelabouredhalfanhourtoawakeaPapisher。Buthearkenyouonething，youngman；Zummerzettthouart，bythybrogue；oratleastbythyunderstandingofit；noZummerzettmaidwilllookatthee，inspiteofthysizeandstature，unlessthoustrikestablowthisnight。’
’IlacknoZummerzettmaid，mistress：Ihaveafairerthanyourbrownthings；andforheralonewouldI
strikeablow。’
Atthistheoldwomangavemeup，asbeingbeyondcorrection：anditvexedmealittlethatmygreatfamehadnotreachedsofarasBridgwater，whenIthoughtthatitwenttoBristowe。ButthosepeopleinEastSomersetknownothingaboutwrestling。Devonistheheadquartersoftheart；andDevonisthecountyofmychieflove。Howbeit，myvanitywasmoved，bythissluruponit——forIhadtoldhermynamewasJohnRidd，whenIhadagallonofalewithher，ereeverIcameupstairs；andshehadnodded，insuchamanner，thatI
thoughtsheknewbothnameandfame——andherewasI，notonlyshaken，pinched，andwithmanyhairspulledout，inthemidstofmyfirstgoodsleepforaweek，butalsoabused，andtakenamiss，andwhichvexedmemostofallunknown。
Nowthereisnothinglikevanitytokeepamanawakeatnight，howeverhebeweary；andmostofall，whenhebelievesthatheisdoingsomethinggreat——thistime，ifneverdonebefore——yetotherpeoplewillnotsee，exceptwhattheymaylaughat；andsobefarabovehim，andsleepthemselvesthehappier。Thereforetheirsleeprobshisown；forallthingsplayso，inandoutwiththegodlyandungodlyevermovinginabalance，astheyhavedoneinmytime，almosteveryyearortwo，allthingshavesuchnicereplyofproducetothecallforit，andsuchaspreadacrosstheworld，givinghereandtakingthere，yetonthewholeprettyeven，thathaplysleepitselfhasbutacertainstock，andkeepsinhand，andsellstoflatteredwhichcanpay
thatwhichflattenedvanitycannotpay，andwillnotsuefor。
Bethatasitmay，Iwasbythistimewideawake，thoughmuchaggrievedatfeelingso，andthroughtheopenwindowheardthedistantrollofmusketry，andthebeatingofdrums，withaquickrub-a-dub，andthe’comeroundthecorner’oftrumpet-call。AndperhapsTomFaggusmightbethere，andshotatanymoment，andmydearAnnieleftapoorwidow，andmygodsonJackanorphan，withoutatoothtohelphim。
ThereforeIreviledmyselfforallmyheavylaziness；
andpartlythroughgoodhonestwill，andpartlythroughthestingsofpride，andyetalittleperhapsbyvirtueofayoungman’sloveofriot，upIarose，anddressedmyself，andwokeKickumswhowassnoring，andsetouttoseetheworstofit。Thesleepyhostlerscratchedhispoll，andcouldnottellmewhichwaytotake；whatoddstohimwhowasKing，orPope，solongashepaidhisway，andgotabitofbacononSunday？AndwouldI
pleasetorememberthatIhadrousedhimupatnight，andthequalityalwaysmadeapointofpayingfourtimesoverforaman’slossofhisbeauty-sleep。I
repliedthathislossofbeauty-sleepwasratherimprovingtoamanofsohighcomplexion；andthatI，beingnoneofthequality，mustpayhalf-qualityprices：andsoIgavehimdoublefee，asbecameagoodfarmer；andhewasgladtobequitofKickums；asIsawbytheturnofhiseye，whilegoingoutatthearchway。
Allthiswasdonebylanthornlight，althoughthemoonwashighandbold；andinthenorthernheaven，flagsandribbonsofajostlingpattern；suchasweoftenhaveinautumn，butinJulyveryrarely。OftheseMasterDrydenhasspokensomewhere，inhiscourtlymanner；butofhimIthinksolittle——becausebyfashionpreferredtoShakespeare——thatIcannotrememberthepassage；neitherisitacredittohim。
ThereforeIwasguidedmainlybythesoundofgunsandtrumpets，inridingoutofthenarrowways，andintotheopenmarshes。AndthusImighthavefoundmyroad，inspiteofallthespreadofwater，andtheglazeofmoonshine；butthat，asIfollowedsoundfarfromhedgeorcauseway，foglikeachestnut-treeinblossom，touchedwithmoonlightmetme。NowfogisathingthatIunderstand，andcandowithwellenough，whereIknowthecountry；buthereIhadneverbeenbefore。ItwasnothingtoourExmoorfogs；nottobecomparedwiththem；andallthetimeonecouldseethemoon；whichwecannotdoinourfogs；noreventhesun，foraweektogether。Yetthegleamofwateralwaysmakesthefogmoredifficult：likeacurtainonamirror；nonecantelltheboundaries。
Andherewehadbroad-waterpatches，inandout，inlaidonland，likemother-of-pearlinbrownShittimwood。
Toawildduck，bornandbredthere，itwouldalmostbeapuzzletofindherownnestamongstus；whatchancethenhadIandKickums，bothunusedtomarshandmere？
Eachtimewhenwethoughtthatwemustberight，nowatlast，bytrackorpassage，andapproachingtheconflict，withthesoundsofitwaxingnearer，suddenlyabreakofwaterwouldbelaidbeforeus，withthemoonlookingmildlyoverit，andthenorthernlightsbehindus，dancingdownthelinesoffog。
Itwasanawfulthing，IsayandtothisdayI
rememberit，tohearthesoundsofragingfight，andtheyellsofravingslayers，andthehowlsofpoormenstrickenhard，andshatteredfromwrathtowailing；
thensuddenlythedeadlowhush，asofasouldeparting，andspiritskneelingoverit。Throughthevapouroftheearth，andwhitebreathofthewater，andbeneaththepaleroundmoonbowingasthedriftwentby，allthisrushandpauseoffearpassedorlingeredonmypath。
Atlast，whenIalmostdespairedofescapingfromthistangleofspongybanks，andofhazycreeks，andreed-fringe，myhorseheardtheneighofafellow-horse，andwasonlytoogladtoanswerit；uponwhichtheother，havinglostitsrider，cameupandprickedhisearsatus，andgazedthroughthefogverysteadfastly。ThereforeIencouragedhimwithasoftandgenialwhistle，andKickumsdidhisbesttotempthimwithasnortofinquiry。However，nothingwouldsuitthatnag，excepttoenjoyhisnewfreedom；andhecaperedawaywithhistailsetonhigh，andthestirrup-ironsclashingunderhim。Therefore，ashemightknowtheway，andappearedtohavebeeninthebattle，wefollowedhimverycarefully；andheledustoalittlehamlet，calledasIfoundafterwardsWestZuyland，orZealand，sonamedperhapsfromitssituationamidthisinlandsea。
HeretheKing’stroopshadbeenquitelately，andtheirfireswerestillburning；butthementhemselveshadbeensummonedawaybythenightattackoftherebels。
HenceIprocuredformyguideayoungmanwhoknewthedistrictthoroughly，andwholedmebymanyintricatewaystotherearoftherebelarmy。Wecameuponabroadopenmoorstripedwithsullenwatercourses，shaggedwithsedge，andyellowiris，andinthedrierpartwithbilberries。Forbythistimeitwasfouro’clock，andthesummersun，risingwanly，showedusalltheghastlyscene。
WouldthatIhadneverbeenthere!Ofteninthelonelyhours，evennowithauntsme：would，farmore，thatthepiteousthinghadneverbeendoneinEngland!Flyingmen，flungbackfromdreamsofvictoryandhonour，onlygladtohavetheluckoflifeandlimbstoflywith，mud-bedraggled，foulwithslime，reekingbothwithsweatandblood，whichtheycouldnotstoptowipe，cursing，withtheirpumped-outlungs，everystickthathinderedthem，orgorypuddlethatslippedthestep，scarcelyabletoleapoverthecorsesthathaddraggedtodie。Andtoseehowthecorseslay；some，asfairasdeathinsleep；withthesmileofplacidvalour，andofnoblemanhood，hoveringyetonthesilentlips。
Thesehadbloodlesshandsputupwards，whiteaswax，andfirmasdeath，claspedasonamonumentinprayerfordearonesleftbehind，orinhighthanksgiving。
Andofthesementherewasnothingintheirbroadblueeyestofear。Butotherswereofdifferentsort；
simplefellowsunusedtopain，accustomedtothebill-hook，perhaps，orraspoftheknucklesinaquick-sethedge，ormakingsometo-doatbreakfast，overathumbcutinsharpeningascythe，andexpectingtheirwivestomakemoreto-do。Yetherelaythesepoorchaps，dead；dead，afteradealofpain，withlittlemindtobearit，andasoultheyhadneverthoughtof；gone，theirGodaloneknowswhither；buttomercywemaytrust。UponthesethingsIcannotdwell；
andnoneItrowwouldaskme：onlyifaplainmansawwhatIsawthatmorning，heifGodhadblessedhimwiththeheartthatisinmostofusmusthavesickenedofalldesiretobegreatamongmankind。
SeeingmeridingtothefrontwheretheworkofdeathwentonamongthemenoftrueEnglishpluck；which，whenmoved，nofarthermoves，thefugitivescalledouttome，inhalfadozendialects，tomakenoutterfoolofmyself；forthegreatgunswerecome，andthefightwasover；alltherestwasslaughter。
’ArloopwiMoonmo’，’shoutedonebigfellow，amineroftheMendiphills，whoseweaponwasapickaxe：’naoosetovaightnamoor。Wendtheehame，yoongmonagin。’
UponthisIstoppedmyhorse，desiringnottobeshotfornothing；andeagertoaidsomepoorsickpeople，whotriedtolifttheirarmstome。AndthisIdidtothebestofmypower，thoughvoidofskillinthebusiness；andmoreinclinedtoweepwiththemthantochecktheirweeping。WhileIwasgivingadropofcordialfrommyflasktoonepoorfellow，whosatup，whilehislifewasebbing，andwithslowinsistenceurgedme，whenhisbrokenvoicewouldcome，totellhiswifewhosenameIknewnotsomethingaboutanapple-tree，andagoldenguineastoredinit，todivideamongsixchildren——inthemidstofthisIfeltwarmlipslaidagainstmycheekquitesoftly，andthenalittlepush；andbeholditwasahorseleaningoverme!
Iaroseinhaste，andtherestoodWinnie，lookingatmewithbeseechingeyes，enoughtomeltaheartofstone。
Thenseeingmyattentionfixedsheturnedherhead，andglancedbacksadlytowardtheplaceofbattle，andgavealittlewistfulneigh：andthenlookedmefullinthefaceagain，asmuchastosay，’Doyouunderstand？’
whileshescrapedwithonehoofimpatiently。Ifeverahorsetriedhardtospeak，itwasWinnieatthatmoment。Iwenttohersideandpattedher；butthatwasnotwhatshewanted。ThenIofferedtoleapintotheemptysaddle；butneitherdidthatseemgoodtoher：forsheranawaytowardthepartofthefieldatwhichshehadbeenglancingback，andthenturnedround，andshookhermane，entreatingmetofollowher。
UponthisIlearnedfromthedyingmanwheretofindhisapple-tree，andpromisedtoaddanotherguineatotheoneinstoreforhischildren；andso，commendinghimtoGod，Imountedmyownhorseagain，andtoWinnie’sgreatdelight，professedmyselfatherservice。Withherringingsilveryneigh，suchasnootherhorseofallIeverknewcouldequal，sheatonceproclaimedhertriumph，andtoldhermasterormeanttotell，ifdeathshouldnothaveclosedhisearsthatshewascomingtohisaid，andbringingonewhomightbetrusted，ofthehigherracethatkill。
Acannon-bulletfiredlow，andploughingthemarshslowlymetpoorWinniefronttofront；andshe，beingasquickasthought，loweredhernosetosniffatit。
Itmightbeamessagefromhermaster；foritmadeamournfulnoise。ButluckilyforWinnie’slife，ariseofwetgroundtooktheball，evenunderherverynose；
andthereitcutasplashygroove，missingheroffhindfootbyaninch，andscatteringblackmudoverher。
ItfrightenedmemuchmorethanWinnie；ofthatIamquitecertain：becausethoughIamfirmenough，whenitcomestoarealtussle，andtheheartofafellowwarmsupandtellshimthathemustgothroughwithit；yetI
neverdidapproveofmakingacoldpieofdeath。
Therefore，withthoserecklesscannons，brazen-mouthed，andbellowing，twofurlongsoff，oritmightbemoreandthemorethemerrier，Iwouldhavegiventhatyear’shay-cropforabitofahill，orathicketofoaks，oralmostevenabadger’searth。PeoplewillcallmeacowardforthisespeciallywhenIhadmadeupmymind，thatlifewasnotworthhavingwithoutanysignofLorna；nevertheless，Icannothelpit：thoseweremyfeelings；andIsetthemdown，becausetheymadeamarkonme。AtGlenDooneIhadfought，evenagainstcannon，withsomespiritandfury：butnowI
sawnothingtofightabout；butratherineverypoordoubledcorpse，agoodreasonfornotfighting。So，incoldbloodridingon，andyetashamedthatamanshouldshrinkwhereahorsewentbravely，IcastabitterblameupontherecklesswaysofWinnie。