eorge, and these being our
natural enemies, whom we ought to hate."

_Ciss_! went the ham, and Rodd felt as if he should like to shout "Hear,
hear!"

"But I can't help remembering what I hear at church about forgiving our
enemies; and I am sure you would, sir, if you knew what I do about those
poor fellows, torn away from their own people and shut up behind prison
bars, and all for doing nothing."

Just then there was a little spluttering noise as if the pan were
chuckling.

"For doing nothing!" shouted Uncle Paul, and a sound from his room
suggested that he had set down the washhand jug with a bang. "The
scoundrels who invaded our shores?"

_Ciss_! said the pan.

"That they didn't, sir!" cried the landlady. "They didn't even try; and
even if they had there were all our brave fellows round the coasts who
would soon have stopped them."

"Hear, hear!" cried Rodd, very softly, for he was speaking into his
sweet-scented towel, whose scent was that of fresh air and wild thyme.

"Well, well, that's right," shouted Uncle Paul; "but they wanted to."

_Whish-ish_, went the pan, and there was a good deal more spluttering,
and in his mind's eye Rodd saw the great rasher turned right over, to
begin sizzling again.

"And I don't believe that, Dr Robson," cried the landlady sturdily.
"Don't you know that the poor fellows over yonder never get good honest
shillings given to them and are enlisted of their own free will like our
lads at home, but they are dragged away and are obliged to fight; and it
was all owing to the angry jealousy and covetousness of that dreadful
man, Bony, who has been the cause of all the trouble."

"Hah!" roared Uncle Paul, in a voice that almost shook the diamond-paned
casement. "Say no more, Mrs Champernowne. You are quite right, and I
admire your sympathies. Madam, you are a lady!"

"Oh, really, Dr Robson--"

"I repeat it, madam, you are a lady, and I applaud everything you have
said. But what about that gun?"

"Oh, dear me, yes, sir; I was just going to tell you, but you put it all
out of my head. It was the alarm gun to tell everybody that prisoners
had escaped, so that all the people on the moor could join the soldiers
in scouring the place as they called it, and hunting the poor Frenchmen
down for the sake of the reward. Yes, I'd reward them if I had my way!
Hunting their poor fellow-creatures, who are only trying for their
liberty!"

"H'm! Ha!" grunted Uncle Paul, and there