amme, Mrs. Agatha mam, asking your pardon, I'm sure--but don't ye
see--he's been at 'em again! The three best clusters on the
tree--gone, mam, gone! Stole, Mrs. Agatha mam, 'twixt now and twelve
o'clock noon----"

"O Gemini, the wretch!"

"I'll take my oath them cherries was a-blowing not an hour agone, mam,
on that branch atop the wall!"

"Who could ha' done it?"

"Not knowing, mam, can't say, but this last week the rogue has captured
fourteen squads of our best cherries--off this one tree, and this, as
you know, Mrs. Agatha mam, be the Major's favourite tree! So I say,
mam, whoever the villain be, I say--damn him, Mrs. Agatha mam!"

"Fie--fie, Sergeant, swearing will not mend matters."

"Maybe not, mam, maybe not, but same does me a power o' good! Egad,
when I mind how I've watched and tended them particular cherries Mrs.
Agatha I could----"

"Then don't, Sergeant!"

"What beats me," said he, rubbing his square chin with the shaft of the
hammer, "what beats me is--how did he do it? Must be uncommonly long
in the arms and legs to reach so high unless he used a pole----"

"Or a ladder?" suggested Mrs. Agatha.

"Meaning he did it by escalade, mam? Hum--no, I see no signs of
scaling ladders mam and the ground is soft, d'ye see? But a pole
now----"

"Or a ladder--on the other side of the wall, Sergeant----"

"B'gad, mam!" he exclaimed. "I believe you're right--though to be sure
the house next door is empty."

"Was!" corrected Mrs. Agatha. "Lud, Sergeant, there's a great lady
from London been living there a month and more with a houseful of
lackeys and servants."

"Ha, a month, mam? Lackeys and servants say you? B'gad, say I, that's
them! Must report this to the Major. Must report at once!" and the
Sergeant laid down his hammer.

"And where is the Major?"

"Mam," said the Sergeant, consulting a large, brass chronometer, "the
hour is pre-cisely three-fourteen, consequently he is now a-sitting in
his Ramillie coat a-writing of his History of Fortification--in ten
vollums."

"'Twill be pity to wake him!" sighed Mrs. Agatha.

"Wake him?" repeated the Sergeant, staring; whereupon Mrs. Agatha
laughed and went her way while he continued to stare after her until
her trim figure and snowy mob-cap had vanished behind the yew-hedge.

Then the Sergeant sighed, reached for his coat, put it on, adjusted his
tall, leathern stock, sighed again and turning sharp about, marched
into the house.