I lay the Marshmen ought to know. They've been
out after dark, father an' son, smugglin' some one thing or t'other, since
ever wool grew to sheep's backs. They say there was always a middlin' few
Pharisees to be seen on the Marsh. Impident as rabbits, they was. They'd
dance on the nakid roads in the nakid daytime; they'd flash their liddle
green lights along the diks, comin' an' goin', like honest smugglers. Yes,
an' times they'd lock the church doors against parson an' clerk of
Sundays!'
'That 'ud be smugglers layin' in the lace or the brandy till they could
run it out o' the Marsh. I've told my woman so,' said Hobden.
'I'll lay she didn't beleft it, then--not if she was a Whitgift. A
won'erful choice place for Pharisees, the Marsh, by all accounts, till
Queen Bess's father he come in with his Reformatories.'
'Would that be a Act o' Parliament like?' Hobden asked.
'Sure-ly! 'Can't do nothing in Old England without Act, Warrant, an'
Summons. He got his Act allowed him, an', they say, Queen Bess's father he
used the parish churches something shameful. Justabout tore the gizzards
out of I dunnamany. Some folk in England they held with 'en; but some they
saw it different, an' it eended in 'em takin' sides an' burnin' each other
no bounds, accordin' which side was top, time bein'. That tarrified the
Pharisees: for Goodwill among Flesh an' Blood is meat an' drink to 'em,
an' ill-will is poison.'
'Same as bees,' said the Bee Boy. 'Bees won't stay by a house where
there's hating.'
'True,' said Tom. 'This Reformations tarrified the Pharisees same as the
reaper goin' round a last stand o' wheat tarrifies rabbits. They packed
into the Marsh from all parts, and they says, "Fair or foul, we must flit
out o' this, for Merry England's done with, an' we're reckoned among the
Images."'
'Did they _all_ see it that way?' said Hobden.
'All but one that was called Robin--if you've heard of him. What are you
laughing at?' Tom turned to Dan. 'The Pharisees's trouble didn't tech
Robin, because he'd cleaved middlin' close to people like. No more he
never meant to go out of Old England--not he; so he was sent messagin' for
help among Flesh an' Blood. But Flesh an' Blood must always think of their
own concerns, an' Robin couldn't get _through_ at 'em, ye see. They
thought it was tide-echoes off the Marsh.'
'What did you--what did the fai--Pharisees want?' Una asked.
'A boat to be sure. Their liddle wings could no more cross
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