temper, Sir Antony could never resist a joke at his expense.
"Zounds, sir!" he retorted, "if I were presenting you to Sir Antony I should most certainly style him the worst business man upon the Marsh."
"How do you make that out?" cried the squire.
"My dear sir," went on Sennacherib to the captain, "his tenants rob him at every turn. Everybody but himself knows that half the wool from his farms finds its way over to Calais."
"My dear Captain," said Doctor Syn, who was warming himself at the fireplace, "our good friend Pepper is repeatedly coming into contact with the old gentleman himself upon the Marsh. Why, only last year he informed us that he met at least a score of his bodyguard riding in perfect style and most approved manner across from Ivychurch on fire-snorting steeds. And how many witches is it now that you have seen? A good round dozen, I'll be sworn; and they were riding straddle-legs, a thing that we could hardly credit."
"Well, let us hope," said the physician, "that the presence of the King's men will frighten the devils away. I've seen 'em, and I've no wish to see 'em again."
"You can set your mind quite at rest, sir," returned the captain, "for if as you say their horses breathe fire, they will afford excellent targets on the flat Marsh. We'll hail the King's ship and see what ninety good guns can do for the devils."
