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THREE:The next night, being the eve of the trial, Black Jack entered the Mitre, and, ordering a fresh gallon of stout ale, proceeded on to the little room where he had seen Calverley, and in which, around an oak table which nearly filled the area of the apartment, ten men were seated. A measure stood before them which they had just emptied, and were murmuring at their leader's close hand that restricted them to a single gallon.Another trial to him now was that Robert seemed half-hearted. Hitherto he had always worked conscientiously and well, even though he had never been smart or particularly keen; but now he seemed to loaf and slack��he dawdled, slipped clear of what he could, and once he actually asked Reuben for wages! This was unheard-of��not one of Reuben's sons had ever dreamed of such a thing before.

THREE:"Peace, wretch!" said De Boteler, choking with passion. "Here, let these plotters be confined separately till the morrow��and, Luke," he added, to the old steward, "let you and John Oakley go instantly to Holgrave, and see him removed from the keep, and put him into a warm bed��and take ye a flask of wine and pour some down his throat��and see that the leech attend him." He now turned to Isabella and strove to dispel from her mind the sad thoughts that the last half hour had called up, but it was not, as the baron imagined, the remembrance of her murdered child alone, which had sent a paleness to her cheek, and a tremor through her frame; it was rather the thought that through judging rashly she had been an accessory to the death of one who perhaps deserved reward rather than punishment."Wot's that��in themselves?"

THREE:Reuben received the blow in silence��it stunned him. He did not go over to Cheat Land��something, he scarcely knew what, kept him away. In the long yellow twilights he wandered on Boarzell. The rain-smelling March wind scudded over the grass, over the wet furrows of his cornfields, over the humming tops of the firs that, with the gorse splashed round their trunks, marked the crest of the Moor and of his ambition. Would they ever be his, those firs? Would he ever tear up that gorse and fling it on the bonfire, as he had torn up the gorse on the lower slopes and burned it with roars and cracklings and smoke that streamed over the Moor to Totease? Perhaps Realf would have the firs and the gorse, and pile that gorgeous bonfire. Tilly would put him up to her father's game��Reuben's imagination again failed to conceive the man who did not want Boarzell��she would betray Odiam's ambitions, and babble its most vital secrets. Tilly, Reuben told Boarzell, was a bitch."You thought you could not do better than wed her son through gratitude. That was well��and so this good squire of ours could not expect to find much favour in your eyes. But, do you not know, you should not have wedded without my consent?"

THREE:"Oh, and her liddle dentical ways!""In my box��you can cl?athe the naked wud 'em��I'm never going to put 'em on no more."