"It's Cap'en Darcy, that's who it is. We never meant no 'arm, Cap'en.
That we didn't. The apples was rotting on the ground, s'h'lp me if they
wasn't. Grannie Staples was took to the Union last Wednesday fortnight,
and anyone's got the run of her garden since. Don't you let the new
parson get us put away, Cap'en. We belongs to the Island--I'm William
Jennifer's Tommy, please Cap'en, and 'e's Bobby Sclanders 'e is."
And being cunning, alike by nature and stress of circumstance, they
pathetically drooped, blubbering in chorus:
"We never didn't mean no 'arm, Cap'en. Strike me dead if we did."
At which last implied profanity Reginald Sawyer shuddered, loosening
his grasp.
Of what followed he could subsequently give no definite account. The
dignities of his sacred profession and his self-respect alike reeled
ignominiously into chaos. He believed he heard the person, addressed as
Captain Darcy, say quietly:
"Cut it, youngsters. Now's your chance."
He felt that both the children violently struggled, and that the round
hard head of one of them butted him in the stomach.
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