"I shouldn't have thought you'd have believed in the like of that--but I do--that old devil's dam, dame Parker, that lives alone up in Hatherleigh Wood, got gibbering some infernal nonsense at me the other day, for shooting her black cat.

I made the cross in the road though, so I suppose it won't come to anything." "Perhaps not," said Lee; "but I'd sooner kill a man than a black cat." Another pause.

The tobacco, so much stronger than any George had been accustomed to, combined with the cold, made him feel nervous and miserable.
"When I was a boy," resumed Lee, "there were two young brothers made it up to rob the 'squire's house, down at Gidleigh.

They separated in the garden after they cracked the crib, agreeing to meet here in this very place, and share the swag, for they had got nigh seventy pound.

They met and quarrelled over the sharing up; and the elder one drew out a pistol, and shot the younger dead.