Free The Distracted Preacher by Thomas Hardy Page A

increasing twilight; and as they stood they looked at the confiscated property with a melancholy expression that told only too plainly the relation which they bore to the trade.
    â€œWell, Lizzy,” said Stockdale, when the crackle of the wheels had nearly died away. “this is a fit finish to your adventure. I am truly thankful that you have got off without suspicion, and the loss only of the liquor. Will you sit down and let me talk to you?”
    â€œBy-and-by,” she said. “But I must go out now.”
    â€œNot to that horrid shore again?” he said, blankly.
    â€œNo, not there. I am only going to see the end of this day’s business.”
    He did not answer to this, and she moved towards the door slowly, as if waiting for him to say something more.
    â€œYou don’t offer to come with me,” she added at last. “I suppose that’s because you hate me after all this?”
    â€œCan you say it, Lizzy, when you know I only want to save you from such practices? Come with you? Of course I will, if it is only to take care of you. But why will you go out again?”
    â€œBecause I cannot rest in-doors. Something is happening, and I must know what. Now, come!” And they went into the dusk together.
    When they reached the turnpike-road she turned to the right, and he soon perceived that they were following the direction of the excisemen and their loads. He had given her his arm, and every now and then she suddenly pulled it back, to signify that he was to halt a moment and listen. They had walked rather quickly along the first quarter of a mile, and on the second or third time of standing still she said, “I hear them ahead—don’t you?”
    â€œYes,” he said; “I hear the wheels. But what of that?”
    â€œI only want to know if they get clear away from the neighborhood.”
    â€œAh,” said he, a light breaking upon him. “Something desperate is to be attempted—and now I remember, there was not a man about the village when we left.”
    â€œHark!” she murmured. The noise of the cart-wheels had stopped, and given place to another sort of sound.
    â€œâ€™Tis a scuffle!” said Stockdale. “There’ll be murder! Lizzy, let go my arm; I am going on. On my conscience, I must not stay here and do nothing!”
    â€œThere’ll be no murder, and not even a broken head,” she said. “Our men are thirty to four of them: no harm will be done at all.”
    â€œThen there is an attack!” exclaimed Stockdale; “and you knew it was to be. Why should you side with men who break the laws like this?”
    â€œWhy should you side with men who take from country traders what they have honestly bought wi’ their own money in France?” said she, firmly.
    â€œThey are not honestly bought,” said he.
    â€œThey are,” she contradicted. “I and Owlett and the others paid thirty shillings for every one of the tubs before they were put on board at Cherbourg, and if a king who is nothing to us sends his people to steal our property, we have a right to steal it back again.”
    Stockdale did not stop to argue the matter, but went quickly in the direction of the noise, Lizzy keeping at his side. “Don’t you interfere, will you, dear Richard?” she said, anxiously, as they drew near. “Don’t let us go any closer; ’tis at Warm’ell Cross where they are seizing ’em. You can do no good, and you may meet with a hard blow!”
    â€œLet us see first what is going on,” he said. But before they had got much farther the noise of the cart-wheels began again, and Stockdale soon found that they were coming towards him. In another minute the three carts came up, and Stockdale and Lizzy stood in the ditch to let them pass.
    Instead of being conducted by four men, as had happened when they went out of the village, the horses and carts were now accompanied by a