You must either accompany me back to my
farm, or let me take your horses there, so as to prevent your leaving
here during the night."
"All right, uncle, take the horses, but don't forget to feed them well.
But perhaps it would spare you trouble if you read our papers."
"It is easy to forge papers," said the old man. His companion now boiled
over and broke in--
"No, no! We've got you right enough! What else can you be but cursed
spies, riding about the country like this?"
"I don't wish to argue with you," I replied, angered by his brutal
manner. "I'm as true a burgher as you are, to say the least, and I warn
you that I shall hold you responsible for what you do or say."
"Oh! oh! Responsible? We are our own Government now. And where are your
arms? Spies!"
"I see you have a gun, but perhaps that is only because you've had no
chance to lay it down."
"What! Yes, I've got a gun, and I'll prove it to you!" he shouted,
pointing the weapon at me.
"Just like a cowardly bully to threaten an unarmed man! But," I added
gently, "you'll feel differently to-morrow."
"Will I? Why?" he asked, curiosity getting the better of his rage.
"You'll be sober then." This only incensed him the more, but he saw that
he had gone too far, and contented himself with uttering a few
half-intelligible threats. We then went out to the stable, gave them our
horses, and went to bed.
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