“Yer lie, I didn’t!” replies Deputy, in his one form of polite contradiction.
“He has been prowling near us ever since!”
“Yer lie, I haven’t,” returns Deputy. “I’d only jist come out for my ’elth when I see you two a-coming out of the Kinfreederel. If
I—ket—ches—Im—out—ar—ter—ten!”
(with the usual rhythm and dance, though dodging behind Durdles), “it ain’t any fault, is it?”
“Take him home, then,” retorts Jasper, ferociously, though with a strong check upon himself, “and let my eyes be rid of the sight of you!”
Deputy, with another sharp whistle, at once expressing his relief, and his commencement of a milder stoning of Mr. Durdles, begins stoning that respectable gentleman home, as if he were a reluctant ox. Mr. Jasper goes to his gatehouse, brooding. And thus, as everything comes to an end, the unaccountable expedition comes to an end—for the time.