The priest was a stout built man, with a good humored countenance and merry twinkle of the eye, and Jack wondered what could have been the special wrong that induced him to take up a musket and lead his flock to the attack of a French convoy.
"Katherine!" he shouted as the wagon stopped in front of his house and a buxom serving woman appeared at the door, "dinner as quickly as possible, for we are starving; and let it be not only quick, but plentiful.

Lay a cover for this gentleman, who will dine with me; and prepare an ample supply of food in the kitchen for these two English soldiers, who have come across the sea to fight for the good cause.
"And now," he said to Jack, "while dinner is preparing I must distribute the spoil." The wagons were unloaded and their contents divided among the men who had take a part in the expedition, his flock insisting upon the padre taking a bountiful share.
The mules and bullocks in the wagons were similarly divided, in this case one being given to each family; for there were but thirty animals, while the fighting contingent from the village had numbered nearly eighty men.

There were five or six animals over when the division had been made, and these were given, in addition to their proper share, to the families of three men who had been killed in the fight.
"Now, my sons," the padre said when all was done, "take your axes and fall upon the wagons.

A wagon is a thing to swear by.

Every man knows his own goods; and should the French ever visit our village again these wagons might cost us dear.