It's a long road to Scotland, and there is little danger that this adventurer will find his way into Devonshire before the nuts are placed before us." "It would be nuts to us, if he did, Sir Gervaise," put in Tom Wycherly, laughing heartily at his own wit.

"My uncle would enjoy nothing more than to see the spurious sovereign on his own estate, here, and in the hands of his own tenants.

I think, sir, that Wychecombe and one or two of the adjoining manors, would dispose of him." "That might depend on circumstances," the admiral answered, a little drily.

"These Scots have such a thing as a claymore, and are desperate fellows, they tell me, at a charge.

The very fact of arming a soldier with a short sword, shows a most bloody-minded disposition." "You forget, Sir Gervaise, that we have our Cornish hug, here in the west of England; and I will put our fellows against any Scotch regiment that ever charged an enemy." Tom laughed again at his own allusion to a proverbial mode of grappling, familiar to the adjoining county.
"This is all very well, Mr.Thomas Wychecombe, so long as Devonshire is in the west of England, and Scotland lies north of the Tweed.