He rode along at a swinging pace till he reached Two Bridges, where there is an ascent rather steep for a quarter of a mile, and then he necessarily slackened his pace. To his great annoyance, as he passed the Saracen's Head (the inn which constitutes the settlement of Two Bridges) a man emerged from the public-house and jumped on his horse. This was a moorman. The morrow was appointed for a drift, and he was going to make preparations to drive his quarter of the moor. He leaped on his horse and trotted after the convict, little knowing who he was. That night was one of moonlight. The moorman saw a gentleman in black riding a good horse before him, and he pushed on to be abreast with him and have a little talk. "Whom have I the honour of riding with at night?" asked the moorman. "I'm the new curate," said the convict, "going round on my pastoral duties." "Oh, indeed, without saddle and bridle?" "I was called up to a dying person. My groom was away. For souls one must do much." "Indeed, and your clothes don't seem to fit you," observed the moorman. Now the doctor was a fat man, and the man who wore his clothes was lean. "My duties are wearing to the carnal man," said the rider. "And the horse. By ginger! it's the doctor's," exclaimed the moorman. The convict kicked the flanks of his steed, and away he bounded. The hill had been surmounted. The moorman gave chase. Then he recollected that the doctor's horse was an old charger, and he thundered out, "Halt! Right about face!" Instantly the old charger stopped--instantly--stopped dead, and away over his head like a rocket shot the _soi-disant_ curate. In another moment the moorman was on him, had him fast, and said grimly, "You're a five-pounder to me, my reverend party." Five pounds is the reward for the apprehension of an escaped convict. The moorman got his five pounds, and the convict got something he didn't like. He forfeited all the years of his imprisonment past, and got seven in addition for the theft of the horse and clothes. Some years ago a convict escaped and concealed himself in a mine. Impelled by hunger, he showed himself to the men there engaged. He told them that he was, like them, a toiler underground. They agreed to shelter him, and he was kept concealed in the mine till the search for him was past. Then they gave him old clothes, and each subscribed a sum of money to help him to leave the country. He got away, and some year or two after he sent back all the money he had been given, to be repaid to the men who had subscribed to get him off, and a good present into the bargain. A very different case was this. A man got out, escaped from the moor, and made his way to his wife's cottage. She gave him up and claimed the five pounds reward for her treachery.