"My name is Robert Reed, at your service, madam, clerk to Justice Tomkins," he replied. He had regained some confidence on observing the shabby clothes of the young lady, and the poverty-stricken air of the house. "Mr. Reed," she said, making a curtesy, "you are but late come to these parts, so I should ask your pardon for being so warm. 'Tis no fault of yours that Justice Tomkins is wanting in that courtesy due to a lady." Mr. Reed bowed in some embarrassment. "But, madam, 'tis the duty of every magistrate to be on his guard against the pestilent knaves who are roaming through the land, plotting and contriving against the present happy settlement." "Oh, doubtless, sir," interrupted Audrey; "and Justice Tomkins has my best thanks. Our hen-roosts have been twice robbed; and a party of gipsies passed last Tuesday se'night who took every rag from our clothes-line, even to my dairy-woman's great aprons!" "Very sad, very reprehensible; it must be looked to," replied the clerk, pompously, falling at once into Audrey's trap, and laying down the hat he had been twirling impatiently. "I am so glad to have the opportunity of telling you of it, sir," continued Audrey, artfully. What lawyer's clerk could suspect this affable young lady of double dealing? Yet her mind was only half given to diplomatizing with Mr. Reed; her ears were strained to follow the heavy footsteps of the constables as they creaked up the stairs and tramped from room to room. Would they suspect that the chamber above had been occupied? Had Captain Harrison remembered to close the door leading to his garret? Would they think of rummaging there? She lost the thread of her harangue, hesitated--Mr. Reed opened his mouth to speak, and she hurried to add, "for, indeed, it seemed as though the justices were taking little heed of the honesty of these hamlets." "It shall be looked to--it shall be looked to! But pilfering is one thing, madam, and conspiracy and rebellion, and raising troops against the present most happy government of his sacred Majesty, is another!" "Oh la, sir! Who can have told you that I had a rebellion and troops in my house? 'Tisn't likely now, is it?" "No, madam," he answered, with another pompous bow; "doubtless you disturb the peace of the king's liege subjects after another fashion." "Insolent little jackanapes!" thought Audrey. "I trust my new brother is not within hearing!" "But," continued Reed, "'tis sure that this dangerous ruffian Harrison is lurking in these parts, and 'tis fitting a lady dwelling alone should be warned against such a character." "But who has been so insolent as to say a person of bad character could be seen about my house? (Pray Heaven the person is well hidden among those old flock beds)," she mentally interpolated. "A--a soldier who was passing on his way to London laid a complaint of a strong rogue who assaulted and beat him, who answers to the description we have received of this fellow Harrison."