“I mustn’t say it’s more than I should have expected, for I know so few of your calling,” he replied. “And I don’t know what Cicely said neither. But I myself can say this, that with hands and heart a little less clean I could have been safe away in Liverpool by this. Yes, since last Thursday, too. Don’t think I’m careless or swaggering; I know just what danger I’m in, and from both sides; let me tell you.” Briefly and honestly he told the parson of the lot-drawing in the loom-loft and of his own share therein. “And that’s the whole of it,” he concluded, “except that if I hadn’t stayed behind to tidy Moon’s garret up a bit he’d have been worse off than I.” The parson, with a very grave face, drew a chair up opposite Monjoy, and they continued to talk low and earnestly. * * * * * At a little after eleven that morning there appeared in Wadsworth an object the like of which had never before entered the hamlet. It was a single-horse, yellow chaise, with an extra horse for tracing, and it was followed up the steep street by an officer leading his horse and a company of redcoats. In the chaise Cope sat nursing one foot. There was no smile on his face now. He had (so it was afterwards said) stumped raging about his room throughout the night, cursing, gnawing his nails, and spitting like a cat when any approached him. It seemed he had calculated confidently on the stackyard. He now sat in the yellow chaise like some ugly nodding idol, biting the edge of his forefinger unceasingly, and nesting his foot. The procession reached the square. The redcoats did not pile arms; they formed up four deep in front of the “Gooise,” and detachments were told off by Captain Ritchie to begin the searching immediately. Another party was sent off to reconnoitre the mountainous Scout; and the yellow chaise, with the supervisor in it, remained drawn up before the inn door. When Jeremy Cope took command in person matters were to be expedited. At a little after one o’clock Pim o’ Cuddy, who for the last two hours had hidden and rehidden and hidden again his brass kettle down the spout of which sixpences would go (the verger seemed now to think the very possession of money a crime), was taken in the guilty act of putting back the kettle into its original hiding-place. He was haled before Cope, and there he fell and grovelled on the ground before the redoubtable dwarf. “What’s this?” Cope snapped, tearing at his finger with his teeth. The soldier displayed the kettle. “Well, and what o’ that?” yelped Cope. “Curse your clumsy limbs, find the red man! His jade of a wife was here yesterday--it’s odds she’s not playing the same trick twice--skip, ye hamfaced fool! Set your heel on that worm first--skip!”