"Nay! you say you have a posse of soldiers quartered here! Gadzooks! if I had the chance with these and a few lusty fellows from the village, I’d soon give an account of any highwayman on this Heath!" "Dear! dear!" repeated Squire West, sorely puzzled, "a very regrettable incident indeed." "Can I so far trespass on your Honour’s time," queried Bathurst, with a slight show of impatience, "as to ask you at least to take note of her ladyship’s plaint?" "Certainly ... sir, certainly ... hem! ... er.... Of course we must after the rogue ... the beadle shall cry him out on the green at once, and..." It was easy to see that the worthy Squire would far sooner have left the well-known hero of Brassing Moor severely alone; still, in his official capacity he was bound to take note of her ladyship’s plaint, and to act as justice demanded. "’Tis a pity, sir," he said, whilst he sat fidgeting among his papers, "that you, or perhaps her ladyship, did not see the rogue’s face. I suppose he was masked as usual?" "Faix! he’d have frightened the sheep on the Heath, maybe, if he was not. But her ladyship and I noted his hair and stature, and also the cut and colour of his clothes." "What was he like?" "Tall and stout of build, with dark hair turning to grey." "Nay!" ejaculated Squire West, in obvious relief, "then it was not Beau Brocade, who is young and slim, so I’m told, though I’ve never seen him. You saw him plainly, sir, did you say?" "Aye! quite plainly, your Honour! And what’s more," added Jack, emphatically, "her ladyship and I both caught sight of him in Brassington this very morning." "In Brassington?" "Outside the Royal George," asserted Bathurst, imperturbably. "Nay, sir!" cried Squire West, who seemed to have quite lost his air of indecision, now that he no longer feared to come in direct conflict with Beau Brocade, "why did you not say this before? Here, Inch! Inch!" he added, going to the door and shouting lustily across the passage, "where is that cursed beadle? In Brassington, did you say, sir?" "I’d almost swear to it, your Honour." "Nay! then with a bit of good luck, we may at least lay _this_ rascal by the heels. I would I could rid this neighbourhood of these rogues. Here, Inch," he continued, as soon as that worthy appeared in the doorway, "do you listen to what this gentleman has got to say. There’s a d——d rascal in this village and you’ll have to cry out his description at once, and then collar him as soon as may be." Master Inch placed himself in a posture that was alike dignified and expectant. His Honour, Squire West, too, was listening eagerly, whilst Jack Bathurst with perfect _sang-froid_ gave forth the description of the supposed highwayman. "He wore a brown coat," he said calmly, "embroidered waistcoat, buff breeches, riding-boots and three-cornered hat. He is tall and stout of build, has dark hair slightly turning to grey, and was last seen carrying a gold-headed riding-crop."