"But George took it all in in a jiffy, an' he maks a spring at Ben, an' they say he'd ha' run his shears into him if he'd got at him. But th' chap wi' th' warrant rushes for'ard an' th' soldiers run in at a word fra Mr. Radcliffe. 'Judas,' hissed George, and fixed his eyes on Ben an' nivver took them off him while they put th' darbies on him an' Thorpe 'at wer' taken at th' same time. 'Judas, yo' cursed Judas!' and Walker cowered behind th' stout owd magistrate like th' cur at he is. But, quick, look to Faith." Mary and my mother sprang to Faith's side, and Mary caught her in her arms as she was falling unconscious to the ground. The poor lass had swooned away. Jack supported her to the parlour, and laid her on the horsehair sofa and my mother and Mary busied themselves in bringing her round. "Drat me for a tactless fool," said Jack, when he returned to the kitchen. "Aw cannot ha' th' wit aw wer' born wi' to be ramblin' on like that an' her there. Well, well, it's a pity her heart's so set yonder, for awm feart her thowt's 'll be where her eyes 'll nivver rest again." And for a long time Jack could not be moved to continue his story. It was only when Mary returned to say that Faith was quite recovered, and that the mother would stay with her in the parlour that he went on: "George wer' game to th' last, an' Thorpe, they say, wer' just as unconcerned as if he wer' used to bein' charged wi' murder every day o' his life. When they thrust 'em into th' coach they had i' waitin', George raised his hand as well as he could for th' irons, an' called out, 'Three cheers for General Lud.' But th' crowd wer' fleyed to death. A lad or two in th' throng cried out i' answer, an' a woman waved her shawl, but everyone feart to be seen takin' his part, an' folk 'at had known him fra a lad held back fra him same as if he'd getten th' small-pox." "Oh! the cowards, the heartless, ungrateful wretches!" cried Mary with flashing eyes. "I wish I'd been there. I'd have, stood by him if his own mother had disowned him!" And I have no doubt Mary would have been as good as her words. "Well and then?" said my father to prod on Soldier, who seemed to have only half his heart in the story, for he kept his eyes fixed on the door of the parlour, and seemed to be listening with all his ears for what might be passing within. "Well, they hustled him off wi' a clatter, th' soldiers mounted their horses, three o' each side o' th' coach, an' off i' a gallop to Leeds on their way to York. Ther' wer' more dragoons waiting for them by th' Brigg for they feared a rescue, but, Lord bless yo', when they'd getten George they'd gotten all th' heart an' all th' pluck to be fun' wi' in a mile o' th' Brigg. A rescue say yo'? A swarm o' rats not worth feightin' for. That's my judgment on 'em all." "But you saw Mrs. Walker yo' said?" queried my father. "Had yo' no speech wi' Ben?"