'And you think it likely that such an one would put himself at the head of a lawless rabble, to wreck farms and extort money from his fellow-landowners?' 'He demanded twenty pounds of me.' 'Well, go on with your story. You refused the money?' 'I did so at first, but in the end I was forced to pay it.' 'Forced? Did the prisoner employ violence?' 'No; the rabble outside threatened to burn all down unless I paid. I put the money into the prisoner's hand.' 'After that he left your house?' 'He took ten pounds also from Zita.' 'No; I offered them to him to save my van!' exclaimed the girl. 'Another word of interruption, and you are turned out of court,' said the chairman. 'Constable, stand by her, and if she opens her mouth again, clap your hand over it, or stuff your pocket-handkerchief down her throat.' 'I will do so, your worship.' 'That is all you have to say, witness?' 'Yes. I have nothing more, except that Runham gave cake and ale to the rioters.' 'You saw him do so?' 'No. I heard he had regaled them.' 'That is no evidence.' Then the chairman turned to Mark Runham and said, 'Has the accused any questions he would like to put to witness?' 'Yes,' said Mark. 'I inquire of him whether I did not protest that I came merely as a neighbour and a friend.' 'A friend?' exclaimed Drownlands. 'No Runham can be a friend to me, nor I a friend to him.' 'That is no answer to his question,' said the chairman. 'He said something of the sort,' Drownlands admitted. 'Did I not say,' pursued Mark, 'that Gaultrip had refused at the outset to pay blackmail, and that in the end, when his rick was blazing, he gave way, and that I had run on ahead to advise you as a neighbour not to provoke to outrage an irritated and unreasonable rabble?' 'Yes, you said that; but how was I to know you were not acting for the rioters? You gave them cake.' 'Come,' said the magistrate occupying the chair, 'we will hear now what that lively young woman has to say. She clearly is bursting with desire to tell us all she knows. Put her in the witness-box.' As Drownlands left the place he had occupied, Zita stepped into his room at the instigation of the constable. She looked up at the Bench with a cheery countenance, and then round at the public that crammed every available space. 'Your name?' 'Zita.' 'Yes, that is well enough as far as it goes, but we want your surname also.' 'Father said we were Greenways. But nobody never called him nothing but "Cheap Jack."' 'And your profession or calling? A companion?' The court tittered. A clown in the public portion of the hall guffawed. Zita raised herself erect and said, 'A Cheap Jack.' 'A Cheap Jill, I should say,' observed the red-faced chairman, laughing at his own feeble joke, whereupon the Bench smiled, the clerk of the court and the constables laughed, and the public roared. The magistrate went on, 'If you are a Cheap Jack or Jill, how come you to be at Mr. Drownlands' house? Is your father with you?'