Annoyed at Massy’s pertinacious refusal to accede to his wishes, Gaultier de la Salle formed the horrible design of taking away his life, but how was this to be done without causing suspicion? Open violence, even in those days, was not to be thought of. Secret assassination might be discovered. At last the acute mind of the unworthy Bailiff hit on an expedient which appeared to him perfectly safe. It was to make the forms of the law subservient to his wicked designs, and, under the guise of a judicial proceeding, to cause the ruin and death of the unfortunate Massy. Theft was then, and for too many centuries after, punished with death. If he could succeed in fixing an accusation of this kind on the innocent Massy, he flattered himself that there would be no difficulty in obtaining a conviction, and then would follow the utmost penalty of the law, and the consequent forfeiture of the felon’s lands and goods to the King, from whom he hoped to get a grant or sale of the field. To carry out his nefarious intention, he hid two of his own silver cups in a cornstack, and adroitly contrived to cause a suspicion of having stolen them to rest on his too-obstinate neighbour. Circumstantial evidence, skilfully combined, was not wanting on the day of trial, and, notwithstanding his vehement protestations of innocence, poor Massy was found guilty and condemned to death. The day fixed for the execution arrived, and the Bailiff proceeded to the Court House with the intention of witnessing the death of the unfortunate victim of his own false accusation. But “the wicked man diggeth a pit and falleth into the midst of it himself.” Before leaving home, he gave orders to some of his workmen to take down a certain stack of corn, and house it in the barn. He had barely taken his seat in Court, where the magistrates had assembled for the purpose, as was then the custom, of attending the culprit to the place of execution, and seeing their sentence duly carried out, when a messenger, almost breathless, rushed in and exclaimed-- “The cups are found.” [Illustration: “Houses in Church Square, 1825.”] “Fool!” cried the Bailiff. “Did I not tell thee not to touch _that_ rick. I knew----.” Here he stopped short in confusion, perceiving that he had already said enough to raise the suspicions of those who had heard him.