Several minutes intervened, however, before the door was opened. A short, stout man, about the middle age, then made his appearance, and, discerning Bernard, hastily stepped out to the road. “Give thee good morrow, fair master!” he cried. “What hath gone wrong?” “Never thou heed what, Master Headborough!” replied Bernard; “but don thy cap, and mount thee up behind me.” “But the law, Master Gray--the law of the matter?” inquired the constable. “Look you, an’ it be a simple matter of robbery, thou must needs have a warrant, as I take it, ere thou mayst take the thief.” “Wilt thou come?” demanded Bernard. “Prithee, be advised as to the law,” urged the constable. “We have adjudged in the instance of robbery. Now, look you, if it be a matter of battery by assault”-- “’Tis neither robbery nor assault,” cried Bernard. “’Tis an offence against the state; and if thou don not thy cap incontinently, I must even take thee without it.” “Go to!” remonstrated the constable. “An’ it were but robbery and battery, the law, as thou sayest, were easy enough; but”-- He was still speaking, when, overcome with impatience, Bernard caught him up in his arms, and threw him, perforce, across the shoulders of his horse. “Go to, thou!” he cried. “Settle thee afore the saddle, or, while thou pratest here, the offender will escape. Thou hadst better be hanged than that should be!” The tone of his voice, and the dread which, in common with all his neighbours, he entertained of Bernard’s character, reduced the loquacious constable to immediate obedience, and, without further parley, he disposed himself in the manner directed. Bernard sprang up behind him, and then, seizing the bridle, clapped spurs to his horse, and set forward for Neville Grange. By the carriage-road, which was circuitous, the distance was considerable, and occupied him nearly an hour. Ultimately, however, he got over it, and, spurring through the gateway, and up the adjoining avenue, reined up before the hall-door. The tramp of the horse’s feet, which the hard, dry road carried some distance, quickly brought out several of the servants, and, among them, old Adam Green. That person, to the surprise of the others, recognised Bernard as an acquaintance, and hastened to salute him. “Are they wedded yet, Master Adam?” asked Bernard, on his approach. “’Tis now in course,” answered Adam. Bernard alighted at a bound. “Down with thee, thou loon!” he cried to the astonished constable, seizing him by the arm:--“down, I say!” There was no use in resisting, and the constable, maugre the dignity and state of his office, was obliged to give way, and descend to the ground. “Now, Master Adam, lead us to them!” said Bernard. “For her sake, I will!” answered Adam. “Follow!” He turned towards the hall-door; and Bernard, and the constable, grasped by Bernard’s hand, followed in his wake. Entering the hall, he passed up the contiguous stairs, and led the way to the chapel.