Norton looked concerned; he had in truth more than once spared the inhabitants of Bosbury because he wished to keep his footing at the Vicarage. “What hath chanced, sir?” he inquired. “I walked to an outlying house in my parish,” said the Vicar; “Old Mutlow’s farm at Swinmore, Hilary, you know the place. To my horror, when I got there it was in flames, the poor old man half frantic, but far too infirm to attempt to save his goods, and your men, sir, protesting that they had the right to burn his home because he had not paid his contribution.” “Well, sir,” said Norton, “I confess your tale relieves me. I feared that in my absence the men might have waxed as cruel as General Gerrard’s men t’other day in Montgomeryshire, who not only burnt the farm, but the mother and the children inside it. I am glad this old peasant fared better. As you will understand, we must punish those who refuse their aid, and we are bound to get money somehow.” “And how much will your devilish house-burnings put into the King’s coffers? How far will they help him to victory?” said the Vicar, in such wrath as Hilary had not imagined him capable of. “I tell you, sir, this cruel and damnable practice will bring down the curse of the Almighty on His Majesty’s cause. Leave us for a moment, my child, I have a word or two to say to Colonel Norton in private.” Hilary, with a smile of farewell to Norton, curtseyed and left the room, and a very grave talk between the two men followed. To judge by the expression of the Colonel’s face as he rode back to Canon Frome, he had not found it altogether to his mind. “That old antiquary is a shrewder man of the world than I took him for,” he reflected, as he dug his spurs savagely into his horse and galloped over a stretch of unenclosed ground. “I must devise some means for getting him out of the way, or he will be seeing through my little game and suspecting that I am no better than the men he was abusing. He is too plain-spoken by half--actually protested that I was permitting the garrison to become a nursery of lawless vice! Well, I’ll avoid Bosbury for a week or two, and then pacify him with some rare old bone. How could I guess that the farm at Swinmore, miles away, was in his parish? He must be mollified with old remains for the present, and when a fitting opportunity arrives, by hook or by crook, I’ll have him snugly tucked up in Hereford Gaol. Prince Maurice is soon to be Major-General of the county, and I can do what I please with him. Then, when once the parson is safely clapped up, pretty Hilary will naturally enough be in my power.” He laughed aloud at the prospect of the Vicar’s discomfiture, and by the time he had reached Canon Frome Manor was once more in excellent spirits. CHAPTER XXXIII. “He seemed For dignity composed, and high exploit, But all was false and hollow; though his tongue Dropt manna, and could make the worse appear