"We have fallen among the Philistines, Jack, and it's not likely they will let us go till they have fleeced us completely." "Cheer up, Master Brinsmead!" said Jack. "I will speak to them, and see what can be done." On this Jack called a parley with their opponents, who seemed prepared for the proposal; but not without much grief and many doubts did Will Brinsmead listen to the terms. Seeing, however, that his chance of escape was hopeless, he at length consented to pay the levier of black-mail his iniquitous dues. On this Jack rode back to the top of the rise where he had left the horseman, and told him that the arrangement was agreed to. "Well, then, send your people to look after the beasts, and I will come down and settle with worthy Master Brinsmead. You will not find it silver thrown away, let me tell you; for we shall take care that not a crown more will you have to pay till you get safe back to your master with the profits of your journey." With many a groan and sigh Brinsmead produced his leathern purse from a side-pocket carefully secured round him, and counted out the pieces into the broad palm of the cattle-lifter, who coolly deposited them in his pouch, as if he had been receiving the result of an honest bargain. Meantime the waggon without much difficulty was lifted up from its position, and dragged on one side to allow the beeves to pass by. "I will give you an acknowledgment if you like, friend," said the robber with a laugh. "If you will write out the paper, I will sign it with my mark; for as to writing, it's an art I never learned." "How came you to know my name?" asked Jack. "I don't remember you." "We know every body who travels along this road, and maybe we have met before, though you don't recollect me," answered the robber. "And now farewell to you, and may you find a good market for your beasts, and success in all your dealings." Saying this, the robber turned his horse, and rode up the hill, while the rest of the band withdrew quickly out of sight. The poor fellows who had been hurt were placed on horseback, and Brinsmead and Jack Deane trudged along by their side, considerably downcast by the adventure. Brinsmead had never appeared so much put out. "This comes of the way you have of talking to all the people you meet, Mr Deane," he observed, in a tone very unlike that he usually used. "I have a belief that the man you were riding so long by the side of has had something to do with this day's business. I marked him when he passed me, and I told you then that I did not like his looks." "You mean Master Pearson, I suppose," answered Jack. "I cannot make out how he can have had any thing to do with the thieves. He told me all about himself; and if he was not an honest man, he would not have done that. He is a Yorkshireman, a dealer in wool and drapery, and is on his way to Stourbridge Fair and Newmarket. If he had had any sinister motive, he would not have spoken as frankly as he did."