“Then it will make ’em dance, no mistake,” said the clarionet. “Do you think, churchwarden, it will draw?” “Draw?” Pasco rubbed his hands and looked round. “It’ll draw getting on for fifteen hundred pound. If that bain’t drawin’, show me what is!” This announcement produced a great effect. “To go back to the p’int,” said the clarionet. “It would be a comfort to us all if you’d give us your ideas on the matter of the fire. You see, we’re all abroad.” “I wouldn’t hurt nobody’not a fly. I was always tender-hearted,” said Pasco. “Besides, you’d talk.” “We are all friends,” urged the bassoon. “You see, coals don’t as a rule set alight to themselves, nor wool, nor hides neither.” “That’s what I’ve said all along,” observed the second fiddle. “Someone must ha’ done it. The question is’who?” “I’ll have another thimbleful of punch,” said the bass viol. “It’s uncommon good, and does credit to all parties’ ‘Come let’s drink, and drown all sorrow, For perchance we may not’ For perchance we may not meet here to-morrow.’” Then the hautboy trolled out’ “‘He that goes to bed, goes to bed sober Falls as the leaves does’ Falls as the leaves does’in October.’” “Someone must ha’ done it,” observed the clarionet. “Of course some one did,” said Pepperill, “and when folk begin yarnin’ lies, you ain’t got to go far to find the evil-doer.” “That’s true,” was the chorus. “And no one was at the Cellars at the time but one or two persons,” said the clarionet. “One was Jason Quarm,” said Pasco; “and burnt he was not, as was proved by the constable.” “I don’t know,” said the second fiddle. “The fire was so tremendous hot, and lasted so tremendous long, it would ha’ burned a fatter man nor Jason Quarm.” “Jason’s not burnt. He’s runned away.” “Runned away?” “Yes,” pursued Pasco; “’cos he didn’t want to have to give evidence as to what he knew.” “What wor that?” “He comed to the Cellars, and found someone there doin’ of the wickedness, and he runned away so as not to have to say what he didn’t want to be forced to say.” “What was that?” “It’s not for me to speak!” “Someone did it! who could ha’ done it?” said the clarionet. “I thought it wor proved, if I may be so bould, that you, Mr. Churchwarden, comed back to the Cellars.” “I?” exclaimed Pasco, becoming purple in the face. “It suited somebody’s convenience to say so, but I was in the linhay minding the hoss, and I put it to the company’no one can be in two places at once, can they?” “There’s something in that.” “I was minding the hoss, but I sent somebody back to lock up. I name no names, and she’s gone and put it on me to clear herself.” The eyebrows of all the instrumentalists went up. “Kitty? What! Kitty Alone?”