It was now past seven o’clock—the constables had brought in the inhabitants of the houses which they expected to be fired, and all was ready for the reception of the rioters. Eight o’clock struck—nine—ten, and Warenne and Seaforth were beginning to doubt whether the night for the attack had not been changed, when one of their most advanced scouts returned with the intelligence that all the labouring population, between Fisherton and the coast, seemed to be collecting on the coast road, about three miles from the town. Soon another and another scout came with similar reports; and lastly Nicholas, who had returned from Calbury to the Plashetts at an early hour, and had ridden in to be of service to his friends, brought an account that a large body of mounted men had come up, and that they were marching together on the town. Warenne immediately drew his men out in front of the inn. Seaforth rode gently forward to meet the insurgents. They had halted to drill their ranks, and their leaders were ordering their variously armed forces to their respective places, having brought forward to the front the mounted smugglers, who were all armed with pistols and a cutlass. Seaforth, with one or two of his friends, cantered up to them. He pulled up short, when within about two horse-lengths of the leading rank, and with a loud voice demanded the meaning of the present tumultuous assembly, and the cause of their entering Fisherton at such an hour of night. “I warn you,” said he, “that you are breaking the king’s peace, and acting contrary to the laws. I am a magistrate, and I charge you in the king’s name to disperse immediately.” “We know you well enough, Mr. Seaforth,” said a rough voice beside him, which he had heard before in his life, and which recalled unpleasant recollections; “I have reason to know you; take yourself off, or perhaps I shall give you reason to know me.” “Emlett?” exclaimed Seaforth. “Nay then, I fear I shall do little good, if you are at the head of this business; I know of old that you are not easily shaken from your purpose. Nevertheless, some of these poor misguided men may listen to me;” and raising his voice to the highest pitch, again he warned them to retire, repeating the words of the Riot Act. “Beware,” said Emlett, “we are not to be trifled with,” then adding a tremendous execration, he bade Seaforth “begone, or he would settle old scores with him there as he stood.” “You will do as you please,” answered the gallant magistrate. “Disperse, I pray you, my men; we are prepared to receive you—we have a strong body of dragoons just arrived.” “Take this, then, you prattling fool,” growled Emlett, exasperated at his undaunted defiance of his threats, and alarmed lest his address should shake his followers; and he fired his pistol at his head. Happily for all who knew, and what was the same thing, valued Seaforth, he missed his aim, and the voice of his intrepid antagonist was again heard—