Whereupon the man who had been robbed repeated his statement. He had, it seemed, been first of all terrified by Frank's antics. And then on the open moor, when he had found himself stopped, and relieved of his portmanteau by two masked men, he had distinctly heard the name "Osbaldistone" applied by one of his assailants in speaking to the other. He furthermore certified that all the Osbaldistones had been Papists and Jacobites from the time of William the Conquerer. From which it was clear that Frank was the guilty man! Frank replied that it was true that, like a foolish, gamesome youth, he had certainly practised somewhat on the fears of the man Morris, but that he had never seen him since he parted from him at Darlington, and that, far from being a Papist and a Jacobite, he could easily prove that he had been brought up in the strictest school of Presbyterianism and in full obedience to the government of King George. Clerk Jobson, however, was sharp enough to turn Frank's admissions against him, and said that since he had voluntarily assumed the behaviour of a robber or malefactor, he had by that very act brought himself within the penalties of the law. But at this moment a letter was handed to the Clerk, which informed him that a certain old Gaffer Rutledge was at the point of death, and that he, Clerk Jobson, must go immediately to his house in order to settle all his worldly affairs. The clerk, after offering to make out the warrant of commitment before setting out, at last, and with great reluctance, rode away. Then the Justice, who evidently still fully believed in Frank's guilt, counselled him as a friend to let bygones be bygones, and to give Mr. Morris back his portmanteau. Frank had hardly time to be indignant at this when a servant announced--"A stranger to wait upon the Justice!" "A stranger!" echoed the Justice, in very bad temper; "not upon business, or I'll--" But his protestation was cut short by the entrance of the stranger himself, and by the stern deep voice of Mr. Campbell, who immediately produced his usual effect upon Squire Inglewood. "My business is peculiar," said the Scot, "and I ask your Honour to give it your most instant consideration." Then Mr. Campbell turned on Morris such a look of ferocity that it made that valiant gentleman shake visibly from head to foot. "I believe you cannot have forgotten what passed between us at our last meeting," he said, "and you can bear me witness to the Justice that I am a man of fortune and honour. You will be some time resident in my vicinity, and you know it will be in my power to do as much for you. Speak out, man, and do not sit there chattering your jaws like a pair of castanets." At last an answer was extracted from the trembling Mr. Morris, but with as much difficulty as if it had been a tooth. "Sir--sir--," he stammered, "yes--I do believe you to be a man of fortune and of honour--I do believe it!"