He had not heard the vicar's words, which were drowned by the savage hoots and yells, mingled with curses upon him, from half-starved women; but, oddly enough, he made straight for the house of the very man whom he hated, and nearly reached it, but was headed back, and fainting and exhausted, he only escaped capture by a clever double, by leaping a hedge, crossing the vicarage garden, and leaping another hedge, landing in the pasture-land leading towards Joe Banks's cottage, the vicarage standing at the apex formed by the roads leading to Ranby and the open land. This double made a number of his pursuers run round by the road, and gave time to the vicar and his followers to close up to the hunted man. "Make for the church," cried the vicar, who was close behind now; but his words were unheeded. All he could do was to get nearly behind the young man, determined to turn and face the crowd when they came up; but Richard, maddened with fear, paid no heed to advice, his breath was failing, he tottered, and was ready to fall; the pursuers gained upon them, and at last seeing the harbour, the hunted man dashed through the gate, in at Joe Banks's open door, closely followed by the vicar, Tom, and Big Harry, and then stood at bay in the farthest corner. "Help, quick! Banks, help!" cried the vicar hoarsely, and recovering from his astonishment, the foreman picked up the heavy poker, and joined the little rank of defenders, a swing of the iron forming a space which none of those who crowded into the room, and darkened door and window as they thronged the garden, dared to cross. "Stand back, you cowards!" cried the foreman, flushing with rage, and forgetting his own trouble in the excitement of the moment. "Gi'e him up! drag him out!" was roared. "A hundred on you to four!" cried Joe. "Stand back, or I'll brain the first man who comes near." "We don't want to hurt thee, Joe Banks," cried a voice. "Nor the parson, nor the others; but we wean't go wi'out Richard Glaire." "Back! every man of you," cried the vicar. "Shame, cowards, shame!" "Aw raight, parson," cried another. "It's cowardly mebbe, but we mean to hev him aw the same." "If you hev him, you'll hev to tak' me first," cried Joe Banks, fiercely. "You, Big Harry, hev the legs out o' that deaf Tommy table, and gi'e one apiece to Parson and Tom." The men tried to stop him, but a swing from Joe's poker sent them back, and the Hercules of the hammer seized the little three-legged table, shattered it in a moment, and armed his companions with the thick heavy cudgels that had formed its supports. "Now, lads, we're ready for you," said Joe, grimly. "Hit hard at the first as tries to lay a finger on the maister." There was a groan at this, taken up from without, those in the garden clamouring at those within to drag out Dicky Glaire. "Down wi' him, lads; down wi' him," cried a high-pitched voice; and Sim Slee, panting with his exertions, partly edged his way and partly was lifted in.