“You’ll have plenty of time to talk later on,” said the big man. “But you’ve got to come along wi’ us to Plymouth now, Daniel Sweetland, so the sooner we start the better. I hope as you’ll prove yourself innocent with all my heart; but that’s your business. Now I must do mine.” In an instant Dan’s hands were fastened together. Powerful and stout though he was, he found himself a child in the giant’s grasp. Indeed, the young man made no struggle. He felt dazed and believed that from this nightmare he must presently awaken. The steel clicked over his wrists and his mother screamed. At the same moment Bartley brought up a dog-cart. In it a big, restive horse leapt to be gone. Daniel turned to Titus Sim. “I can’t believe I’m waking, old pal,” he said. “Be I married? Be I dreaming? Murder--to murder a man! Do your best, Titus; do what you can for me. Try an’ bring a spark of hope to father an’ mother. They know I’m innocent of this--so does Minnie. Do what you can. An’ Mr Henry--he don’t think ’twas me? He wouldn’t judge me so cruel?” “He’s hard and a terrible stickler for justice. But be sure we’ll do what men may, Daniel.” “Then ’tis to you I’ll trust--to you an’ my own wits. Good-bye, Minnie; keep up your brave heart as well as you can. ’Twill come right. I must think--I can prove--at least. There--be brave, all of ’e. Don’t you weep, mother. You’ve got my solemn word I didn’t do it; an’ if the rope was round my neck, I’d say the same.” The old woman sank away from him and fainted; Minnie stood close to him until he was helped into the trap; Sim shook his handcuffed hand. The crowd was divided and men’s voices rose in argument. The last to speak was Daniel’s father. “Keep a stiff upper-lip, my son,” he said. “Us’ll do what we can. I’ll go to Lawyer Jacobs to Newton this very day. Us’ll fight for ’e with all our power.” Daniel nodded. “Bid mother cheer up when she comes to,” he said. “I ban’t feared. An’ take care o’ Minnie.” He sat on the front of the trap and the big man drove. Upon the back seat were Inspector Gregory and the policeman, Luke Bartley. The horse was given its head, and soon Daniel had vanished. He was to be driven over the Moor to Plymouth. For a moment Minnie seemed to be forgotten. Then she went quietly to her weeping aunt and kissed her. “I be going now,” she said. “Going--going where, you poor, deserted, tibby lamb? Where should you go?” “To my home,” answered the girl. “I’m Mrs Daniel Sweetland now. I’ve got to keep up Dan’s name afore the world an’ be the mistress of his house. ’Tis waiting for me. I’ll have it vitty for him when he comes backalong.” “Go up there all alone to that wisht hovel in the middle of them deadly bogs? You sha’n’t do it, Minnie--I won’t let you.” “An’ the name of the place!” groaned Mr Beer. “I prayed un to alter it too. ’Twas bound to bring ill fortune. Now ’tis an omen.”