Pauline’s warning was well-timed, for the constables made a descent upon Caillaud’s lodgings as soon as they got him into jail, and thence proceeded to Coleman’s. They insisted on a search, and Mrs. Carter gave them a bit of her mind, for they went into every room of the house, and even into Mrs. Coleman’s bedroom. “I’ll tell you what it is, Mr. Nadin,” she said, turning towards the notorious chief constable, “if God A’mighty had to settle who was to be hung in Manchester, it wouldn’t be any of them poor Blanketeers. Wouldn’t you like to strip the clothes off the bed? That would be just in your line.” “Hold your damned tongue!” quoth Mr. Nadin; but, nevertheless, seeing his men grinning and a little ashamed of themselves, he ordered them back. Meanwhile Zachariah pursued his way north-westward unchallenged, and at last came to a roadside inn, which he thought looked safe. He walked in, and found half a dozen decent-looking men sitting round a fire and smoking. One of them was a parson, and another was one of the parish overseers. It was about half-past ten, and they were not merry, but a trifle boozy and stupid. Zachariah called for a pint of beer and some bread and cheese, and asked if he could have a bed. The man who served him didn’t know; but would go and see. Presently the overseer was beckoned out of the room, and the man came back again and informed Zachariah that there was no bed for him, and that he had better make haste with his supper, as the house would close at eleven. In a minute or two the door opened again, and a poor, emaciated weaver entered and asked the overseer for some help. His wife, he said, was down with the fever; he had no work; he had had no victuals all day, and he and his family were starving. He was evidently known to the company. “Ah,” said the overseer, “no work, and the fever and starving; that’s what they always say. I’ll bet a sovereign you’ve been after them Blanketeers.” “It’s a judgment on you,” observed the parson. “You and your like go setting class against class; you never come near the church, and then you wonder God Almighty punishes you.” “You can come on your knees to us when it suits you, and you’d burn my rick to-morrow,” said a third. “There’s a lot of fever amongst ’em down my way,” said another, whose voice was rather thick, “and a damned lot of expense they are, too, for physic and funerals. It’s my belief that they catch it out of spite.” “Aren’t you going to give me nothing?” said the man. “There isn’t a mouthful of food in the place, and the wife may be dead before the morning.” “Well, what do you say, parson?” said the overseer. “I say we’ve got quite enough to do to help those who deserve help,” he replied, “and that it’s flying in the face of Providence to interfere with its judgment.” With that he knocked the ashes out of his pipe, and took a great gulp of his brandy-and-water. There was an echo of assent.