“If it only be one o’ _them_ chaps,” said the chief officer, “I’d give a hundred gold pieces, that I would, for I shall never rest content till I have cracked one o’ their skulls; the mean devils, to come when no one expected on ’em, and fight their way in and out of the lock-up.” This thought was alike echoed by all. They felt great annoyance that two youths should have possessed the nerve and courage to fall upon the lock-up guard, and thrash them as Wildfire Ned and Tim the groom had done. If Ned had sent warning that he was coming to rescue Bob, the constables, of course, would have been there a dozen strong to oppose him, and this they considered would have been “fair play.” But now that Miller Harmer brought information that there was more than one suspicious stranger in the village, the constable made sure that they were the identical two they so much desired to capture. From the bustle and preparations made by the half dozen constables one would suppose that the valiant guardians of the public peace were bent upon storming some castle or stronghold. With lanterns and staves and clubs they sallied forth. “Lead on, Mr. Miller,” said the chief, buttoning up his doublet. “Lead on, sir, we’ll give the two rascals such a dressing as they never had before in all their lives.” Old Harmer conducted the constables to his mill. He unlocked the huge doors and admitted them. They hid themselves behind a lowering pile of corn and flour sacks, and darkened their lanterns. “Stand firm, my merry men,” said the chief of the party. “Stand firm; and when the signal is given arrest the rascal as he enters.” Miller Harmer now went to the half-opened door. He gave three shrill whistles, each after an interval of about half a minute. “Here the villain comes,” said Harmer, hiding himself. Jonas at that moment was observed approaching in a stealthy, cat-like manner, crawling along under the shadow of the trees and cottages of the village. He was seen to stop once or twice, and look furtively around him. He did not know why, but a feeling of suspicion assured him that in some way his master’s scheme for abducting Ellen Harmer would involve heavy blows, if not broken sconces. He had armed himself, therefore, with a stout, short club of oak, which he concealed under his cloak. As he approached the mill door he was half-inclined to run away again.