“Courage, Jonas, courage,” said he to himself, half aloud. “Remember the rich reward in store for you. The colonel, my master, is a bold, brave devil, and I must be so likewise. So I am,” said Jonas, slapping his chest. “Who knows but what I may be a gentleman one of these fine days, if all goes on well? Won’t that be grand? Courage, then, Jonas; none but the brave deserve the fair. Onward! rewards and honour await you! That whistle, though, didn’t much sound like master’s,” he thought, “and yet it must be. There it is again. All is right; the girl is secured. Onward, Jonas; teach these rustic villagers what brave stuff Londoners are made of.” He crept towards the mill slowly and very carefully, and it must be confessed that his legs trembled violently under him, and his teeth chattered. “He comes,” said the miller, in a half-whisper. “Make ready to receive him.” Jonas crawled up to the half-opened mill-door, and peered into the darkness before him. “That you, master?” he whispered. “Y-e-e-s,” was the soft answer. “Have you got the maiden safe and sound?” “Y-e-e-s.” “Won’t the old miller be surprised in the morning when he finds she’s gone, ha! ha!” chuckled Jonas. He passed the threshold, and was much astonished to see the door shut behind him. Before he had time to breathe freely a long staff was aimed at his head. The stroke was well intended, and a powerful one also; but it missed the right object, and fell with a hard crack on the head of a constable by mistake in the darkness. A loud groan and a curse followed the fall of the oaken staff. In an instant Jonas comprehended all. He was entrapped, and escape impossible. “Oh! the bloodthirsty scoundrels!” he groaned. “That blow was meant for me.” He produced his own small cudgel, and laid about him right and left in the darkness. He then fell upon his hands and knees, and crawled from the midst of his enemies. Total darkness prevented the officers from seeing what they were doing or ought to do. But they hit right and left among themselves, and some of them were tripped up by Jonas. “I’ve got him! I’ve got him!” roared the chief constable. “He tried to crawl through my legs, but couldn’t.” “Give it to him, then!” said another. And sure enough the chief constable _did_ give it to him. But he had the wrong man between his legs, and was pounding away on the back of an unlucky prostrate comrade, like as if he were thumping a big drum. Shouts, oaths, and groans were now heard on all sides. Jonas, as nimble as a monkey, climbed on to the sacks of flour piled up right and left. His own weight toppled them over. They fell among the combatants, and knocked several of them over. Old Harmer, surprised at the change in the state of things, and, fearful that Jonas should escape, rushed to a long rope, and pulled the mill bell, which hung in an old tower. He tugged away, and alarmed the whole village.