Brattle made no answer, but walked along towards the house at the parson's left hand, the parson holding him the while by the neck of his jacket, and swinging the life-preserver in his right hand. In this way he took him round to the front of the house, and then began to think what he would do with him. "That, after all, you should be at this work, Sam!" "What work is it, then?" "Prowling about my place, after midnight, with a couple of strange blackguards." "There ain't so much harm in that, as I knows of." "Who were the men, Sam?" "Who was the men?" "Yes;--who were they?" "Just friends of mine, Mr. Fenwick. I shan't say no more about 'em. You've got me, and you've smashed my arm, and now what is it you're a-going to do with me? I ain't done no harm,--only just walked about, like." To tell the truth, our friend the parson did not quite know what he meant to do with the Tartar he had caught. There were reasons which made him very unwilling to hand over Sam Brattle to the village constable. Sam had a mother and sister who were among the Vicar's first favourites in the parish; and though old Jacob Brattle, the father, was not so great a favourite, and was a man whom the Squire, his landlord, held in great disfavour, Mr. Fenwick would desire, if possible, to spare the family. And of Sam, himself, he had had high hopes, though those hopes, for the last eighteen months had been becoming fainter and fainter. Upon the whole, he was much averse to knocking up the groom, the only man who lived on the parsonage except himself, and dragging Sam into the village. "I wish I knew," he said, "what you and your friends were going to do. I hardly think it has come to that with you, that you'd try to break into the house and cut our throats." "We warn't after no breaking in, nor no cutting of throats, Mr. Fenwick. We warn't indeed!" "What shall you do with yourself, to-night, if I let you off?" "Just go home to father's, sir; not a foot else, s'help me." "One of your friends, as you call them, will have to go to the doctor, if I am not very much mistaken; for the rap I gave you was nothing to what he got. You're all right?" "It hurt, sir, I can tell ye;--but that won't matter." "Well, Sam,--there; you may go. I shall be after you to-morrow, and the last word I say to you, to-night, is this;--as far as I can see, you're on the road to the gallows. It isn't pleasant to be hung, and I would advise you to change your road." So saying, he let go his hold, and stood waiting till Sam should have taken his departure. "Don't be a-coming after me, to-morrow, parson, please," said the man. "I shall see your mother, certainly." "Dont'ee tell her of my being here, Mr. Fenwick, and nobody shan't ever come anigh this place again,--not in the way of prigging anything."