The clergyman, elated, yet not without secret doubts, gave all necessary promises, and Mr. Moses did the like. Then Mr. Fogo went his way. He was in church again next Sunday and, meantime, conducted himself in a manner that mystified most frequenters of ’The Corner House.’ Shillabeer declared that something was weighing on Mr. Fogo’s mind, and Moses, who heard rumours, carried them to the vicar. Then came grey dawn on the eventful morning and, before it was yet light, ’Frosty-face,’ as good as his word, arrived at the vicarage. Mr. Ernest Maunder, with the warrant and another constable, had already arrived, and a moment later Mr. Moses came on the scene. The first glimmer of light was in the sky and the day opened cold and clear. Stars shone overhead and the road tinkled with ice underfoot; but clouds were already banking against the northern horizon. "I’m here to take you to the appointed place," said Fogo. "All is settled and the men are to be in the ring before eleven o’clock. You will be snugly hidden not a hundred yards from the spot when they begin. ’Tis Ringmoor Down has been chosen--alongside the wood at the west end by the turnpike. We can’t miss it, because the ring was pitched overnight--I helped, so as not to bring down no suspicion on myself." They started silently to climb the steep hill that ascends out of Sheepstor to Ringmoor. At Fogo’s advice they carried food and drink with them, for the morning was very cold and laden with promise of snow. "You mustn’t mind hard words," said the betrayer. "They can’t do nothing to any of you, because it’s a fair score and you’ve won for two reasons. Firstly, by having more wits in your heads than them, and secondly, because his reverence has converted me to see the truth. I’m the only one as would be roughly handled and very likely--an old man like me--get my death from it; so I shan’t stop for the great moment when you step forth in the name of the Queen’s Majesty and bid ’em all to keep the peace. I shall see you in your places, and then I’ve arranged for a trap to come for me to the pike, and off I go to Plymouth. I won’t face the music--why should I? As it is, I shall go in fear and trembling this many a day." "You need neither fear nor tremble, Fogo," said Mr. Merle. "The mind conscious of rectitude is armed against all fear. You have done your duty, difficult though it was; you will have your reward." "Thank you for that helpful word," answered ’Frosty-face’; "and I beg, if your reverence don’t find it too much for your bellows against the hill, that you’ll speak a few comforting speeches to me as we travel along. I’m an aged man to turn from vanity at my time of life; yet in your sermon yesterday you said ’twas never too late to mend, and I took that to myself." "You were perfectly justified in so doing," said Mr. Merle.