The sensation with which the news of this event was received by Sir Roger, and amongst his confreres of the woods and the bench, it would be impossible to describe. The audacity of Simon Degge had reached a pitch which surpassed all their bounds of conception. Why, he was daring to treat them as they had treated the humble villagers for centuries. At first there was a great talk of Mr. Degge having committed a robbery, of having carried off Sir Roger’s property from his own ground. But soon his cautious clerk advised him that Mr. Degge, as a magistrate, could seize an unlawful instrument anywhere. The man-trap was accordingly secured to the public stocks by strong rivets, and there it remained for many years. Whilst the event was fresh, many gentlemen and ladies drove or rode to Hillmartin to have a look at this relic of ancient savagery. On the Sunday following, hundreds of the working people, men, women, and children, flocked thither to see it, and as they returned by Rockville Hall gave very hearty groans for Sir Roger. There was a mighty consulting amongst this little group of the worst kind of country squires; and it was resolved to sign unanimously, of course, short of Mr. Degge and Sir Emanuel Clavering, an order for the release of the keeper—but the cautious clerk of the bench again advised against this. He represented that the man was legally committed for a legal offence, and such was the spirit of Mr. Degge, who was also now Mayor of Castleborough, that he would compel them by mandamus to show cause for such release, and this would make the affair still more widely commented upon. As it was, the liberal newspapers far and wide had published the account, and made most cutting criticisms upon it. They even called for the seizure of Sir Roger by warrant, and his committal to the treadmill. Nothing for a long time had excited such a paroxysm of public indignation.