had not enjoined him to conceal. Faithful to his instructions, he
exculpated Holden from all blame, praising him for his submissiveness
to the law, expressing his conviction that the old man knew nothing of
the intentions of his captors, nor whether they were friends or
foes. Notwithstanding the reluctance of the constable, the indignant
Justice, in the first ebullition of his anger, made out another
mittimus, which he almost forced into the other's unwilling hands, and
commanded him to arrest the fugitive, wherever he might find him, by
night or by day, on the Lord's Day or on any other day, were the place
the Sanctuary itself.

But the rescue had diverted public attention from the Solitary into
another channel, and the community had not a stock of indignation
sufficient, like the Justice, to expend on Holden as well as on his
rescuers. It appeared, even to the few who were originally in favor
of his arrest, that he had suffered enough, satisfied as they were,
as well from his behavior they had witnessed as from the report of the
constable, that he had in no respect contributed to his freedom, but
was rather compelled to accept it, and therefore attaching no blame to
him for the escape. The resentment of the citizens was now transferred
to the daring offenders, who, with a strong hand, had interposed
between the sentence and the execution of the law, and this last
offence, as being of so much greater magnitude than Holden's, cast it
quite into the shade. Who were they? Who would have the audacity, in
the midst of a law-loving and law-abiding people, to trample on the
laws and defy the State? The constable could give no information. He
had not even seen a person. He had only heard a voice he never heard
before. Ought not some persons to be arrested on suspicion? Who should
they be? Who were obnoxious to suspicion? The friends of the Solitary
were among the most respectable people in the place. Would it be safe
to proceed against them? There would be some hazard in the experiment.
They would be sure to defend themselves to the uttermost, and if
successful as they probably would be, would make the movers in the
matter rue their officiousness.

Of such a nature were the various questions discussed around the
hearths, and in the bank and shops of the little town of Hillsdale.
The excitement was a perfect god-send to stir the sluggish blood of
winter. Above all it was attractive for the mystery that invested it.
But we wil