heard her warning. Then he understood that
something was wrong. His horse was dusty, hot, and trembling. He was
about to leap into his saddle when one of the constables who had been
watching outside and had seen him enter the yard, ran into it and seized
his bridle, shouting out to his comrades in the house.

Ben struck right and left with a heavy whip, and tried to break away;
but the man held him fast. The other constables then coming out, he was
secured. Poor Mary felt as if she should die when she saw Ben seized,
but she could do nothing to help him. He was brought into the house,
and handcuffs were put on his wrists.

"Now we have caged our bird we must be off," said the chief constable.

"Oh, treat him kindly," said poor Mary, with the tears in her eyes. "He
is not as bad as you may think--indeed, indeed he is not."

"Never knew one on 'em as was," said the man. "But for your sake, miss,
I'll do my best to make my young master comfortable, May be it's the
first time he has been had up; and, if he gets off, may be it will be
the last."

Mary could say nothing to this remark. Her mother, who had come in,
wrung her hands, and cried, and then called the constables all sorts of
hard names, while the miller looked as if he would have struck them.
More than once he glanced up at his gun, which hung over the
mantelpiece. The constable looked at him, and observed--

"Say what you like with your tongue, Mistress Page; I'm accustomed to
much worse than that; but don't you, Mister Page, touch me--that's all.
I'm in the execution of my duty--mind that."

The miller had to curb his temper, and to say no thing, while his only
son was carried off a prisoner. Mrs Page wrung her hands, and bewailed
her hard lot. Whilst out, she had heard of the murder of the
gamekeepers, and with good reason feared that Ben was guilty of the
crime. Ben did not speak. He could not say, "Rouse up, father; I am
not guilty of the crime laid to my charge."

With handcuffs on his wrists, as a felon, he was carried off by the
officers of justice. When he was gone, the miller sat with his head
bowed down, and his hands clasped between his knees. All he could say
was, "Has it come to this? has it come to this?" The miller seemed to
be really humbled and broken in spirit.

The next day Farmer Grey called to tell Mary that he had heard from
James, and that he was safe. More he could not tell her. She begged
him to see her father.