od of Satan, who have endeavoured to
break up the godly peace of the saints, and fill this goodly land with
blood and fire. Is it not said 'Root them out that they be no more a
people?'"

"Have after them, then," said another of the company. "We want no more
wars, to be taking our cows and killing our pigs. After them, I say!"

"You haven't got no warrant, 'Riginal," said a more cautious old man.
"Best be on the safe side. Go after constable first, and raise the
hue-and-cry. You'll easy overtake them. Breakneck Hill be sore for
horseflesh."

"I'd fain see Master Hatcham," said the smith, scratching his head.

Stead had meantime been listening as he paid his pence. It flashed over
him now where he had beheld those intensely dark eyes, and the very
peculiar cut of features, though they had then been much more boyish.
It was when he had seen the Prince of Wales going to the Cathedral on
Christmas Day, in the midst of all his plumed generals, with their gay
scarfs, and rich lace collars.

He had put little Ben on horseback, and turned away into the long,
dirty lane, or rather ditch, that led homeward, before, through his
consternation, there dawned on him what to do. A gap in the hedge lay
near, through which he dragged the horse into a pasture field, to the
great amazement of Ben, saying "See here, Ben, those folk want to take
yonder groom in grey. We will go and warn them."

Ben heartily assented.

"I like the groom," he said. "He jumped me five times off the
horseblock, and he patted Growler and called him a fine fellow, who
didn't deserve his name--worth his salt he was sure. We won't give
Growler salt, Stead, but don't let that ugly preaching man get the good
groom!"

Steadfast was by this time on the horse behind his little brother,
pressing through the fields, which by ancient custom were all thrown
open from harvest time till Christmas; and coming out into the open bit
of common that the travellers had to pass before arriving at Breakneck
Hill, he was just in time to meet them as they trotted on. He hardly
knew what he said, as he doffed his hat, and exclaimed--

"Madam, you are pursued."

"Pursued!" Both at once looked back.

"There's time," said Steadfast; "but Smith Hopkins said one of the shoes
was Worcester make, and he is gone to fetch the constable and raise the
hue-and-cry."

"And you are a loyal--I mean an honest lad--come to warn us," said the
groom.

"Yes, sir. I think, if you will trust