of muddy port wine, and scolding like angry old women. No
wonder Supplehough should have dipped sixteen adult converts in a
day--which he did a fortnight since; no wonder Barraclough, scamp and
hypocrite as he is, should attract all the weaver-girls in their flowers
and ribbons, to witness how much harder are his knuckles than the wooden
brim of his tub; as little wonder that _you_, when you are left to
yourselves, without your rectors--myself, and Hall, and Boultby--to back
you, should too often perform the holy service of our church to bare
walls, and read your bit of a dry discourse to the clerk, and the
organist, and the beadle. But enough of the subject. I came to see
Malone.--I have an errand unto thee, O captain!"

"What is it?" inquired Malone discontentedly. "There can be no funeral
to take at this time of day."

"Have you any arms about you?"

"Arms, sir?--yes, and legs." And he advanced the mighty members.

"Bah! weapons I mean."

"I have the pistols you gave me yourself. I never part with them. I lay
them ready cocked on a chair by my bedside at night. I have my
blackthorn."

"Very good. Will you go to Hollow's Mill?"

"What is stirring at Hollow's Mill?"

"Nothing as yet, nor perhaps will be; but Moore is alone there. He has
sent all the workmen he can trust to Stilbro'; there are only two women
left about the place. It would be a nice opportunity for any of his
well-wishers to pay him a visit, if they knew how straight the path was
made before them."

"I am none of his well-wishers, sir. I don't care for him."

"Soh! Malone, you are afraid."

"You know me better than that. If I really thought there was a chance
of a row I would go: but Moore is a strange, shy man, whom I never
pretend to understand; and for the sake of his sweet company only I
would not stir a step."

"But there _is_ a chance of a row; if a positive riot does not take
place--of which, indeed, I see no signs--yet it is unlikely this night
will pass quite tranquilly. You know Moor has resolved to have new
machinery, and he expects two wagon-loads of frames and shears from
Stilbro' this evening. Scott, the overlooker, and a few picked men are
gone to fetch them."

"They will bring them in safely and quietly enough, sir."

"Moore says so, and affirms he wants nobody. Some one, however, he must
have, if it were only to bear evidence in case anything should happen. I
call him very careless. He sits in the counting-house with th