Rotha gave Matthew a look of unmistakable gratitude, which, however, was wasted on that infuriated iconoclast.  Fixing his eyes steadily on the priest, the weaver forthwith gave his reverence more than one opportunity of hearing the unwelcome outburst again, telling him by only too palpable hints that the depth of his loyalty was his stipend of L300 a year, and the secret of his willingness to see Ralph in the hands of the constable of Carlisle was the fact that the young man had made no secret of his unwillingness to put off his hat to a priest who had thrice put off his own hat to a money-bag.

“Gang yer gate back to yer steeple-house, Nicholas Stevens,” said Matthew, “and mortify yer fatherly bosom for the good of the only soul the Almighty has gean to yer charge, and mind the auld saying, ’Nivver use the taws when a gloom will do the turn.’”

“You deserve the taws about your back, sirrah, to forget my sacred office so far as to speak so,” said the minister.

“And ye hev forgat yer sacred office to call me nicknames,” answered Matthew, nothing abashed.

“I see you are no better than those blaspheming Quakers whom Justice Rawlinson has wisely committed to the common gaol—­poor famished seducers that deserve the stocks!”

“Rich folk hev rowth of friends,” rejoined Matthew, “an’ olas will hev while the mak of thyself are aboot.”

His reverence was not slow to perceive that the pulpit had been no match for the Red Lion as a place of preparation for an encounter like the present.  Gathering up with what grace he could the tattered and besmeared skirts of his priestly dignity, he affected contempt for the weaver by ignoring his remarks; and, turning to those immediately around him, he proceeded with quite unusual warmth to deliver a homily on duty.  Reverting to the subject of Ralph Ray’s flight from Wythburn, he said that it was well that the young man had withdrawn himself, for had he remained longer in these parts, and had the high sheriff at Carlisle not proceeded against him, he himself, though much against his inclination, might have felt it his duty as a servant of God and the King to put the oath of allegiance to him.

“I do not say positively that I should have done so,” he said, in a confidential parenthesis, “but I fear I could not have resisted that duty.”

“Dree out the inch when ye’ve tholed the span,” cried Matthew; “I’d nivver strain lang at sic a wee gnat as that.”

Without condescending to notice the interruption, his reverence proceeded to say he had recently learned that it had been the intention of the judges on the circuit to recommend Angus Ray, the lamented departed, as a justice for the district.  This step had been in contemplation since the direful tragedy which had recently been perpetrated in their midst, and of which the facts remained still unexplained, though circumstantial evidence pointed to a solution of the mystery.