“He ’s gwaine to give himself up—­he caan’t do more,” said Phoebe, turning to her father who now reappeared.

“Coourse he caan’t do more.  What more do ’e want?” the miller inquired.

“Him,” answered Mr. Chown.  “No more an’ no less; an’ everything said will be used against him.”

“You glumpy auld Dowl!” growled a labouring man.

“All right, all right.  You just wait, all of ’e!  Wheer’s the man?  How much longer be I to bide his pleasure?  March!  Damn it all! be the Law a laughing-stock?” The Inspector was growing very hot and excited.

“He’s gone,” said Phoebe, as Mr. Lamacraft entered the farm, put one foot on the bottom step of the stairs, then turned for further orders.  “He’s gone, before light.  He rested two hours or so, then us harnessed the trap an’ he drove away to Moreton to take fust train to Plymouth by way o’ Newton Abbot.  An’ he said as Ted Chown was to go in arter breakfast an’ drive the trap home.”

“Couldn’t tell me nothin’ as had pleased me better,” said the miller.  “‘T is a weight off me—­an’ off him I reckon.  Now you ’m answered, my son; you can telegraph back as you corned wi’ your auld handcuffs tu late by hours, an’ that the man’s on his way to give hisself up.”

“I’ve only got your word for it.”

“An’ what better word should ’e have?” piped Billy, who in the space of half a minute had ranged himself alongside his master.  “You to question the word o’ Miller Lyddon, you crooked-hearted raven!  Who was it spoke for ‘e fifteen year ago an’ got ’em to make ’e p’liceman ’cause you was tu big a fule to larn any other trade?  Gert, thankless twoad!  An’ who was it let ’em keep the ‘Green Man’ awpen two nights in wan week arter closin’ time, ’cause he wanted another drop hisself?”

“Come you away,” said the Inspector to his constable.  “Ban’t for the likes of we to have any talk wi’ the likes o’ they.  But they’ll hear more of this; an’ if theer’s been any hookem-snivey dealin’s with the Law, they’ll live to be sorry.  An’ you follow me likewise,” he added to his son, who stood hard by.  “You come wi’ me, Ted, for you doan’t do no more work for runaway soldiers, nor yet bald-headed auld antics like this here!”

He pointed to Mr. Blee, then turned to depart.

“Get off honest man’s land, you black-bearded beast!” screamed Billy.  “You ’m most like of any wan ever I heard tell of to do murder yourself; an’ auld as I be, I’d crawl on my hands an’ knees to see you scragged for ’t, if ’t was so far as the sun in heaven!”

“That’s libel,” answered Mr. Chown, with cold and haughty authority; “an’ you’ve put yourself in the grip of the Law by sayin’ it, as you’ll knaw before you ’m much aulder.”

Then, with this trifling advantage, he retreated, while Lamacraft and Ted brought up the rear.

“So theer’s an end of that.  Now us’ll fall to wi’ no worse appetites,” declared Miller.  “An’ as to Will,” he added, “’fore you chaps go, just mind an’ judge no man till you knaw what’s proved against him.  Onless theer’s worse behind than I’ve larned so far, I’m gwaine to stand by un.”