The discomfited constable not venturing to proceed, and, indeed, unable to conceive how, without Holden’s assent, he could take him before the justice, now relinquished his prey, and endeavored to make his way out of the circle.  Hereupon an agitation arose, none could say how, the persons composing it began to be swayed backwards and forwards in a strange manner, and somehow or other poor Basset’s heels got tripped up, and before he could rise, several men and boys fell over him and crushed him with their weight, so that when he became visible in the heap, he presented a most pitiable appearance.  His coat was torn, his neckerchief twisted so tight about his neck, that he was half choked, and his hat jammed out of all shape.  It is doubtful whether he would have escaped so cheaply, had it not been for Gladding, who, after he thought Basset had suffered sufficiently, came to his assistance.

“I always stand by the law,” said Tom, helping him to his feet, “but I admire your imprudence, Basset, in trying to take up a man without a warrant.”

Basset’s faculties were too confused to enter into a discussion of the subject then, and with many threats of taking the law against his tormentors, and, attended by Tom, he limped off the ice.

Loud and boisterous were the congratulations with which the crowd had greeted Holden on his escape from the clutches of the constable, but he waved them off with a dignity which repressed their advances, and gave some offence.

“If I’d known the old fellow was so proud,” said one, “I guess Basset might have taken him for all I cared.”

“I sort o’ sprained my wrist in that last jam agin the constable,” said another, laughing, “and it’s een about as good as thrown away.”

“Perhaps,” cried a third, “when he’s took agin, I’ll be there to help, and perhaps I won’t.”

While these various speeches were being made, the young men with the ladies, had gathered around Holden, and were expressing their mortification at the annoyance he had experienced, and their pleasure at his escape.

“Why do the heathen rage, and the people imagine a vain thing?” cried the enthusiast.  “Surely their devices shall be brought to naught, and their counsels to no effect.  He that sitteth on the circle of the heavens shall laugh them to scorn, and spurn them in His displeasure.  Because for Thy sake, I have borne reproach; shame hath covered my face.  I am become a stranger unto my brethren, and an alien unto my mother’s children.”

He waited for no remark; he looked at no one; but taking up the pile of baskets which were tied together, threw them upon his back, and stalked over the ice in the direction of his cabin.

On their way home the young people discussed the events of the afternoon, dwelling on the meeting with Holden as on that which most occupied their minds.

“It is with a painful interest,” said Pownal, “that I meet the old man, nor can I think of him without a feeling of more than common regard.  I am sure it is not merely because he was lately of so great service to me, that I cannot listen to the tones of his voice without emotion.  There is in them a wild melancholy, like the sighing of the wind through pine trees, that affects me more than I can describe.”