“Heed him not,” interposed Sherborne, seeing that the squire was shaken by his threat, and taking him apart; “it will not do to let such a villain escape.  He can do you no injury, and as to Mistress Nutter, if you know where she is, it will be easy to give her a hint to get out of the way.”

“I don’t know that,” replied Nicholas, thoughtfully.

“If ey might be so bowd os offer my advice, squoire,” said old Crouch, advancing towards his master, “ey’d tee a heavy stoan round the felly’s throttle, an chuck him into t’ poo’, an’ he’n tell no teles fo’ all his bragging.”

“That would silence him effectually, no doubt, Crouch,” replied Nicholas, laughing; “but a dog’s death is too good for him, and besides I am pretty sure his destiny is not drowning.  No, no—­at all risks he shall go to Whalley.  Harkee, Fogg,” he added, beckoning that worthy to him, “I commit the conduct and custody of the prisoner to you.  Clap him on a horse, get on another yourself, take these four varlets with you, and deliver him into the hands of Sir Ralph Assheton, who will relieve you of all further trouble and responsibility.  But you may add this to the baronet from me,” he continued, in an under-tone.  “I recommend him to place under immediate arrest Elizabeth Device, the prisoner’s mother, and her daughter Jennet.  You understand, Fogg—­eh?”

“Perfectly,” returned the other, with a somewhat singular look; “and your instructions shall be fulfilled to the letter.  Have you any thing more to commit to me?”

“Only this,” said Nicholas; “you may tell Sir Ralph that I propose to sleep at the Abbey to-night.  I shall ride over to Middleton in the course of the day, to confer with Dick Assheton upon what has just occurred, and get the money from him—­the three hundred pounds, you understand—­and when my errand is done, I will turn bridle towards Whalley.  I shall return by Todmorden, and through the gorge of Cliviger.  You may as well tarry for me at the Abbey, for Sir Ralph will be glad of thy company, and we can return together to Downham to-morrow.”

As the squire thus spoke, he noticed a singular sparkle in Fogg’s ill-set eyes; but he thought nothing of it at the time, though it subsequently occurred to his recollection.

Meanwhile, the prisoner, finding no grace likely to be shown him, shouted out to the squire, that if he were set free, he would make certain important disclosures to him respecting Fogg, who was not what he represented himself; but Nicholas treated the offer with disdain; and the individual mainly interested in the matter, who appeared highly incensed by Jem’s malignity, cut a short peg by way of gag, and, thrusting it into the ruffian’s mouth, effectually checked any more revelations on his part.

Fogg then ordered the varlets to bring on the prisoner; but as Jem obstinately refused to move, they were under the necessity of taking him on their shoulders, and transporting him in this manner to the stables, where he was placed on a horse, as directed by the squire.