Philip hesitated.

’Speak out, man!  Always ease an uneasy heart, and never let it get hidebound.’

’I had thought to convoy my cousin and the other young woman home, for the town is like to be rough, and it’s getting dark.’

‘And thou shalt, my lad,’ said the good old man; ’and I myself will try and restrain the natural inclinations of Nicholas and Henry.’

But when he went to find the shop-boys with a gentle homily on his lips, those to whom it should have been addressed were absent.  In consequence of the riotous state of things, all the other shops in the market-place had put their shutters up; and Nicholas and Henry, in the absence of their superiors, had followed the example of their neighbours, and, as business was over, they had hardly waited to put the goods away, but had hurried off to help their townsmen in any struggle that might ensue.

There was no remedy for it, but Mr. John looked rather discomfited.  The state of the counters, and of the disarranged goods, was such also as would have irritated any man as orderly but less sweet-tempered.  All he said on the subject was:  ’The old Adam! the old Adam!’ but he shook his head long after he had finished speaking.

‘Where is William Coulson?’ he next asked.  ’Oh!  I remember.  He was not to come back from York till the night closed in.’

Philip and his master arranged the shop in the exact order the old man loved.  Then he recollected the wish of his subordinate, and turned round and said—­

’Now go with thy cousin and her friend.  Hester is here, and old Hannah.  I myself will take Hester home, if need be.  But for the present I think she had best tarry here, as it isn’t many steps to her mother’s house, and we may need her help if any of those poor creatures fall into suffering wi’ their violence.’

With this, Mr. John knocked at the door of the parlour, and waited for permission to enter.  With old-fashioned courtesy he told the two strangers how glad he was that his room had been of service to them; that he would never have made so bold as to pass through it, if he had been aware how it was occupied.  And then going to a corner cupboard, high up in the wall, he pulled a key out of his pocket and unlocked his little store of wine, and cake, and spirits; and insisted that they should eat and drink while waiting for Philip, who was taking some last measures for the security of the shop during the night.

Sylvia declined everything, with less courtesy than she ought to have shown to the offers of the hospitable old man.  Molly took wine and cake, leaving a good half of both, according to the code of manners in that part of the country; and also because Sylvia was continually urging her to make haste.  For the latter disliked the idea of her cousin’s esteeming it necessary to accompany them home, and wanted to escape from him by setting off before he returned.  But any such plans were frustrated