“That is for wise men like thee to find out.”
“Well, then, here are Roger Hancock, John Sprygs, James Griggs, Denis Howlet, the four constables, and Laurence Craveall, a body servant of Sir John Redfyrne.”
“I fear me, friend, thou art taking the names of better men in vain; more to the token, thou showest thyself a liar: for well do I know that neither Jack Sprygs nor Jim Griggs ever leave the ale-tap after curfew, until it is time to tumble, drunk, into their sinful beds.”
“Break open the doors,” cried the two impugned worthies, in a rage.
“I will loose the mastiff upon you.”
But in spite of this direful threat, which it would have been difficult to fulfil, as no mastiff was in the house, the men commenced breaking down the door.
At that instant old Hodge appeared, and signifying by a sign all was right, cried aloud—
“What are you doing at my door?”
“Breaking it down, with a search warrant for our justification.”
“Thou mayst save thyself the trouble; I have nought here to hide;” and the old man withdrew the bars.