Several minutes intervened, however, before the door was opened. A short, stout man, about the middle age, then made his appearance, and, discerning Bernard, hastily stepped out to the road.
“Give thee good morrow, fair master!” he cried. “What hath gone wrong?”
“Never thou heed what, Master Headborough!” replied Bernard; “but don thy cap, and mount thee up behind me.”
“But the law, Master Gray—the law of the matter?” inquired the constable. “Look you, an’ it be a simple matter of robbery, thou must needs have a warrant, as I take it, ere thou mayst take the thief.”
“Wilt thou come?” demanded Bernard.
“Prithee, be advised as to the law,” urged the constable. “We have adjudged in the instance of robbery. Now, look you, if it be a matter of battery by assault”—
“’Tis neither robbery nor assault,” cried Bernard. “’Tis an offence against the state; and if thou don not thy cap incontinently, I must even take thee without it.”
“Go to!” remonstrated the constable. “An’ it were but robbery and battery, the law, as thou sayest, were easy enough; but”—
He was still speaking, when, overcome with impatience, Bernard caught him up in his arms, and threw him, perforce, across the shoulders of his horse.
“Go to, thou!” he cried. “Settle thee afore the saddle, or, while thou pratest here, the offender will escape. Thou hadst better be hanged than that should be!”