The party consisted of seven mounted men, all armed to the teeth, who arrived in the village one evening, several days after the commission of the murder.
They pulled up their horses, and alighted at the “Red Lion” public-house.
With many loud words, a great deal of bombastic talk and swearing, they clattered about the inn yard, shouting to the ostlers and servants in such a grand style that old Hornblower, the publican, began to think that perhaps his visitors were none other than royal personages, or nobles, at least.
Old Horn (the “blower” always being left out in common discourse) was very much mistaken; the new arrivals were none other than six thief-takers, and as big rogues and rascals as ever straddled horses, or swaggered about with swords at their heels.
They were dressed in their best, however, and seemed very flush of money; how they got it will be seen hereafter.
They rang the bells loudly, shouted and swore right and left until old Horn and his servants were almost driven mad.
“Who be they?” asked the ostler.
“Don’t know, lad; but suppose they’re very great folks.”
“They ride good nags, anyhow.”
“And kick up a darned big fuss, too. Can’t ye hear ’em?”