Jonas crawled up to the half-opened mill-door, and peered into the darkness before him.
“That you, master?” he whispered.
“Y-e-e-s,” was the soft answer.
“Have you got the maiden safe and sound?”
“Y-e-e-s.”
“Won’t the old miller be surprised in the morning when he finds she’s gone, ha! ha!” chuckled Jonas.
He passed the threshold, and was much astonished to see the door shut behind him.
Before he had time to breathe freely a long staff was aimed at his head.
The stroke was well intended, and a powerful one also; but it missed the right object, and fell with a hard crack on the head of a constable by mistake in the darkness.
A loud groan and a curse followed the fall of the oaken staff.