Some armed with pokers, tongs, old rusty swords, pitchforks, and oaken clubs, rushed along the village green.
“To the mill! To the mill!” roared some.
“’Tis the Skeleton Crew!” shrieked others.
“They have murdered the miller, and run off with Ellen!”
“The constables are half murdered!”
“On, lads, on!”
These and similar shouts were now heard on every hand.
The rustics looked pale and startled at the bare mention of the Skeleton Crew, for they had long known what a savage, remorseless band they were.
Many, at the bare mention of the Skeleton Crew, ran into their cottages again, and barred their doors.
Not a few fell on their knees, and began to mumble out their prayers in a very rapid manner.