"Nay, sir!" cried Squire West, who seemed to have quite lost his air of indecision, now that he no longer feared to come in direct conflict with Beau Brocade, "why did you not say this before? Here, Inch! Inch!" he added, going to the door and shouting lustily across the passage, "where is that cursed beadle? In Brassington, did you say, sir?"
"I'd almost swear to it, your Honour."
"Nay! then with a bit of good luck, we may at least lay this rascal by the heels. I would I could rid this neighbourhood of these rogues. Here, Inch," he continued, as soon as that worthy appeared in the doorway, "do you listen to what this gentleman has got to say. There's a d——d rascal in this village and you'll have to cry out his description at once, and then collar him as soon as may be."
Master Inch placed himself in a posture that was alike dignified and expectant. His Honour, Squire West, too, was listening eagerly, whilst Jack Bathurst with perfect sang-froid gave forth the description of the supposed highwayman.
"He wore a brown coat," he said calmly, "embroidered waistcoat, buff breeches, riding-boots and three-cornered hat. He is tall and stout of build, has dark hair slightly turning to grey, and was last seen carrying a gold-headed riding-crop."
"That's clear enough, Inch, is it not?" queried his Honour.
"It is marvellously pellucid, sir," replied the beadle.
"You may add, friend Beadle," continued Jack, carelessly, "that her ladyship offers a reward of twenty guineas for that person's immediate apprehension."
And Master Inch, beadle of the parish of Brassington, flew out of the door, and out of the Court House, bell in hand, for with a little bit of good luck it might be that he would be the first to lay his hand on the tall, stout rascal in a brown coat, and would be the one to earn the twenty guineas offered for his immediate apprehension.
Squire West himself was over pleased. It was indeed satisfactory to render service to so great a lady as Lady Patience Gascoyne without interfering over much with that dare-devil Beau Brocade. The depredations on Brassing Moor had long been a scandal in the county: it had oft been thought that Squire West had not been sufficiently active in trying to rid the Heath of the notorious highwayman, whose exploits now were famed far and wide. But here was a chance of laying a cursed rascal by the heels and of showing his zeal in the administration of the county.