“Well, Jack, what do yo’ say?” asked my father.
“Say? Well aw say I’m noan goin’ to be kept on th’ tenterhooks. Awm goin’ to know all at is to be known. I’m goin’ to reconnoitre. They can’t hang me for a spy, any road, an’ that’s what they nearly did in Spain. Just yo’ cower quiet, Ben. I’m off to th’ Brig. There’ll be more known there. Just you leave it to me; an’ I’ll be back wi’ my budget bi th’ afternoon drinkin.”
And Jack set off without parley, and left us to our anxieties.
He was back by four o’clock. Mr. Webster had been in and out half a dozen times, having passed the afternoon in reading the Scriptures with a distraught air at the houses of those of his flock who lived at Upper and Lower Holme.
Jack’s face was very sober when he came into the house and found us waiting, Mary and Faith with us, for I had not thought it necessary to hide from them the serious aspect of our affairs, and we had all gone about all day, my mother declared, as if we had th’ bailiffs in, which to her mind was far worse than a death.
“It’s Walker’s split, sure enough,” said Jack coming to the point at once. “Him an’ Bill Hall. George Mellor and Thorpe and Smith have been taken and sent off to York under guard. That’s for Horsfall’s job they say. John Walker, Ben’s own brother, ‘s pinched for Rawfolds. So’s Jon’than Dean an’ Tom Brook an’ two or three others, but I couldn’t reightly find out who an’ how many more. But there’s no gainsayin’ them. An’ more nor likely there’s more to folly. When aw got to th’ Brigg there wer’ a crowd round Buck Walker’s house, booin’ an’ callin’ out ‘black sheep, black sheep.’ But that’ll do no gooid. There wer’ some o’ those new constables at Mr. Radcliffe’s brought up i’ th’ front o’ th’ house, an’ bar a stone or two thrown at th’ windows no harm wer done. Aw made mi way in, an’ gate a word wi’ Mrs. Walker, Ben’s mother.”
“But George—where was he taken? Cannot yo’ tell us more of him?”
Jack glanced covertly at Faith. She sat with fingers tight interlaced upon her knee. Her eyes were fixed on Soldier, wide dilated. Her lips were parted, and she scarce breathed.
“Oh, tell us of George,” she sighed rather than spoke.
“He wer’ ta’en at th’ shop. He wer’ workin’ with th’ shears, an’ like as not thinkin’ o’ nowt so little as th’ sodjers. They’d come up, about six on ’em, very quiet, an’ owd Radcliffe hissen wer’ with ’em wi’t officer wi’ th’ warrant. Radcliffe come reight up to th’ door as bold as brass afore anyone i’side wer’ aware on him, an’ Ben Walker wer’ wi’ him. Ben sidles into th’ shop, an’ George turns to speak to him but his eye fell o’ Mr. Radcliffe stood i’ th’ door way.”