“Afore the Justices! Mistress Benden! Dear saints, but wherefore?”
“Oh, I wis nought of the inwards thereof,” said Esdras, pulling a switch from the hedge. “Some saith one thing, and some another. But they saith she’ll go to prison, safe sure.”
“Oh, Esdras, I am sorry!” said Penuel, in a tone of great distress. “Mother will be sore troubled. Everybody loves Mistress Benden, and few loveth her master. There’s some sorry blunder, be thou sure.”
“Very like,” said Esdras, turning to run off after the disappearing company.
“Esdras,” said little Patience suddenly, “you’ve got a big hole in you.”
“Oh, let be! my gear’s alway in holes,” was the careless answer. “It’ll hold together till I get back, I reckon. Here goes!”
And away went Esdras, with two enormous holes in his stockings, and a long strip of his jacket flying behind him like a tail.
“Oh dear, this world!” sighed Penuel. “I’m afraid ’tis a bad place. Come, little Patience, let us go home.”
When the girls reached Mrs Pardue’s cottage, they found there the mother of Patience, Mrs Bradbridge. She sat talking earnestly to Mrs Pardue, who was busy washing, and said little in answer beyond such replies, compatible with business, as “Ay,” “I reckon so,” or “To be sure!”
“Mother!” said Penuel, as she led Patience in, “have you heard of this matter of Mistress Benden’s?”