"Here, in this veritable inn," said Grasp.
"And when?" inquired the constable.
"Why, now, even now: go to—see what it is to bear a brain."
"Nay, then, Master Grasp," said the constable, "if the case, I also have a discovery to tell of."
"Ah!" said Grasp, "what is it?"
"Whilst we lay perdue in yonder corner of the orchard. But, stay, dost see that tree there with the spade against it?"
"I do," said Grasp, eagerly.
"With that spade, and under the third tree in line therewith, did Will Shakespeare dig a hole this night, and into that hole did Diccon Snare bury a something concealed in a sack."
"Ha! say'st thou; by my faith the skin of the stolen deer," said Grasp, "as I'm a lawyer. Let us mark the tree; and now, my lads, I have ye emmeshed in a lovely web. No noise, ye knaves," he continued to his men, "but get through the hedge and away."
"Ha! ha! Master William Shakespeare," he said, as he followed his two ill-looking myrmidons. "Now, will I to Sir Thomas Lucy, of Charlecote, knight and magistrate, and then will we let the law loose upon ye."