“Squire Peternot’s at the house, wants to see ye,” said Phin to his father.
“Come, has he?” laughed Sellick. “I felt sure he would want to hitch to that post! Wal, Jack! me an’ you’s got to go over to the Basin with the squire, on business. I’m a constable, you know. Didn’t think of that, did ye? Strip her clean, Phin; it dries up a cow like Sancho, to leave a little milk in her bag.”
“Sellick!” cried the deacon, while Jack stood white and dumb with consternation, “what’s the meaning of this?”
“I’ve a writ for the boy’s arrest,” replied Sellick. “Sorry for it. A little diffikilty between him and the squire. Nice man, the squire! As it’s on his own complaint, he thought it more properer that the boy should be taken before some other justice;—a very nice man, Peternot! Him and his nephew is going over to the Basin with us,—witnesses in the case,—before Judge Garty. You shouldn’t have picked a quarrel with the old man, my son,—nice man!”
“Come, Sellick!” cried the deacon, impatiently. “No more joking. I can’t believe Peternot has taken any such step; there’s no ground for it! Why, he’s the party at fault, if anybody! What’s the charge?”
“Breaking a winder, I believe,” replied Sellick, winking at Jack. “Mis’ Peternot thought a good deal of that winder. Nice old lady, Mis’ Peternot!”
“Jack! have you been smashing their windows?”
“No!” faltered Jack.
And before he could catch his breath, to enter into explanations, the deacon exclaimed, indignantly, “Where is the squire? I’ll see what he means by following up the boy in this way!” And he strode towards the house, more angry than Jack had ever seen him before.
Sellick followed with Jack; and Phin went last, looking strangely excited, if not delighted, and calling to Mr. Pipkin at the barn, “Hurrah, Pip! come and see the fun!”