Now the human noise was over, but the wind roared on, and the rushing of the clouds let the stars look down again. Tremlett stood victorious in the middle of the gateway. Hurry was a state of mind beyond his understanding. Was everybody satisfied? Well, no one came for more. He took an observation of the weather, and turned round.
"Shan't bide here no longer," he announced. "Dick, us'll vinish up our clack to my place. Rain be droud up, and I be off."
"No, Harvey Tremlett, you will not be off. You will stay here like a man, and stand your trial."
Mr. Penniloe's hand was upon his shoulder, and the light of the stars, thrown in vaporous waves, showed the pale face firmly regarding him.
"Well, and if I says no to it, what can 'e do?"
"Hold you by the collar, as my duty is." The Parson set his teeth, and his delicate white fingers tightened their not very formidable grasp.
"Sesh!" said the big man, with a whistle, and making as if he could not move. "When a man be baten, a' must gie in. Wun't 'e let me goo, Passon? Do 'e let me goo."
"Tremlett, my duty is to hold you fast. I owe it to a dear friend of mine, as well as to my parish."
"Well, you be a braver man than most of 'em, I zimmeth. But do 'e tell a poor chap, as have no chance at all wi' 'e, what a' hath dooed, to be lawed for 'un so crule now."
"Prisoner, as if you did not know. You are charged with breaking open Colonel Waldron's grave, and carrying off his body."