A huge knife was handed to him, such as shepherds carry in the long legs of their boots. He stepped to the cart and ripped up the harness, which was rope harness, the shafts fell and the horse was free. Then the Bishop turned to the driver and said very quietly:
"Where do you live, my man?"
"At Sulby, my Lord," said the man, trembling with fear.
"You shall have leather harness to-morrow."
Then the Bishop went on, his soiled and draggled company following him, the cart lying helpless in the cart track behind them.
When they got to the top of the mountain they could see the Governor and the Deemster and their associates stretching the chain in the purple distance. The Bishop made in their direction, and when he came up with them, he said:
"Gentlemen, no food will reach you on the mountains to-day; the harness of your cart has been cut, and cart and provisions are lying on the hillside."
At this Thorkell turned white with wrath, and clenched his fists and stamped his foot on the turf, and looked piercingly into the faces of the Bishop's followers.
"As sure as I'm Deemster," he said, with an oath, "the man who has done this shall suffer. Don't let him deceive himself—no one, not even the Bishop himself, shall step in between that man and the punishment of the law."
The Bishop listened with calmness, and then said, "Thorkell, the Bishop will not intercede for him. Punish him if you can."