rop that
fell down the chimney into the fire, and the steady puffing of the man in
the corner, who had now resumed his pipe of long clay.

The stillness was unexpectedly broken. The distant sound of a gun
reverberated through the air--apparently from the direction of the county-
town.

'Be jiggered!' cried the stranger who had sung the song, jumping up.

'What does that mean?' asked several.

'A prisoner escaped from the jail--that's what it means.'

All listened. The sound was repeated, and none of them spoke but the man
in the chimney-corner, who said quietly, 'I've often been told that in
this county they fire a gun at such times; but I never heard it till
now.'

'I wonder if it is my man?' murmured the personage in cinder-gray.

'Surely it is!' said the shepherd involuntarily. 'And surely we've zeed
him! That little man who looked in at the door by now, and quivered like
a leaf when he zeed ye and heard your song!'

'His teeth chattered, and the breath went out of his body,' said the
dairyman.

'And his heart seemed to sink within him like a stone,' said Oliver
Giles.

'And he bolted as if he'd been shot at,' said the hedge-carpenter.

'True--his teeth chattered, and his heart seemed to sink; and he bolted
as if he'd been shot at,' slowly summed up the man in the chimney-corner.

'I didn't notice it,' remarked the hangman.

'We were all a-wondering what made him run off in such a fright,'
faltered one of the women against the wall, 'and now 'tis explained!'

The firing of the alarm-gun went on at intervals, low and sullenly, and
their suspicions became a certainty. The sinister gentleman in cinder-
gray roused himself. 'Is there a constable here?' he asked, in thick
tones. 'If so, let him step forward.'

The engaged man of fifty stepped quavering out from the wall, his
betrothed beginning to sob on the back of the chair.

'You are a sworn constable?'

'I be, sir.'

'Then pursue the criminal at once, with assistance, and bring him back
here. He can't have gone far.'

'I will, sir, I will--when I've got my staff. I'll go home and get it,
and come sharp here, and start in a body.'

'Staff!--never mind your staff; the man'll be gone!'

'But I can't do nothing without my staff--can I, William, and John, and
Charles Jake? No; for there's the king's royal crown a painted on en in
yaller and gold, and the lion and the unicorn, so as when I raise en up
and hit my prisoner, 'tis made a law