id. "Now hie thee quick,
and get out of reach thyself Cis, go up and fetch a warm wrap for Baby,
and all her clothes; I'll take her next door. I reckon Will must tarry
there too. It'd be better for thee, Cis: but I'll not compel thee, if
thy little heart's set on going with me. Thoul't have to rough it,
little maid."

"I'll not stop nowhere!" was Cissy's determination.

Robert bade them good-bye with a smile, closed the door, and set off
down the lane as fast as the darkness made it prudent. He did not think
it wise to go through the village, so he made a _detour_ by some fields,
and came into the road again on the other side of Thorpe. He had not
gone many yards, when he became aware that a number of lights were
approaching, accompanied by a noise of voices. Robert turned straight
round. If he could get back to the stile which led into the fields, he
would be safer: and if not, still it would be better to be overtaken
than to meet a possible enemy face to face. He would be less likely to
be noticed in the former case than in the latter--at least so he
thought.

There must be a good number of people coming behind him, judging from
the voices. At length they came up with him.

"Pray you, young man, how far be we from Thorpe?"

"You are very nigh, straight on," was Robert's answer.

"Do you belong there?"

"No, I'm nigh a stranger to these parts: I'm from the eastern side of
the county. I can't tell you much about folks, if that be your
meaning."

"And what do you here, if you be a stranger?"

"I've a job o' work at Saint Osyth, at this present."

"What manner of work?"

"I'm a fuller by trade."

Robert had already recognised that he was talking to the Bailiff's
searching party. Every minute that he could keep them was a minute more
for Johnson and the little ones.

"Know you a man named Johnson?"

"What, here?"

"Ay, at Thorpe."

Robert pretended to consider. "Well, let's see--there's Will Johnson
the miller, and Luke Johnson the weaver, and--eh, there's ever so many
Johnsons! I couldn't say to one or another, without I knew more."

"John Johnson; he's a labouring man."

"Well, there is Johnsons that lives up by the wood, but I'm none so sure
of the man's name. I think it's Andrew, but I'll not say, certain. It
may be John; I couldn't speak, not to be sure."

"Let him be, Gregory; he knows nought," said the Bailiff.

Robert touched his cap, and fell behind. The Bailiff suddenly