tter, though she hoped that
they might escape.

The miller, on hearing of the fray, and that Ben had disappeared the
next morning, sat by himself more gloomy and silent than ever. Perhaps
he might have thought, "This comes of my teaching, or rather of my want
of teaching, of my bringing up." In the evening, three stout, strong,
comfortably clothed men came to the door: Mary let them in, not knowing
who they could be; Mark turned pale when he saw them.

"Your servant, Mister Page," said one. "Your son, Ben Page, is wanted--
he knows what for."

"My son, Ben Page, isn't at home," answered Mark, in a much more quiet
tone than he used to speak in.

"Where is he, then?" asked the man.

Mark could not tell, nor when he would return.

"You know then what he is wanted for, Mister Page?"

Mark bent his head, and put his fingers to his lips, that the man might
not speak before Mary. He then told her to go out of the room and look
after Sam Green, whom she had not visited for some time.

"Yes; it's about the matter at Snaresborough, with the keepers, I
suppose," said the miller. "But I don't know that he had anything to do
with it."

"Hope not, for his sake; he'll be sooner out of limbo," said the
constable. "But you'll excuse me, Mister Page, we must search the house
for your son; we have a couple of hands to look out outside, so he'll
not escape if he attempts it."

Of course Mark could offer no objection to this. The constable and his
companions searched the house from top to bottom, looking into and under
the beds, and into every cupboard and corner to be found. Then they
searched the mill and all the outhouses, but no Ben was to be found.
Mistress Page went nearly into fits when she saw them. Mary cried
bitterly, her worst fears were become real. When Sam Green saw them, a
look not often seen on his face came over it, as he lay on his bed of
pain--for his leg hurt him much.

"Ah! if the lad had been better taught he wouldn't have been in this
trouble," he said to himself. "I might have done him some good, and I
never did but harm."

These words showed that Sam Green was changing, if not changed. The
constables were still in the house, when a horse was heard coming along
the road. Mary, looking out, saw that it was Ben. She waved to him to
go back, but he did not see her. She tried to cry out, but her voice
failed her, and he had entered the court-yard and thrown himself from
his saddle before he