ort memory of his dinners. Tell him to change
his name, turn parson, or do something else, to make it wrong to hang
him. Parson is the best thing, he hath such command of features, and he
might take his tithes on horseback. Now a few more things, John Ridd;
and for the present I have done with thee.'

All my heart leaped up at this, to get away from London so: and yet I
could hardly trust to it.

'Is there any sound round your way of disaffection to His Majesty, His
most gracious Majesty?'

'No, my lord: no sign whatever. We pray for him in church perhaps,
and we talk about him afterwards, hoping it may do him good, as it is
intended. But after that we have naught to say, not knowing much about
him--at least till I get home again.'

'That is as it should be, John. And the less you say the better. But I
have heard of things in Taunton, and even nearer to you in Dulverton,
and even nigher still upon Exmoor; things which are of the pillory
kind, and even more of the gallows. I see that you know naught of them.
Nevertheless, it will not be long before all England hears of them. Now,
John, I have taken a liking to thee, for never man told me the truth,
without fear or favour, more thoroughly and truly than thou hast done.
Keep thou clear of this, my son. It will come to nothing; yet many shall
swing high for it. Even I could not save thee, John Ridd, if thou wert
mixed in this affair. Keep from the Doones, keep from De Whichehalse,
keep from everything which leads beyond the sight of thy knowledge. I
meant to use thee as my tool; but I see thou art too honest and simple.
I will send a sharper down; but never let me find thee, John, either a
tool for the other side, or a tube for my words to pass through.'

Here the Lord Justice gave me such a glare that I wished myself well
rid of him, though thankful for his warnings; and seeing how he had
made upon me a long abiding mark of fear, he smiled again in a jocular
manner, and said,--

'Now, get thee gone, Jack. I shall remember thee; and I trow, thou
wilt'st not for many a day forget me.'

'My lord, I was never so glad to go; for the hay must be in, and the
ricks unthatched, and none of them can make spars like me, and two men
to twist every hay-rope, and mother thinking it all right, and listening
right and left to lies, and cheated at every pig she kills, and even the
skins of the sheep to go--'

'John Ridd, I thought none could come nigh your folk in honesty, and
go