d all your warrants," he saith like a clap of
thunder; "gentlemen, have you now the wit to apprehend Tom Faggus?"

'Squire Maunder swore so that he ought to be fined; but he pulled out
his purse none the slower for that, and so did Sir Richard Blewitt.

'"First man I see go to load a gun, I'll gi'e 'un the bullet to do it
with," said Tom; for you see it was him and no other, looking quietly
round upon all of them. Then he robbed all the rest of their warships,
as pleasant as might be; and he saith, "Now, gentlemen, do your duty:
serve your warrants afore you imprison me;" with that he made them give
up all the warrants, and he stuck them in the band of his hat, and then
he made a bow with it.

'"Good morning to your warships now, and a merry Christmas all of
you! And the merrier both for rich and poor, when gentlemen see their
almsgiving. Lest you deny yourselves the pleasure, I will aid your
warships. And to save you the trouble of following me, when your guns be
loaded--this is my strawberry mare, gentlemen, only with a little cream
on her. Gentlemen all, in the name of the King, I thank you."

'All this while he was casting their money among the poor folk by the
handful; and then he spak kaindly to the red mare, and wor over the back
of the hill in two zeconds, and best part of two maile away, I reckon,
afore ever a gun wor loaded.'*

* The truth of this story is well established by first-rate
tradition.

CHAPTER XL

TWO FOOLS TOGETHER

That story of John Fry's, instead of causing any amusement, gave us
great disquietude; not only because it showed that Tom Faggus could not
resist sudden temptation and the delight of wildness, but also that we
greatly feared lest the King's pardon might be annulled, and all his
kindness cancelled, by a reckless deed of that sort. It was true (as
Annie insisted continually, even with tears, to wear in her arguments)
that Tom had not brought away anything, except the warrants, which were
of no use at all, after receipt of the pardon; neither had he used any
violence, except just to frighten people; but could it be established,
even towards Christmas-time, that Tom had a right to give alms, right
and left, out of other people's money?

Dear Annie appeared to believe that it could; saying that if the rich
continually chose to forget the poor, a man who forced them to remember,
and so to do good to themselves and to others, was a public benefactor,
and entitled to