of it, the Inspector, lifting his
head above the broken flooring to shout for help, broke into furious
profanity; for there, in the empty court-room, stood young Trudgian
and his wife, covered, indeed, with white dust, but blissfully wrapt
in their own marvellous escape; and young Trudgian for the moment was
wholly preoccupied in probing with two fingers for a piece of plaster
which had somehow found its way down his Selina's back between the
nape of the neck and the bodice.

"Drop it, you fool, and lend a hand!" objurgated the Inspector;
whereupon Mrs. Trudgian turned about, bridling.

"You leave my Tom alone, please! A man's first call is on his wedded
wife, I reckon."

The rescued magistrates were lifted out, carried forth into fresh
air, and laid on the turf by the wayside to recover somewhat while
the rescuers again wiped perspiring brows.

"A thimbleful o' brandy might do the Admiral good," suggested the
prisoner.

"Brandy?" cried Lord Rattley. "The air reeks of brandy!
Where the--?"

"The basement's swimmin' with it, m' lord." The fellow touched his
hat. "Two casks stove by the edge o' the table. I felt around the
staves, an' counted six others, hale an' tight. Thinks I, 'tis what
their Worships will have been keepin' for private use, between
whiles. Or elst--"

"Or else?"

"Or else maybe we've tapped a private cellar."

Lord Rattley slapped his thigh.

"A _cache_, by Jove! Old Squire Nicholas--I remember, as a boy,
hearing it whispered he was hand-in-glove with the Free Trade."

The prisoner touched his hat humbly.

"This bein' a magistrates' matter, m' lord, an' me not wishin' to
interfere--"

"Quite so." Lord Rattley felt in his pockets. "You have done us a
considerable service, my man, and--er--that bein' so--"

"Forty shillin' it was. _He's_ cheap at it"--with a nod towards the
Admiral. "A real true-blue old English gentleman! You can always
tell by their conversations."

"The fine shall be paid."

"I counted six casks, m'lord, so well as I could by the feel--"

"Yes, yes! And here's a couple of sovereigns for yourself--all I
happen to have in my pocket--"

Lord Rattley bustled off to the house for brandy.

"England's old England, hows'ever you strike it!" chirruped the
prisoner gleefully, and touched his forehead again. "See you at the
Show, m' lord, maybe? 'Will drink your lordship's health there,
anyway."

He skipped away up the road towards Tregarrick. In the