"I have but a guinea to carry me home," sighed out Hayes.

"But you have twenty at home, John," said his wife. "Give these
brave gentlemen a writing to your mother, and she will pay; and you
will let us free then, gentlemen--won't you?"

"When the money's paid, yes," said the leader, Mr. Brock.

"Oh, in course," echoed the tall man with the halberd. "What's a
thrifling detintion, my dear?" continued he, addressing Hayes.
"We'll amuse you in your absence, and drink to the health of your
pretty wife here."

This promise, to do the halberdier justice, he fulfilled. He called
upon the landlady to produce the desired liquor; and when Mr. Hayes
flung himself at that lady's feet, demanding succour from her, and
asking whether there was no law in the land--

"There's no law at the 'Three Rooks' except THIS!" said Mr. Brock in
reply, holding up a horse-pistol. To which the hostess, grinning,
assented, and silently went her way.

After some further solicitations, John Hayes drew out the necessary
letter to his father, stating that he was pressed, and would not be
set free under a sum of twenty guineas; and that it would be of no
use to detain the bearer of the letter, inasmuch as the gentlemen
who had possession of him vowed that they would murder him should
any harm befall their comrade. As a further proof of the
authenticity of the letter, a token was added: a ring that Hayes