entered a gloomy lane or alley. Here he was abruptly accosted by a man
wrapped in a shaggy great-coat, of somewhat a suspicious appearance.

"Aha, Captain!" said he, "you are beyond your time, but all 's well!"

Attempting, with indifferent success, the easy self-possession which
generally marked his address to his companions, Clifford, repeating the
stranger's words, replied,--

"All's well! What! are the prisoners released?"

"No, faith!" answered the man, with a rough laugh, "not yet; but all in
good time. It is a little too much to expect the justices to do our
work, though, by the Lord Harry, we often do theirs!"

"What then?" asked Clifford, impatiently.

"Why, the poor fellows had been carried to the town of -----, and brought
before the queer cuffin (Magistrate) ere I arrived, though I set off the
moment you told me, and did the journey in four hours. The examination
lasted all yesterday, and they were remanded till to-day,--let's see, it
is not yet noon; we may be there before it's over."

"And this is what you call well!" said Clifford, angrily. "No, Captain,
don't be glimflashy! You have not heard all yet! It seems that the only
thing buffed hard against them was by a stout grazier, who was cried
'Stand!' to, some fifty miles off the town; so the queer coffin thinks of
sending the poor fellows to the jail of the county where they did the
business!"