“ ‘Hope to God,’ says I to myzell, ‘poor Tom wun’t coom here today: arl up with her, if ’a doeth: and who be there to suckzade ’un?’ Mark me now, all these charps was good to shutt ’un, as her coom crass the watter; the watter be waide enow there and stony, but no deeper than my knee-place.
“ ‘Thee cas’n goo no vurder,’ Bill Blacksmith saith to me: ‘nawbody ’lowed to crass the vord, until such time as Faggus coom; plaise God us may mak sure of ’un.’
“ ‘Amen, zo be it,’ says I; ‘God knoweth I be never in any hurry, and would zooner stop nor goo on most taimes.’
“Wi’ that I pulled my vittles out, and zat a horsebarck, atin’ of ’em, and oncommon good they was. ‘Won’t us have ’un this taime just,’ saith Tim Potter, as keepeth the bull there; ‘and yet I be zorry for ’un. But a man must kape the law, her must; zo be her can only learn it. And now poor Tom will swing as high as the tops of they girt hashes there.’
“ ‘Just thee kitch ’un virst,’ says I; ‘maisure rope, wi’ the body to maisure by.’
“ ‘Hurrah! here be another now,’ saith Bill Blacksmith, grinning; ‘another coom to help us. What a grave gentleman! A warship of the pace, at laste!’
“For a gentleman, on a cue-ball horse, was coming slowly down the hill on tother zide of watter, looking at us in a friendly way, and with a long papper standing forth the lining of his coat laike. Horse stapped to drink in the watter, and gentleman spak to ’un kindly, and then they coom raight on to ussen, and the gentleman’s face wor so long and so grave, us veared ’a wor gooin’ to prache to us.
“ ‘Coort o’ King’s Bench,’ saith one man; ‘Checker and Plays,’ saith another; ‘Spishal Commission, I doubt,’ saith Bill Blacksmith; ‘backed by the Mayor of Taunton.’
“ ‘Any Justice of the King’s Peace, good people, to be found near here?’ said the gentleman, lifting his hat to us, and very gracious in his manner.
“ ‘Your honour,’ saith Bill, with his hat off his head; ‘there be sax or zeven warships here: arl on ’em very wise ’uns. Squaire Maunder there be the zinnyer.’
“So the gentleman rode up to Squire Maunder, and raised his cocked hat in a manner that took the Squire out of countenance, for he could not do the like of it.
“ ‘Sir,’ said he, ‘good and worshipful sir, I am here to claim your good advice and valour; for purposes of justice. I hold His Majesty’s commission, to make to cease a notorious rogue, whose name is Thomas Faggus.’ With that he offered his commission; but Squire Maunder told the truth, that he could not rade even words in print, much less written karakters.4 Then the other magistrates rode up, and put their heads together, how to meet the London gentleman without loss of importance. There wor one of ’em as could rade purty vair, and her made out King’s mark upon it: and he bowed upon his horse to the gentleman, and he laid his hand on his heart and said, ‘Worshipful sir, we, as has the honour of His Gracious Majesty’s commission, are entirely at your service, and crave instructions from you.’ ”
“Then a waving of hats began, and a bowing, and making of legs to wan anather, sich as nayver wor zeed afore; but none of ’em arl, for air and brading, cud coom anaigh the gentleman with the long grave face.
“ ‘Your warships have posted the men right well,’ saith he with anather bow all round; ‘surely that big rogue will have no chance left among so many valiant musketeers. Ha! what see I there, my friend? Rust in the pan of your gun! That gun would never go off, sure as I am the King’s Commissioner. And I see another just as bad; and lo, there the third! Pardon me, gentlemen, I have been so used to His Majesty’s Ordnance-yards. But I fear that bold rogue would ride through all of you, and laugh at your worship’s beards, by George.’
“ ‘But what shall us do?’ Squire Maunder axed; ‘I vear there be no oil here.’
“ ‘Discharge your pieces, gentlemen, and let the men do the same; or at least let us try to discharge them, and load again with fresh powder. It is the fog of the morning hath spoiled the priming. That rogue is not in sight yet: but God knows we must not be asleep with him, or what will His Majesty say to me, if we let him slip once more?’
“ ‘Excellent, wondrous well said, good sir,’ Squire Maunder answered him; ‘I never should have thought of that now. Bill Blacksmith, tell all the men to be ready to shoot up into the air, directly I give the word. Now, are you ready there, Bill?’
“ ‘All ready, your worship,’ saith Bill, saluting like a soldier.
“ ‘Then, one, two, dree, and shutt!’ cries Squire Maunder, standing up in the irons of his stirrups.
“Thereupon they all blazed out, and the noise of it went all round the hills; with a girt thick cloud arising, and all the air smelling of powder. Before the cloud was gone so much as ten yards on the wind, the gentleman on the cue-bald horse shuts up his face like a pair of nut-cracks, as wide as it was long before, and out he pulls two girt pistols longside of zaddle, and clap’th one to Squire Maunder’s head, and tother to Sir Richard Blewitt’s.
“ ‘Hand forth your money and 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
