lagging back," said the captain. "I know quite enough about you to send you to the gibbet."
"May I ask what?" replied the sexton, puffing away at his pipe.
"I've been having a look at that coffin shop of yours, and I've seen enough there to get you a free rope from the government; so come along and make the best of a bad job."
Mipps pulled desperately at his short clay pipe and sent over his lap a heavy cloud of tobacco smoke. Under cover of this his fingers were stealing toward the trigger of the blunderbuss. He was calculating his chances, for there were three pistols pointing at him from the King's men. If he was shot, he meant to take the captain with him.
"There's one chance of saving your dirty carcass," went on the captain, not noticing those crafty fingers moving.
"What's that?" said the sexton behind the blue curtain of tobacco smoke.
"There's one man I'd a deal sooner hang than you, and that's Clegg. Tell me where Doctor Syn is and I'll give you twenty-four hours to make yourself scarce."
"Thank you kindly," went on the sexton, "but I ain't no wish to make myself scarce. I'm quite happy where I am, and if you've a fancy to make yourself scarce, I'll be happier still."
Just then there was a noise below of singing, and
