distance to express, for she immediately broke down, and began to adjust plaits in the hem of her pinners with extreme nicety.
Sir Marmaduke, marking her confusion, suspected it must be the old business after all.
"Take a seat, my dear," repeated he paternally. "Don't ye be frightened; nobody will hear ye here. Take your own time, and tell your own story."
Thus adjured, Alice still close to the door, looked anxiously round, and whispered—
"Oh! Sir Marmaduke, are you quite sure nobody can hear us?"
The justice smiled, and pulled his wig straight. It was evident she had something very secret to confide. He was glad she had come to him at once, and what a pretty girl she was! Of course, he would stand her friend. He told her so.
"Oh! Sir Marmaduke," said Alice, "it's something dreadful. It's something I've found out. I know I shall get killed by some of them! It's a plot, Sir Marmaduke! That's what it is. There!"
The justice started. His brow clouded, and his very wig seemed to come awry. He was a stout-hearted gentleman enough, and feared danger certainly less than trouble. But a plot! Ever since he could remember in his own and his father's time, the word had been synonymous with arrests, imprisonments, authorised oppression, packed juries, commissions of inquiry, false witness, hard swearing, and endless trouble to justices of the peace.
It was, perhaps, the one thing of all others that he most dreaded, so his first impulse was, of course, to ignore the whole matter.
"Plot! My dear. Pooh! Nonsense! What do you know of plots, except a plot to get married, you little jade? Hey? Plot! There's no such thing in these days. We smothered the whole brood, eggs and all, in Fifteen. We'll give you a drop of burnt sherry, and send you home behind Ralph on a pillion. Don't ye trouble your pretty head about plots, my dear. If you'd seen as many as I have, you'd never wish for another."
Alice thought of Slap-Jack, and collected her ideas.
