"But we darrna oppen owr mows fo' fear o' a gog." "Naw, beleady! boh eyst oppen moine woide enuff," cried Ashbead; "an' if a dozen o' yo chaps win join me, eyn try to set t' poor abbut free whon they brinks him here." "Ey'd as leef boide till to-morrow," said Ruchot o'Roaph's, uneasily.
"Eigh, thou'rt a timmersome teyke, os ey towd te efore," replied Ashbead.

"But whot dust theaw say, Hal o' Nabs ?" he added, to the sturdy hind who had recently spoken.
"Ey'n spill t' last drop o' meh blood i' t' owd abbut's keawse," replied Hal o' Nabs.

"We winna stond by, an see him hongt loike a dog.

Abbut Paslew to t' reskew, lads!" "Eigh, Abbut Paslew to t' reskew!" responded all the others, except Ruchot o' Roaph's.
"This must be prevented," muttered a voice near them.

And immediately afterwards a tall man quitted the group.
"Whoa wor it spoake ?" cried Hal o' Nabs.