Yet my satisfaction was greatly broken up when I heard, on the last day of January that all that I had feared was come about, and that of the three men whom I had seen condemned at the Old Bailey, two--Mr.Ireland and Mr.Grove--had been executed seven days before: (Mr.Pickering was kept back on some excuse, and not put to death until May).

The way I heard of it was in this manner.
I was in Puckeridge one day, on a matter which I do not now remember, and was going to the stable of the _White Hart_ inn to get my horse to ride back again, when I ran into Mr.Rumbald who was there on the same errand.

I was in my country suit, and very much splashed; and it was going on for evening, so he noticed nothing of me but my face.
"Why, Mallock," he cried--"It is Mr.Mallock, is it not ?" I told him yes.
He exchanged a few words with me, for he was one of those fellows who when they have once made up their minds to a thing, do not easily change it, and he was persuaded that I was of his kind and something of a daredevil too, which was what he liked.

Then at the end he said something which made me question him as to what he meant.
"Have you not heard ?" he cried.

"Why the Popish dogs were hanged a week ago--Ireland and Grove, I mean.