So important did the crisis appear to him, that he insisted on Parkin going with him at once to Cairnhope, to reconnoiter the ground.
Parkin had a gig and a fast horse: so, in ten minutes more, they were on the road.
They reached Cairnhope, put up at the village inn, and soon extracted some particulars about the church. They went up to it, and examined it, and Grotait gave Parkin a leg up, to peer through the window.
In this position they were nailed by old George.
"What be you at?"
"What is that to you?" said Grotait.
"It is plenty. You mustn't come trespassing here. Squire won't have it."
"Trespassing in a churchyard! Why it belongs to all the world."
"Nay, this one belongs to the Lord o' the manor."
"Well, we won't hurt your church. Who keeps the key?"
"Squire Raby."
Old George from this moment followed them about everywhere, grumbling at their heels, like a mastiff.
Grotait, however, treated him with cool contempt, and proceeded to make a sketch of the door, and a little map showing how the church could be approached from Hillsborough on foot without passing through Cairnhope village. This done, he went back with Parkin to the inn, and thence to Hillsborough.
It was old Christmas Eve. Henry was working at his forge, little dreaming of danger. Yet it was close at hand, and from two distinct quarters.
Four men, with crape masks, and provided with all manner of tools, and armed with bludgeons, were creeping about the churchyard, examining and listening. Their orders were to make Little so that he should not leave Cairnhope for a month. And that, in plain English, meant to beat him within an inch of his life, if not kill him.
At the same time, a body of nine men were stealing up the road, with designs scarcely less hostile to Little.
These assailants were as yet at a considerable distance, but more formidable in appearance than the others being most of them armed with swords, and led by a man with a double-barreled gun.
Grotait's men, having well surveyed the ground, now crept softly up to the porch, and examined the lock.
The key was inside, and they saw no means of forcing the lock without making a noise, and putting their victim on his guard.
After a long whispered consultation, they resolved to unscrew the hinges.
These hinges were of great length, and were nailed upon the door, but screwed into the door-post with four screws each.
Two men, with excellent tools, and masters of the business, went softly to work. One stood, and worked on the upper screws; the other kneeled, and unfastened the lower screws.
They made no more noise than a rat gnawing; yet, such was their caution, and determination to surprise their victim, that they timed all their work by Little's. Whenever the blows of his hammer intermitted, they left off; and began again when he did.
When all the screws were out but two, one above, one below, they beckoned the other two men, and these two drove large gimlets into the door, and so held it that it might not fall forward when the last screw should come out.
"Are all screws out?" whispered Cole, who was the leader.
"Ay," was the whispered reply.
"Then put in two more gimlets."
That was done.
"Now, men," whispered Cole. "Lay the door softly down outside: then, up sticks--into church--and DO HIM!"
