“They’ll make you pay, as fur as your money will go,” pursued the Deputy, “for your relief as a Casual and for your being passed to your parish.”

“Thank ye kindly, Master, for your warning, thank ye for your shelter, and good night.”

“Stop a bit,” said the Deputy, striking in between her and the door. “Why are you all of a shake, and what’s your hurry, Missis?”

“Oh, Master, Master,” returned Betty Higden, “I’ve fought against the Parish and fled from it, all my life, and I want to die free of it!”