The mob had now finished their search, and could find nothing about the captive likely to prove any evidence; for as to the cloaths, though the mob were very well satisfied with that proof, yet, as the surgeon observed, they could not convict him, because they were not found in his custody; to which Barnabas agreed, and added that these were bona waviata, and belonged to the lord of the manor.

“How,” says the surgeon, “do you say these goods belong to the lord of the manor?”—“I do,” cried Barnabas.—“Then I deny it,” says the surgeon: “what can the lord of the manor have to do in the case? Will any one attempt to persuade me that what a man finds is not his own?”—“I have heard,” says an old fellow in the corner, “justice Wise-one say, that, if every man had his right, whatever is found belongs to the king of London.”—“That may be true,” says Barnabas, “in some sense; for the law makes a difference between things stolen and things found; for a thing may be stolen that never is found, and a thing may be found that never was stolen: Now, goods that are both stolen and found are waviata; and they belong to the lord of the manor.”—“So the lord of the manor is the receiver of stolen goods,” says the doctor; at which there was an universal laugh, being first begun by himself.

While the prisoner, by persisting in his innocence, had almost (as there was no evidence against him) brought over Barnabas, the surgeon, Tow-wouse, and several others to his side, Betty informed them that they had overlooked a little piece of gold, which she had carried up to the man in bed, and which he offered to swear to amongst a million, aye, amongst ten thousand. This immediately turned the scale against the prisoner, and every one now concluded him guilty. It was resolved, therefore, to keep him secured that night, and early in the morning to carry him before a justice.