When George, that dismal eve, at home arrived

When George, that dismal eve, at home arrived, With much emotion he sat down and cried; But, having always on his God relied, He thank’d th’ Almighty that the hand was stay’d, Which at one moment threaten’d to have laid Him low. Gray then observ’d a something, which Made her unhappy, so with anxious speech Besought her Master, thus: “Sir, pray thee—why Art thou so sad?” George wiped his tearful eye And answered her:—“Ah! Gray, I’m back again, But coming homeward four unholy men Molested me and took my cash, and more— The rogues decamp’d with all our weekly store.” Those words had scarce escaped poor George’s lips When he was struck with the advancing steps As of a horse (’twas now just nine o’clock) And then obedient to a hurried knock The door was open’d, and a voice enquired If master Hollybrand had yet retired To rest. “Oh! no, Sir,” Gray replied, “he’s not.” “Will you be kind enough to say that Scott,” * * * George knew the voice and hasten’d to receive The man of order, vengeance, or reprieve: He said. Now finding that the men were ta’en, George felt reliev’d from an oppressive strain; And on the following morning, by command, He went to prosecute th’ inhuman band,— He strode his pony at the hour of nine, To be in attendance at th’ appointed time. When near the place where they attack’d him, there George saw the fragments of some earthenware,— A portion of his stores,—which in their haste The robbers had incautiously laid waste: As may be well conceived—just at this spot, George ponder’d sadly o’er the direful plot, But yet rejoiced to think what had befell The treacherous vagabonds at Ruttendell. So he proceeded, and, when he had gain’d The Justice’ Court, beheld all four arraign’d; Who, when they saw the prosecutor there, Hung down their heads in deep and sad despair: No doubt their hearts were wrung, and well they might When they observ’d their unpropitious plight,— Especially he who beckon’d on the rest, And held the pistol straight to George’s breast: The one who had received a sabre-cut Sat moaning piteously with eyes half shut,— For on his thigh the cutlass made a gash, And struck the bone beneath an inch of flesh: In years of youth the others seem’d to be, Who had forsook the path of honesty— Intent on mischief and misrule, but now Remorse and horror sat upon their brow. God grant them mercy! but the law decreed That England of such demons should be freed; And so in time all four were sent away To end their lifetime in old “Bot’ny Bay,”— The merited reward of infamy.

Chief of the constabulary force at Ruttendell.

The market town, before alluded to.