Unmindful of the nipping air, the ladies flew to the windows and raised them, while the gentlemen, in a body, rushed out upon the porch, many to the lawn—­the scene of the disturbance.

“They have caught him!”

“There are several of them—­a gang of thieves, no doubt!”

“No!  I see but one!  They are bringing him to the house!” were morsels of information passed over the shoulders of the foremost rank of inquisitive fair ones to the rear, but none were able to answer the returning inquiries.

“Who is it?”

“What does he look like like?”

“Does he offer any resistance?”

“Do you suppose he is a burglar, or only a common vagrant?”

“I thought the Ridgeley grounds were never infested by prowling beggars, or other vagabonds,” said a lady to Mrs. Aylett, who prudently remained near the fire, even then shivering with the cold, and casting uneasy looks at the windows.

“Mr. Aylett is a model to his brother magistrates in his treatment of such nuisances,” remarked another “His name is a terror to strollers, whether they be organ-grinders, pedlers, or incendiaries.”

Mrs. Aylett, excessively pale, applied her vinaigrette to her nose, and trembled yet more violently.

“I believe he is very strict,” she assented.  “But I am really afraid those ladies will take cold!  The snow-air is piercing.  And they are—­most of them—­heated with dancing.  Cannot we prevail upon them to close the windows, now that the mysterious prowler is secured?  We shall hear all about him when the gentlemen return, and they will not stay out of doors longer than is necessary.”

They began to pour back into the room, while she was speaking, laughing, and talking, all together shaking the snow-powder from their hair and hands, and anathematizing the cold and their thin boots.  The particulars of the midnight disturbance were quickly disseminated.  The ebon sentinels had, directed by the barking of their canine associates, discovered, under a holly hedge on one side of the yard, a man lying upon the earth, and almost buried in the snow he seemed not to have strength to throw off.  He was either drunk or so nearly frozen as to be incapable of answering coherently their demands as to what was his name and what his business upon the premises.  The interrogations of the gentlemen and the ungentle shakings administered by his captors elicited nothing but groans and muttered oaths.  He could not, or would not, walk without support, and to leave him where he was, or to turn him adrift into the public road, would be certain death.  Therefore Mr. Aylett had ordered him to be confined for the night in a garret room.  In the morning he might be examined to more purpose.

“But he ought to have a fire, and something hot and nourishing to drink!” exclaimed Mrs. Button, upon hearing the story.  “He will freeze in that barn of a place—­poor wretch!”