Quiet enough, in general, is the quaint old town of Lamborough. Why
all this bustle to-day? Along the hedge-bound roads which lead to it,
carts, chaises, vehicles of every description are jogging along filled
with countrymen; and here and there the scarlet cloak or straw bonnet
of some female occupying a chair, placed somewhat unsteadily behind
them, contrasts gaily with the dark coats, or gray smock-frocks of the
front row; from every cottage of the suburb, some individuals join the
stream, which rolls on increasing through the streets till it reaches
the castle. The ancient moat teems with idlers, and the hill opposite,
usually the quiet domain of a score or two of peaceful sheep, partakes
of the surrounding agitation.
The voice of the multitude which surrounds the court-house, sounds
like the murmur of the sea, till suddenly it is raised to a sort
of shout. John West, the terror of the surrounding country, the
sheep-stealer and burglar, had been found guilty.
"What is the sentence?" is asked by a hundred voices.