high seats where three men were sitting. In the middle was Judge
Jeffreys, a big, strong man with angry eyes.
'Who are you?' asked the judge.
'My name's John Ridd,' I answered. 'I was called to London
two months ago by Jeremy Stickles. I've waited here, and nothing
has happened, and now I want to go home. I have no more
money.'
'Haven't you been paid for the journey and for your costs in
the city?' Judge Jeffreys asked.
'No, sir.'
He called his officer. 'Pay this man immediately. He can come
back to me tomorrow.'
The next day I returned to the court, and the judge
questioned me.
'You're a big man, John,' he said. 'I have some questions for
you. In your part of the country, are there thieves who do a lot of
harm to people?'
'Yes, sir.'
'Why doesn't Lord Wichehalse hang them all? That's what he
should do. He's the judge in that part of the country. Or he could
send the robbers to me and I'll hang them,' said Judge Jeffreys.
'These robbers are from a very good family. They're
dangerous, violent men and their home in the hills is very well
protected. I think Lord Wichehalse is afraid,' I answered.
'What's the name of these people?'
'They're the Doones of Bagworthy forest, sir. We think
there are about forty of them, but that doesn't include the
women and children.'
'Forty Doones!' cried the judge. 'Forty thieves! How long
have they been there?'
'About thirty or forty years, sir,' I answered.
'Did you know that Lord Wichehalse was a friend of the
Doones?' said the judge, fixing his eyes on me.