It was now some hours past midnight; the
weather being very raw and cold.  Coming
to the village of Keeke, they went boldly
and knocked up the landlord of the Red Lion
there, and his family, who came down and
made them a fire, and got them food.  They
told the landlord that they had had an
engagement with some officers, had lost
their tea, and were afraid that several of
their people were killed.  The body of Galley
they kept concealed in a brewhouse at the
back of the premises.  When they had
refreshed themselves, they went away; but
one of them shortly after came back to the
landlord and asked him if he could find out
a place hard-by where he had before
concealed some goods.  The landlord said he
remembered it, but he could not go with
them.  The smugglers insisted he should;
and they then took a candle, a lantern, and a
spade, and went away together, and joined
the rest.  Coming to the spot they were in
search of—a miry hollow, deep down among
briars and withered leaves—they began to dig
a hole, the landlord of the Red Lion working
with them.  His excuse afterwards was, that
"it being a very cold morning, he helped,
and did not think what it was for."  Into
this hole they hastily thrust the body of
Galley, all cut and bruised, and in his blood-
stained clothes—dead, as they thought him;
but a terrible evidence was afterwards found
that, even now, some life remained, for his
hands were discovered held up to his face, as
if to keep the dirt, as they shovelled it upon
him, out of his mouth and eyes.

Thus did poor Galley at length find release
from his barbarous enemies.  Terrible as was
his fate, however, it was milder and more
merciful in its speedy end, than that which
befel the shoemaker, who had bragged at the
White Hart so boldly of his deeds.  When
they had buried Galley, all the party, save
two, returned to the Red Lion, and there
sat eating, drinking, and smoking the whole
of the day.  The two that had not joined
them were sent in charge of Daniel Chater,
their remaining victim; who, being the informer,
and the chief cause of the betrayal of
the tea smugglers, they determined to submit
to even worse torture than his
companion had endured.  Mills, an old man, and
his companion, accordingly took Chater to a
place called a skilling, or turf house, belonging
to Mills, in a solitary place on the border
of a wood.  Here they fastened their prisoner
by a heavy iron chain, about three yards long;
where, all day long, the smoke of burning
peat curling under his eyes and nostrils, save
when a breath of w'ind came to his relief,
made him grievously sore, and almost choked
him.  On the Wednesday, being the third
night after the outrage at Rowland's Castle,
the whole gang met again at the Red Lion,
to consult what further cruelties to inflict on
Chater, who was still alive.  One of the
number said, "Let us load a gun, clap the
muzzle to his head, and we will tie a long
string to the trigger, when we will all of us
lay hold of it and pull it!"  But this was
rejected, "as it would put him out of his pain
too soon."  Finally, they came to the resolution
of carrying him up to Harris's, in Ladyholt
Park, there to treat him as they had
intended to treat Galley.

All this while Chater was suffering the
most horrible torture; being continually
visited by one or other of his enemies, who
swore at him and struck him cruel blows.
When at length the whole party came down
to the turf house, Tapner, one of them, pulled
out a huge clasp-knife, and dancing and
gesticulating like a madman, rushed at the
unhappy man, who was still chained, crying,
"Down on your knees to prayers!"  The poor
shoemaker accordingly knelt down slowly and
feebly on the turf, and began to pray; but,
while he was so engaged, one of their number
went behind him and kicked him, upbraiding
him for being "a preaching villain," and saying,
"We have done for Galley, and we will do
for you!"  Then Tapuer, without any provocation
from the poor man—who was indeed
now too weak and wretched even to complain
—rushed at him again, and drew his
knife across his nose, whereby he almost cut
both of his eyes out.  Still the wretched
creature only uttered a groan, and bent his
head; but Tapner, not yet satisfied, rushed
at him in another fit of frenzy, and struck
again, but this time a little higher, so that
the knife made a deep gash across his
forehead.

They then placed him on a horse, and
set out for Harris's Well, Tapner whipping
him all the way, till seeing that he was
bloody, he went up to him, and swore if the
blood should stain the saddle he would
destroy him instantly.  Thus, in the dead of
the night, they came up to the well in thei
park, which was between twenty and thirty
feet deep, and paled round to keep the cattle
from falling in.  Tapner then pulled a cord
out of his pocket and tied it with a noose
round the neck of their victim, and bade him
get over the pales to the well.  The poor
man, scarcely unwilling to obey, seeing an
opening occasioned by some decayed pales,
would have gone through this, but was
prevented by the others, who swore he
should get over, having all the while the
rope round his neck, and being extremely
weak.

As soon as he had got over the pales, Tapner
took one end of the rope and tied it round
the rail in the opening where the pales were
broken, there being no roller to the well,
which was dry and abandoned.  They then
pushed him into the well; but the length of
the rope would not suffer his body to hang
above knee-deep in it, so that the upper part
appeared above the low brick parapet, hanging
by the rope about the neck.  Here,
however, as his body leaned against the wall, the