Owlett stood here, holding the top of the ladder.
'What, be you really one of us ?' said the miller.
'It seems so,' said Stockdale sadly.
'He's not,' said Lizzy, who overheard.

'He's neither for nor against us.
He'll do us no harm.' She stepped up beside them, and then they went on to the next stage, which, when they had clambered over the dusty bell-carriages, was of easy ascent, leading towards the hole through which the pale sky appeared, and into the open air.

Owlett remained behind for a moment, to pull up the lower ladder.
'Keep down your heads,' said a voice, as soon as they set foot on the flat.
Stockdale here beheld all the missing parishioners, lying on their stomachs on the tower roof, except a few who, elevated on their hands and knees, were peeping through the embrasures of the parapet.

Stockdale did the same, and saw the village lying like a map below him, over which moved the figures of the excisemen, each foreshortened to a crablike object, the crown of his hat forming a circular disc in the centre of him.

Some of the men had turned their heads when the young preacher's figure arose among them.
'What, Mr.Stockdale ?' said Matt Grey, in a tone of surprise.
'I'd as lief that it hadn't been,' said Jim Clarke.