men.

"Silence," called out the magistrate. "We will finish the other affair
first," and he made a motion to hold Anthony for a moment.--"Now then, do
any of you men know this gentleman?"

A pursuivant stepped out.

"Mr. Frankland, sir; I know him under two names--Mr. Chapman and Mr.
Wode. He is a popish agent. I saw him in the company of Dr. Storey in
Antwerp, four months ago."

Mr. Stewart blew out his lips sharply and contemptuously.

"Pooh," he said; and then turned to the man and bowed ironically.

"I congratulate you, my man," he said, in a tone of bitter triumph. "In
April I was in France. Kindly remember this man's words, Mr. Frankland;
they will tell in my favour. For I presume you mean to take me."

"I will remember them," said the magistrate.

Mr. Stewart bowed to him; he had completely regained his composure. Then
he turned to Sir Nicholas and Lady Maxwell, who had been watching in a
bewildered silence.

"I am exceedingly sorry," he said, "for having brought this annoyance on
you, Lady Maxwell; but these men are so sharp that they see nothing but
guilt everywhere. I do not know yet what my crime is. But that can wait.
Sir Nicholas, we should have parted anyhow in half an hour. We shall only
say good-bye here, instead of at the door."

The magistrate smiled again as before; and half put up his hand to hide
it.

"I beg your pardon, Mr. Chapman; but you need not part from Sir Nicholas
yet. I fear, Sir Nicholas, that I shall have to trouble you to come with
us."

Lady Maxwell drew a quick hissing breath; her sister got up swiftly and
went to her, as she sat down in Sir Nicholas' chair, still holding the
old man's hand.

Sir Nicholas turned to his guest; and his voice broke again and again as
he spoke.

"Mr. Stewart," he said, "I am sorry that any guest of mine should be
subject to these insults. However, I am glad that I shall have the
pleasure of your company after all. I suppose we ride to East Grinsted,"
he added harshly to the magistrate, who bowed to him.--"Then may I have
my servant, sir?"

"Presently," said Mr. Frankland, and then turned to Anthony, who had been
staring wild-eyed at the scene, "Now who is this?"

A man answered from the rank.

"That is Master Anthony Norris, sir."

"Ah! and who is Master Anthony Norris? A Papist, too?"

"No, sir," said the man again, "a good Protestant; and the son of Mr.
Norris at the Dower House."

"Ah!" said the magistrate again, judicially.