legal warrant--"

"To search for, take, and apprehend," said the voice of that abominable
pettifogger, "the bodies of certain persons in my warrant named, charged
of high treason under the 13th of King William, chapter third."

The violence on the door was renewed.

"I am rising, gentlemen," said Frank, trying to gain as much time as
possible; "commit no violence--give me leave to look at your warrant,
and if it is formal and legal, I shall not oppose it."

"God save great George our King," cried Andrew Fairservice, "I telled ye
that ye would find no Jacobites here!"

At last the door had to be opened, when Clerk Jobson and several
assistants entered. The lawyer showed a warrant for the arrest of Diana
Vernon, her father,--and, to his surprise, of Frank himself.

Clerk Jobson, evidently well-informed, went directly to Diana's chamber.

"The hare has stolen away," he said brutally, "but her form is still
warm. The greyhounds will have her by the haunches yet."

A scream from the garden announced that he had prophesied too truly. In
five minutes more Rashleigh entered the library with Diana and her
father, Sir Frederick, as his prisoners.

"The fox," he said, "knew his old earth, but he forgot it could be
stopped by a careful huntsman. I had not forgot the garden gate, Sir
Frederick--or, if the title suits you better, my most noble Lord
Beauchamp!"

"Rashleigh," said Sir Frederick, "thou art a most detestable villain!"

"I better deserved the name, my Lord," said Rashleigh, turning his eyes
piously upward, "when under an able tutor I sought to introduce civil
war into a peaceful country. But I have since done my best to atone for
my errors."

Frank Osbaldistone could hold out no longer.

"If there is one thing on earth more hideous than another," he cried,
"it is villainy masked by hypocrisy!"

"Ha, my gentle cousin," said Rashleigh, holding a candle toward Frank
and surveying him from head to foot, "right welcome to Osbaldistone
Hall. I can forgive your spleen. It is hard to lose an estate and a
sweetheart in one night. For now we must take possession of this poor
manor-house in the name of the lawful heir, Sir Rashleigh Osbaldistone!"

But though Rashleigh braved it out thus, he was clearly far from
comfortable, and especially did he wince when Diana told him that what
he had now done had been the work of an hour, but that it would furnish
him with reflections for a lifetime.

"And of what nature thes