ing manner and pallid cheeks, so thanking him for his
attention, I turned over and was soon asleep once more.

My next waking was a rougher and a sterner one. There came a sudden
rush of heavy feet up the ladder, and a dozen red-coats swarmed into the
room. Springing on to my feet I put out my hand for the sword which I
had laid all ready by my side, but the trusty weapon had gone. It had
been stolen whilst I slumbered. Unarmed and taken at a vantage, I was
struck down and pinioned in a moment. One held a pistol to my head, and
swore that he would blow my brains out if I stirred, while the others
wound a coil of rope round my body and arms, until Samson himself could
scarce have got free. Feeling that my struggles were of no possible
avail, I lay silent and waited for whatever was to come. Neither now nor
at any time, dear children, have I laid great store upon my life, but
far less then than now, for each of you are tiny tendrils which bind me
to this world. Yet, when I think of the other dear ones who are waiting
for me on the further shore, I do not think that even now death would
seem an evil thing in my eyes. What a hopeless and empty thing would
life be without it!

Having lashed my arms, the soldiers dragged me down the ladder, as
though I had been a truss of hay, into the room beneath, which was
also crowded with troopers. In one corner was the wretched scrivener,
a picture of abject terror, with chattering teeth and trembling knees,
only prevented from falling upon the floor by the grasp of a stalwart
corporal. In front of him stood two officers, one a little hard brown
man with dark twinkling eyes and an alert manner, the other tall and
slender, with a long golden moustache, which drooped down half-way to
his shoulders. The former had my sword in his hand, and they were both
examining the blade curiously.

'It is a good bit of steel, Dick,' said one, putting the point against
the stone floor, and pressing down until he touched it with the handle.
'See, with what a snap it rebounds! No maker's name, but the date 1638
is stamped upon the pommel. Where did you get it, fellow?' he asked,
fixing his keen gaze upon my face.

'It was my father's before me,' I answered.

'Then I trust that he drew it in a better quarrel than his son hath
done,' said the taller officer, with a sneer.

'In as good, though not in a better,' I returned. 'That sword hath
always been drawn for the rights and liberties of Englishmen, a