“On what compulsion?”
“Force, the right that rules the world.”
“And what pretext for using it?” said Ralph, drawing his sword.
“I should advise thee not to touch thy weapon, unless thy skill is proof against an arrow. In a word, Ralph of Herstmonceux, art thou for the king or the barons?”
“Thou knowest—the barons.”
“And I for the king; no more need be said. Yield to ransom.”
“I will not give my sword to thee,” and Ralph flung it into a pond.
“And what right hast thou to arrest me?” said the mayor.
“Good mayor, hast thou not stirred up thy town of Hamelsham, thy puissant butchers and bakers, to resist the good king and to send aid to the rebellious Earl of Leicester, may the fiends rive him! Wherefore I might, without further parley, hang thee to this beech, which never bore a worthier acorn.”
“Yes, hang him for the general amusement,” said several deep voices.