He shook in every limb, and very nearly fell from his high seat.
His confusion was evident to Colonel Blood, who laughing said,
“And so you are the servant of Ned Warbeck, eh? If the master is only like the servant, now. Here, guard,” said he, “seize this man; he is a murderer; seize him, I say, in the king’s name.”
“In the king’s name, hold off your hands,” said Ned Warbeck, in a passion, as he and Garnet now advanced into the moonlight.
The soldiers knew not what to do.
“Who are you, sir, that dares interfere in this serious matter? This fellow is a murderer, or, at least, suspected of being such.”
“He is no murderer, sir,” said Ned Warbeck, “and, if he was, I have the king’s pardon. Read,” said he, placing the royal warrant under the astonished colonel’s eyes.
“Your name, sir?” asked Blood, sternly.
“You have no right to demand it,” said Ned, proudly.
“But, suppose I insist upon knowing it, and that of your friend?”