Several of the company sprang to their feet, and a general buzz of surprise and anger greeted the Duke’s words. He sat with bent brows, beating his foot against the ground, and turning over the papers upon the table.
‘What hath raised his hopes to such mad heights?’ he cried. ‘How doth he presume to send such a missive to one of my quality? Is it because he hath seen the backs of a parcel of rascally militiamen, and because he hath drawn a few hundred chawbacons from the plough’s tail to his standard, that he ventures to hold such language to the President of Wales? But ye will be my witnesses as to the spirit in which I received it?’
‘We can preserve your Grace from all danger of slander on that point,’ said an elderly officer, while a murmur of assent from the others greeted the remark.
‘And you!’ cried Beaufort, raising his voice and turning his flashing eyes upon me; ‘who are you that dare to bring such a message to Badminton? You had surely taken leave of your senses ere you did set out upon such an errand!’
‘I am in the hands of God here as elsewhere,’ I answered, with some flash of my father’s fatalism. ‘I have done what I promised to do, and the rest is no concern of mine.’
‘You shall find it a very close concern of thine,’ he shouted, springing from his chair and pacing up and down the room; ‘so close as to put an end to all thy other concerns in this life. Call in the halberdiers from the outer hall! Now, fellow, what have you to say for yourself?’
‘There is naught to be said,’ I answered.
‘But something to be done,’ he retorted in a fury. ‘Seize this man and secure his hands!’
Four halberdiers who had answered the summons closed in upon me and laid hands on me. Resistance would have been folly, for I had no wish to harm the men in the doing of their duty. I had come to take my chance, and if that chance should prove to be death, as seemed likely enough at present, it must be met as a thing foreseen. I thought of those old-time lines which Master Chillingfoot, of Petersfield, had ever held up to our admiration—
Non civium ardor prava jubentium
Non vultus instantis tyranni
Mente quatit solida.