"Yes," she said softly. And Cecil relinquished her hand. This, he considered, was worse than being arrested.
"I thought I did," went on the magistrate. "I don't often forget a face, and I'm sorry to see you in such bad company."
The young girl began to show signs of breaking down, and the situation was fast becoming acute, when the unexpected tones of an unctuous voice suddenly diverted everybody's attention.
"Why is thee so violent, friend?" said some one behind them. And turning quickly, they perceived the sleek, clean-shaven, well-groomed figure of a Quaker, dressed in a shad-bellied brown coat, a low black silk hat with a curved brim, and square shoes.
"Who the devil—!" began the officer.
"Fie! fie!" said the stranger. "Abstain from cursings and revilings in thy speech. But I am glad thee hast come, for verily I feared the workers of iniquity were abroad."
"Oh, you know something about it, do you?" asked the Justice of the Peace.
"I was returning from a meeting of the Friends," continued the Quaker blandly, "when I came upon these two misguided souls. As my counsellings were not heeded, and I am a man of peace, I had retired into the woods to pursue my way uninterrupted, when I heard thee approach."
"Well, I'll be glad of your assistance, though I daresay I could have managed them until the police came. They're a dangerous pair.
"And what will thee do with the other prisoner, friend?"