The Deputy Sheriff produced a formal-looking document, and unfolding, read forth a warrant from the Sheriff, commanding the arrest forthwith, in the Queen's name, of Mr. Ralph Jefferay."
"On what charge, sir?" demanded Sir John.
"On the charge of riot and assault," replied the Deputy Sheriff, and forthwith he handed the warrant to Sir John.
It was a formal document from the Court of the Star Chamber, bidding the High Sheriff to attach the body of Mr. Ralph Jefferay, to convey the prisoner to the Fleet prison, and to produce him before the Chamber on the following morning at ten o'clock.
Sir John had grown pale as marble, and it was evident to all that he was deeply stricken, yet he said in firm tones—
"Do your duty, sir."
The Deputy Sheriff looked round the hall, and his eyes rested on the twin brothers, as they stood pale yet undismayed side by side.
The officer moved towards them, then scanned them both with close but dubious gaze.
"Which of you is Mr. Ralph Jefferay?" he said at length.
"I am Ralph Jefferay," said Ralph in unfaltering tones.