Mr. Justice Scully looked perfectly thunder-struck at the insolence of this speech; and the clerk, who, having lost one of his fore-teeth, whistled somewhat in the utterance, strongly recommended that the gentleman should be committed. Sir Harry West, however, interposed; and the regular course of proceeding was commenced.
"Now, sir, what is your name?" asked the justice, turning to the old man on his right.
"My name is Jonas Weston," was the reply; "by trade a perfumer and druggist."
"Well, Master Jonas," said the justice, "if you ever do get into the whale's belly, you are just the man to give him an emetic."
The clerk and the constables laughed, but Sir Harry West looked grave, though such jests were then not uncommon, even on serious occasions; and the court proceeded to ask the perfumer what was his charge against Master George Brooke.
"None that I know of," replied the perfumer; "I never saw the gentleman before in my life, that I know of."
"Yes thou hast, thou imp of evil!" cried George Brooke, "when thou wert playing deputy devil to Mrs. Turner, of Shore Lane. But if he has no charge against me, why am I brought hither?"
"Why, your worship," said the chief constable, advancing, "that man with the earrings swore he thought the girl had gone off with some young man from the inn at Hadleigh, so as we found him with her, we brought them both."
"You did right," said the magistrate, "there was just cause for suspicion; and constables have a right to apprehend all suspicious persons."
George Brooke burst into a loud laugh. "I have heard of Hampshire hogs," he cried, "and this seems to be hog law. Sir Harry West, I wish you joy of your company, and unto the whole court a very good morning. As there is no charge against me, I shall go." Thus saying, he stuck his beaver on his head, and walked towards the door.