'H'm!' said the marquis, and turned to the prisoner.
'Is thy name Heywood, sirrah?' he asked.
'My lord, if you treat me as a clown, you shall have but clown's manners of me; I will not answer.'
''Fore heaven!' exclaimed the marquis, 'our squires would rule the roast.'
'He that doth right, marquis or squire, will one day rule, my lord,' said Richard.
''Tis well said,' returned the marquis. 'I ask your pardon, Mr. Heywood. In times like these a man must be excused for occasionally dropping his manners.'
'Assuredly, my lord, when he stoops to recover them so gracefully as doth the marquis of Worcester.'
'What, then, would'st thou in my house at midnight, Mr. Heywood?' asked the marquis courteously.
'Nothing save mine own, my lord. I came but to look for a stolen mare.'
'What! thou takest Raglan for a den of thieves?'