The man who had ventured these somewhat haughty remarks was dressed in a cloak of plum-colored velvet and a feathered hat, of such style and dimension as is seldom seen out of a court. He had come up with an air of nonchalant ease, and had interposed his remarks in a manner which seemed to claim for them the highest possible consideration.
At the opprobrious term “Bumpkin,” it had been on the tip of Justice Pretyman’s tongue to retort, “Bumpkin yourself, sir.” He was a hotheaded little man, also he was vain, also he was very self-important. But he was thwarted in this natural desire by the very patent fact that whatever else this haughty personage was, he was evidently not a bumpkin.
Now Justice Pretyman was a small gentleman, who would like to have been thought a great gentleman. And those who are thus afflicted, however much they may browbeat their inferiors, however much they may ruffle it among their equals, are of all men particularly wary when it comes to a question of their superiors.
By the courtesy of Providence, it chanced that before Justice Pretyman was able to make the proper, necessary and entirely satisfactory rejoinder of “Bumpkin yourself, sir!” his small, birdlike eye lit upon the plum-colored cloak and the hat with the feather, and further, it caught a glimpse of a wonderful doublet of black satin barred with yellow. Therefore, was his rejoinder reduced from “Bumpkin yourself, sir!” to “I beg your pardon, sir,” with as little in the way of asperity and as much in the way of dignity as he could command.
The personage in the plum-colored cloak smiled with a benign gravity.
“If you are upon the Queen’s business, sir,” he said, “heaven forefend that I of all men should come between you and your high and honorable occasions. But, to be plain with you, I am bound to say you and your ragged robins have come here in a plaguy ill season.”
“Od’s life, sir!”
The hand of Justice Pretyman strayed involuntarily to the hilt of his sword. But again his eye caught the plum-colored cloak, and he thought the better of the matter.
“I have written and signed authority,” he said, “to search this house for one Gervase Heriot, a notorious traitor, and that is a course I am determined to follow.”
The man in the plum-colored cloak lowered his voice.