“Yet, on the other hand,” continued Brilliana, “each of you accuses the other of robbing him. Now to rob is to offend against the King’s law, to be, therefore, an enemy to the King; and an enemy to the King is a Roundhead. Is not this well argued, Sir Blaise?”
“Socrates could not have bettered it,” commended Sir Blaise.
“We arrive, therefore, at the strange conclusion,” said Brilliana, judicially, “that each of you is at the same time an honest Cavalier and a dishonest Roundhead. Now, as no man living can be in the same breath Cavalier and Roundhead, it follows as plainly as B follows A that whichever one of you complains of the other is avowedly the King’s enemy and a palpable rebel.”
Master Paul scratched his head.
“I do not follow your reasoning,” he mumbled. Brilliana appealed to the justice of the peace.
“Yet it is very clear. Is it not, Sir Blaise?”
“Limpidity itself,” Sir Blaise approved, complacently. Brilliana resumed.
“One or other of you is a traitor and shall be sent to Oxford in chains, to await the King’s pleasure and his own pain. I care not which it be.”
“You have set me in such a quandary,” Master Paul protested, “my head buzzes like a hive.”
Brilliana directly questioned him.