The door opened and the two overseers appeared with Landless, who advanced and stood, silent and collected, before the ring of hostile faces.
"What is your name, sirrah?" said the Governor, throwing himself into his chair and frowning heavily.
"Godfrey Landless."
"I am told that you are son to one Warham Landless, a so-called colonel in the rebel army and hand in glove with the usurper himself."
"I am the son of Colonel Warham Landless of the forces of the Commonwealth, and friend to his Highness the Lord Protector."
"Humph! And did you fight in these same forces yourself?"
"At Worcester, yes."
"Humph! the son of a traitor and rebel—traitor and rebel yourself—and convict to boot! A pretty record! On what day was this rising to occur?"
No answer. The Governor repeated the question. "On what day was this precious mine to be sprung? And to what place were you to resort?"
Landless remaining silent, the Governor's face began to flush and the veins in his forehead to swell. "Have you lost your tongue?" he said fiercely. "If so, we will find a way to recover it."