Sir John considered the table. It was beyond question that he was in honour bound to enlarge Master Leigh, whatever the fellow might have done; and, indeed, his arrest had been made without Sir John’s knowledge until after the event.
“What am I do with him?” he growled sullenly.
“That is for yourself to decide, Sir John. But I can tell you what you may not do with him. You may not keep him a prisoner, or carry him to England or injure him in any way. Since his arrest was a pure error, as I gather, you must repair that error as best you can. I am satisfied that you will do so, and need say no more. Your servant, sirs,” he added to intimate that he was now entirely at their disposal, and he stood waiting.
There was a slight pause, and then Lord Henry, his face inscrutable, his glance hostile and cold, addressed the prisoner.
“We have had you brought hither to afford you an opportunity of urging any reasons why we should not hang you out of hand, as is our right.”
Sir Oliver looked at him in almost amused surprise. “Faith!” he said at length. “It was never my habit to waste breath.”
“I doubt you do not rightly apprehend me, sir,” returned his lordship, and his voice was soft and silken as became his judicial position. “Should you demand a formal trial, we will convey you to England that you may have it.”
“But lest you should build unduly upon that,” cut in Sir John fiercely, “let me warn you that as the offences for which you are to suffer were chiefly committed within Lord Henry Goade’s own jurisdiction, your trial will take place in Cornwall, where Lord Henry has the honour to be Her Majesty’s Lieutenant and dispenser of justice.”
“Her Majesty is to be congratulated,” said Sir Oliver elaborately.
“It is for you to choose, sir,” Sir John ran on, “whether you will be hanged on sea or land.”