The violence on the door was renewed.
"I am rising, gentlemen," said Frank, trying to gain as much time as possible; "commit no violence—give me leave to look at your warrant, and if it is formal and legal, I shall not oppose it."
"God save great George our King," cried Andrew Fairservice, "I telled ye that ye would find no Jacobites here!"
At last the door had to be opened, when Clerk Jobson and several assistants entered. The lawyer showed a warrant for the arrest of Diana Vernon, her father,—and, to his surprise, of Frank himself.
Clerk Jobson, evidently well-informed, went directly to Diana's chamber.
"The hare has stolen away," he said brutally, "but her form is still warm. The greyhounds will have her by the haunches yet."
A scream from the garden announced that he had prophesied too truly. In five minutes more Rashleigh entered the library with Diana and her father, Sir Frederick, as his prisoners.
"The fox," he said, "knew his old earth, but he forgot it could be stopped by a careful huntsman. I had not forgot the garden gate, Sir Frederick—or, if the title suits you better, my most noble Lord Beauchamp!"
"Rashleigh," said Sir Frederick, "thou art a most detestable villain!"
"I better deserved the name, my Lord," said Rashleigh, turning his eyes piously upward, "when under an able tutor I sought to introduce civil war into a peaceful country. But I have since done my best to atone for my errors."
