What more he would have said was lost to me, for at that moment Anthony Dacre’s voice called across the fold. “What the murrain, Wiggleskirk! does it take an hour to water thy beast?” says he, and we heard his steps on the frosted straw as he came towards us. I shut the window and the trooper moved away. I caught sight of his figure and of Anthony Dacre’s outlined against the darkness beyond, and for a moment was tempted to see whether a bullet from my pistol could not pick out the right man. But on second thoughts I refrained, and went back to the kitchen and thence to the upper storey to resume my patrol, encourage my men, make enquiry after Sir Nicholas, and wait for daybreak.
Now, when daybreak came there was ample proof that Merciful Wiggleskirk’s recent statement had been based on truth. The house was surrounded by troopers, who rode hither and thither as if to take observation of their position. There was an officer with them who plainly assumed command—as for Anthony Dacre I saw naught of him nor of his gang. I went round the posts which I had already established and exhorted my men to be brave and vigilant. The lads Peter and Benjamin were somewhat concerned because of the array now set before them, and so instead of leaving them together I made Peter exchange places with Humphrey Stirk, thinking that one tried man and a lad together was better than two untried lads. Gregory and Jasper I found unconcerned and ready—they had more faith in our defences, I think, than I had.
Having assured myself that all was in order for the struggle which I now saw we must quickly engage in, I went to Sir Nicholas’s chamber to see how he did. He was by that time sinking fast, having undergone a great change at cockcrow. Alison and Barbara were in close attendance upon him, and as there was naught that needed my immediate attention outside I prepared to stay with them for a little while. But then came John Stirk knocking at the door and asking if I were within. I joined him in the corridor on the instant. “The officer,” says he, pointing to the window overlooking the garden. “He is without there, flying a flag, and demanding to speak with you, Master Coope.”
“Did he ask for me by name?” says I, mightily surprised. “He must have meant Sir Nicholas.”
“He said Master Richard Coope,” says John. “There’s a fine lot of ’em without,” he says, as we went towards the garden window, and, faith, he was right there, as I saw when I looked out. Whether it was that he wished to make a brave show and frighten us into resistance, I cannot say, but he had drawn up all his men in the garden, where their horses’ feet made sad havoc with my uncle’s trim lawns. The officer himself sat his horse a little in advance of the rest, and when I appeared at the window was giving some order to a man who stood at his side bearing a white flag.
I opened the window and leaned out. “You have asked for Richard Coope, sir,” says I, looking down at the officer. “What is it that you wish with me?”
“You are Master Richard Coope?” says he, looking at me with some curiosity.
“The same,” says I.
“I would like to hold parley with you, Master Coope,” says he. “I am Captain Holdsworth, and am charged with your arrest, and with that of Sir Nicholas Coope and his niece, Mistress Alison French. Do you purpose to submit yourselves to me?” says he, as polite as if he asked me whether I preferred white bread to brown. “Or shall we be under the necessity of using force?” he says, first cocking his eye at the brave show of thirty odd troopers behind him, and then glancing at me with an arch expression.