"Are you Cornet Michael Fane?" he asked.
"I am Michael Fane, but cannot claim the rank," I answered coldly, for his bearing was both bold and insolent.
"That matters not," quoth he. "I hold a warrant here for your arrest."
"Ah, so! And, prithee, on what grounds?" I asked.
"Why, on the best of grounds," he answered, opening the paper with a flourish. "For having aided and abetted rebels; for having spoken seditious words against His Majesty, King James, et cetera, et cetera."
"It is a lie!" I thundered.
"Then come and prove it so before my Lord Chief Justice Jeffreys, at Dorchester," said he, folding up the paper with great care.
Dorchester, whose prison was already full to overflowing! and Jeffreys, the heartless monster, who had just sent grey-haired, saintly Alice Lisle to death! I stood and stared until the horsemen, sitting there before me, seemed to vanish like a vision. But I was soon brought back to the grim reality of things.
"Come!" said the captain, striking his jack-boot with the warrant. "There is no time to lose. We have a spare horse here; so, when you're ready----"
There was nothing for it but to go. Calling Tom, the groom, I told him quickly how things stood, at which his terror and amazement were such that he could only stand there dumb and gaping. So I mounted, and away we went.