I was startled at the confidence with which this question was put, and in vain rummaged my memory for the means of replying. ‘At least,’ I said, ‘I always remember being called Darsie; children, at that early age, seldom get more than their Christian name.’
‘Oh, I thought so,’ he replied, and again stretched himself on his seat, in the same lounging posture as before.
‘So you were called Darsie in your infancy,’ said the Justice; ‘and—hum—aye—when did you first take the name of Latimer?’
‘I did not take it, sir; it was given to me.’
‘I ask you,’ said the lord of the mansion, but with less severity in his voice than formerly, ‘whether you can remember that you were ever called Latimer, until you had that name given you in Scotland?’
‘I will be candid: I cannot recollect an instance that I was so called when in England, but neither can I recollect when the name was first given me; and if anything is to be founded on these queries and my answers, I desire my early childhood may be taken into consideration.’
‘Hum—aye—yes,’ said the Justice; ‘all that requires consideration shall be duly considered. Young man—eh—I beg to know the name of your father and mother?’
This was galling a wound that has festered for years, and I did not endure the question so patiently as those which preceded it; but replied, ‘I demand, in my turn, to know if I am before an English Justice of the Peace?’
‘His worship, Squire Foxley, of Foxley Hall, has been of the quorum these twenty years,’ said Master Nicholas.
‘Then he ought to know, or you, sir, as his clerk, should inform him,’ said I, ‘that I am the complainer in this case, and that my complaint ought to be heard before I am subjected to cross-examination.’