“For the caption!” replied Jackson, coolly drawing a brace of pistols from his pockets.
“Ready!” answered Smith, shaking himself, and producing a similar pair of weapons.
“In Heaven's name! what's all this?” cried Wood.
“Be still, and you'll receive no injury,” returned Jackson. “We're merely about to discharge our duty by apprehending a rebel. Captain Kneebone! we must trouble you to accompany us.”
“I've no intention of stirring,” replied the woollen-draper, who was thus unceremoniously disturbed: “and I beg you'll sit down, Mr. Jackson.”
“Come, Sir!” thundered the latter, “no trifling! Perhaps,” he added, opening a warrant, “you'll obey this mandate?”
“A warrant!” ejaculated Kneebone, starting to his feet.
“Ay, Sir, from the Secretary of State, for your arrest! You're charged with high-treason.”
“By those who've conspired with me?”
“No! by those who've entrapped you! You've long eluded our vigilance; but we've caught you at last!”