Sir John protested vehemently against the order, and declared it would put him to the greatest inconvenience.
“I cannot help that,” said the sheriff. “I own I am somewhat perplexed, but a great responsibility rests with me, and I am afraid of committing an error.”
“Then I warn you that you will commit a very great error indeed, if you take me to Newcastle,” said Sir John.
“We are wasting time here,” cried the sheriff. “Your ladyship will be pleased to re-enter the carriage,” he added, in a polite, but authoritative tone to Lady Webb—“and you, Sir John.”
The women servants followed, and the footman was about to shut the door, when the sheriff told him he must get in likewise.
Finding Sir John was about to resist the intrusion, Jesmond pushed the young man in, vociferating in a mocking voice:
“Room for his majesty, King James the Third!”
Irritated to the last point, Sir John would certainly have resented the insult if Lady Webb had not held him fast.
She could not, however, prevent him from putting his head out from the window, and shouting to the sheriff:
“Where is this farce to end, Sir William?”