The blow on the door was, repeated.
“Open in the King’s name,” shouted the officer.
“I always obey that authority,” answered Dame Treviss, from within, “Ralph, unlock the door.”
The door was thrown open, and the seamen, led by their officer, rushed in. The old dame sat calmly in her chair, while Ralph, with Jessie clinging to his arm, stood in the centre of the room.
“Why have you come here at this time of the evening, my friends?” asked Mrs Treviss, with all the composure she could command.
“Because, old lady, we have information that you are harbouring seamen wanted for his Majesty’s service, and, if I mistake not, here stands one of them, and a likely lad too,” answered the officer, a rough old master’s mate, well accustomed to such work, as he laid his hand on Ralph’s arm and made a sign to his men to seize him.
“Oh, no, no! You cannot take him! You will not be so cruel—you shall not have him,” cried Jessie, clinging tightly to her intended husband.
“Don’t be frightened, dear Jessie, they cannot take me, I have my protection,” said Ralph, trying to free himself from the officer’s grasp.
“Let go my arm, and I will show you the paper which proves that I am mate of the Amity, and a protected man,” he added, turning to the officer.
“Never took a fellow yet who didn’t try to make out that he was protected. However, if the young woman here won’t make such a fuss we’ll let you overhaul your pockets for your protection.”