Unquestionably the man was in
earnest, and spoke like one who believed that a mission had been
entrusted to him. No interruption was offered to his speech, even by the
King, though the latter turned pale as these terrible coming events
were shadowed forth before him.
"His words are awsome," he muttered, "and gar the flesh creep on our
banes. Will nane o' ye stap his tongue?"
"Better hae stapt it afore this," said Archee; "he has said ower meikle,
or not aneuch, The Deil's malison on thee, fellow, for a prophet of ill!
Hast thou aught to allege why his Majesty should not tuck thee up with a
halter?"
"I have spoken," responded the Puritan; "let the King do with me what he
lists."
"Seize him! arrest him! ye are nearest to him, Sir," shouted the king to
Jocelyn.
The command could not be disobeyed. As Jocelyn drew near, and laid his
hand upon Hugh Calveley, the latter looked reproachfully at him, saying,
"Thou doest well, son of my old friend."
Jocelyn was unable to reply, for a crowd now pressed forward on all
sides, completely surrounding the prisoner. Some of the nobles
threatened him with their swords, and the warders, who had come up from
the gateway, thrust at him with their partizans. Jocelyn had great
difficulty in shielding him from the infuriated throng.
"Touch him not!" he cried, clearing a space around them with the point
of his sword. "His Majesty has committed him to my custody, and I am
responsible for him. Pardon me if I disarm you, Sir," he added in an
undertone to the prisoner.
Pages:
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196