may be ane of them, it is weel not to neglect due precaution.  And now, man,” he added, raising his voice, and addressing the Puritan, who still maintained a steadfast and unmoved demeanour, with his eye constantly fixed upon his interrogator.  “Ye say ye are a messenger frae heaven.  An it be sae,—­whilk we take leave to doubt, rather conceiving ye to be an envoy from the Prince of Darkness than an ambassador from above,—­an ill choice hath been made in ye.  Unto what order of prophets do ye conceive yourself to belong?”

To this interrogation, propounded in a jeering tone, the Puritan deigned no reply; but an answer was given for him by Archee, the court jester, who had managed in the confusion to creep up to his royal master’s side.

“He belongs to the order of Melchisedec,” said Archee.  A reply that occasioned some laughter among the nobles, in which the King joined heartily.

“Tut, fule! ye are as daft as the puir body before us,” cried James.  “Ken ye not that Melchisedec was a priest and not a prophet; while to judge frae yon fellow’s abulyiements, if he belongs to any church at all, it maun be to the church militant.  And yet, aiblins, ye are na sae far out after a’.  Like aneuch, he may be infected with the heresy of the Melchisedecians,—­a pestilent sect, who plagued the early Christian Church sairly, placing their master aboon our Blessed Lord himself, and holding him to be identical wi’ the Holy Ghaist.  Are ye a Melchisedecian, sirrah?”

“I am a believer in the Gospel,” the Puritan replied.  “And am willing to seal my faith in it with my blood.  I am sent hither to warn thee, O King, and thou wilt do well not to despise my words.  Repent ere it be too late.  Wonderfully hath thy life been preserved.  Dedicate the remainder of thy days to the service of the Most High.  Persecute not His people, and revile them not.  Purge thy City of its uncleanness and idolatry, and thy Court of its corruption.  Profane not the Sabbath”—­

“I see how it is,” interrupted Archee with a scream; “the man hath been driven stark wud by your Majesty’s Book of Sports.”

“A book devised by the devil,” cried Hugh Calveley, catching at the suggestion; “and which ought to be publicly burnt by the hangman, instead of being read in the churches.  How much, mischief hath that book done!  How many abominations hath it occasioned!  And, alas! how much persecution hath it caused; for have not many just men, and sincere preachers of the Word, been prosecuted in thy Court, misnamed of justice, and known, O King! as the Star-Chamber; suffering stripes and imprisonment for refusing to read thy mischievous proclamation to their flocks.”

“I knew it!—­I knew it!” screamed Archee, delighted with the effect he had produced.  “Take heed, sirrah,” he cried to the Puritan, “that ye make not acquaintance wi’ ‘that Court misnamed of justice’ yer ain sell.”

“He is liker to be arraigned at our court styled the King’s Bench, and hanged, drawn, and quartered afterwards,” roared James, far more enraged at the disrespectful mention made of his manifesto, than by anything that had previously occurred.  “The man is not sae doited as we supposed him.”