“Well, rascal?” said the gentleman sternly.

“It is mine, truly,” I said.  “But—­”

“Go fetch the men,” he said to the boy.

“As sure as I’m alive I’ll commit you for a rogue and vagabond, for mendicancy and assault.”

He drew his horse across the gate so that I could not escape, while the boy hastened to the house.

“You are a magistrate, sir,” I ventured to say, “and sure ’tis not your custom to condemn your prisoners unheard.”

“Adzooks, you teach me my duty?” he cried in a rage.  “You insolent scoundrel!”

I held my peace, and in a few moments the boy returned, with two stablemen.

“Take this fellow to the coach house,” said their master.

“I’ll go where you please,” I cried hotly, “but if those men lay a finger on me I’ll crack their skulls for them.”

My height and my fierce aspect so well promised that I could perform my threat that the men held off and eyed their master dubiously.

“Lead on, Roger!” he cried with an oath, too much incensed for further speech.

The boy led the way.  I followed, the two stablemen stepping behind me, but at a reasonable distance, and the horseman brought up the rear.  Thus in procession we went round the house to the back; I entered the coach house, and the gentleman having dismounted, came in after me, and commanded me to give an account of myself.

Chapter 9:  Good Samaritans.

During the short passage to the coach house I had been trying to consider my course:  but my state of famishment and the agitation into which I had been thrown had bereft me of all power of consecutive thought; so that when the gentleman called upon me, in no gentle tones, to give an account of myself, I stood like a stock fish before him.  Then I was amazed to feel my legs giving way under me; I stretched forth my arms in an instinctive attempt to steady myself, and, clutching at empty air, fell heavily forward on to the stone floor.

When I came to myself, I saw a kind, motherly face bending over me, and was aware of a hot taste in my mouth.

“Are you better now?” said the lady, in tones the like of which I had seldom heard.

I smiled, and she held a spoon to my lips, and I swallowed its contents—­a mixture of rum and milk, I think—­as obediently as a baby.

“Poor boy! he must have been starving,” said the lady.

“And what right had a fellow to be starving with a crown piece in his pocket?” said the gentleman behind.

“He will explain by and by,” replied the lady.  “He must not be vexed tonight, James.  I have made up a bed in the loft, and Martha is preparing some food.

“Can you walk, my poor boy?” she asked me.

“I am quite well, ma’am,” I said, staggering to my feet.  “I don’t know what came over me.”

She told me that I had fainted, which surprised me mightily, though when I came to reflect it was not much to be wondered at, seeing that never in my life before had I been for more than four hours without food.