‘Who opened the gate for him?’

‘I did, my lord,’ said Eccles.  ’He made me believe he was talking to your lordship at the study window.’

‘Ha! a cunning fox!’ said the marquis.  ‘And then?’

‘And then mistress Dorothy fell out upon me—­’

‘Let thy tongue wag civilly, Eccles.’

‘He speaks true, my lord,’ said Dorothy.  ’I did fall out upon him, for he was but half awake, and I knew not what mischief might be at hand.’

’Eccles is obliged to you, cousin.  And so the lady brought you to your senses in time to catch him?’

‘Yes, my lord.’

‘How comes he wounded?  He was but one to a score.’

‘My lord, he would else have killed us all.’

‘He was armed then?’

Eccles was silent.

‘Was he armed?’ repeated the marquis.

‘He had a heavy whip, my lord.’

‘H’m!’ said the marquis, and turned to the prisoner.

‘Is thy name Heywood, sirrah?’ he asked.

’My lord, if you treat me as a clown, you shall have but clown’s manners of me; I will not answer.’

‘’Fore heaven!’ exclaimed the marquis, ’our squires would rule the roast.’

‘He that doth right, marquis or squire, will one day rule, my lord,’ said Richard.

‘’Tis well said,’ returned the marquis.  ’I ask your pardon, Mr. Heywood.  In times like these a man must be excused for occasionally dropping his manners.’

’Assuredly, my lord, when he stoops to recover them so gracefully as doth the marquis of Worcester.’

‘What, then, would’st thou in my house at midnight, Mr. Heywood?’ asked the marquis courteously.

’Nothing save mine own, my lord.  I came but to look for a stolen mare.’

‘What! thou takest Raglan for a den of thieves?’

‘I found the mare in your lordship’s stable.’

‘How then came the mare in my stable?’

‘That is not a question for me to answer, my lord.’

‘Doubtless thou didst lose her in battle against thy sovereign.’

‘She was in Redware stable last night, my lord.’

‘Which of you, knaves, stole the gentleman’s mare?’ cried the marquis.—­’But, Mr. Heywood, there can be no theft upon a rebel.  He is by nature an outlaw, and his life and goods forfeit to the king.’

’He will hardly yield the point, my lord.  So long as Might, the sword, is in the hand of Right, the—­’

‘Of Right, the roundhead, I suppose you mean,’ interrupted the marquis.  ‘Who carried off Mr. Heywood’s mare?’ he repeated, rising, and looking abroad on the crowd.

‘Tom Fool,’ answered a voice from the obscure distance.

A buzz of suppressed laughter followed, which as instantly ceased, for the marquis looked angrily around.

‘Stand forth, Tom Fool,’ he said.

Through the crowd came Tom, and stood before the dais, looking frightened and sheepish.