dignity at a little ferret-faced man in a black dress who stood on the threshold, backed up by a couple of stout constables, who pulled their forelocks and grinned recognition of the young lady. "What is your will, sir?" asked Audrey, in a lofty tone. "Mistress Perrient?" demanded the little man. "Ah, yes; I have a search warrant from Justice Tomkins of Hunstanton, to search, seek, apprehend, and bring in custody one Richard Harrison, a regicide and Fifth-monarchy man, accused of sedition, and raising a riot on the 5th of January last against the king's peace." "How, sir!" cried Audrey; "know you whom you speak to? Methinks you are strangely ignorant of the country, that you dare come here with such papers! This house belongs to Sir Francis Cremer, the High Sheriff of the county!" "Madam," answered the man, visibly startled, "'tis no offence intended to his honour the High Sheriff; but, as he is not dwelling here, he cannot take order to apprehend suspicious persons found roaming round his premises. And Justice Tomkins hath received a very sufficient description of a suspicious person seen here yesterday forenoon." "Suspicious person!" broke out Audrey, with fresh wrath. "And do you dare to say that I, Mistress Audrey Perrient, harbour suspicious persons? Doubtless you think I keep a troop of highwaymen in the house, and share their spoils! And you"--turning on the constables--"Jack Catlin and Tom Abbes, you should take shame to come to the house of my grandfather's child on such an errand." The constables shuffled and looked at each other, and one muttered with a grin-- "The lass is a masterpiece--might be old Sir Gyles himself a rating on us!" "Come, madam," interrupted the man in black, "you must know a magistrate's warrant cannot be disputed. We would not be uncivil to a lady, but enter we must." "Oh, come in, come in!" cried Audrey, throwing the door wide. "You can see all there is to see; and there are my keys," flinging them with a clash on the kitchen table, "only if you come on the Inglethorpe ghosts in searching the house, pray take it not as a sign that I am their murderer, neither if you find my father's clothes, hold them for the Sunday suit of a highwayman." One of the constables picked up the keys with a subdued air, and looked at the leader for further direction. "Yes, we must not delay. You know something of the house, Catlin; you lead the way;" and he prepared to pass into the front part of the house. A thought struck Audrey; she could be sure that the constables would be too stupid and too much afraid of the well-known Inglethorpe ghosts to search over-curiously; but this little man with his ferret face and sharp eyes was dangerous; it might be wise to distract his attention. "Stay, sir," she said, as he was following the men out of the kitchen. "May I ask to whom I am speaking? I see, of course, you are no constable."