"Sit down, my dear, sit down.--What is all this?--I do not understand.--Mr. Frankland, sir, what do you want of me?--And who are all these gentlemen?--Won't you sit down, Mr. Frankland and take a glass of wine. Let me make Mr. Stewart known to you." And he lifted a shaking hand as if to introduce them. The magistrate smiled a little on one side of his mouth. "It is no use, Sir Nicholas," he said, "this gentleman, I fear, is well known to some of us already.--No, no, sir," he cried sharply, "the window is guarded." Mr. Stewart, who had looked swiftly and sideways across at the window, faced the magistrate again. "I do not know what you mean, sir," he said. "It was a lad who passed the window." There was a movement outside in the hall; and the magistrate stepped to the door. "Who is there?" he cried out sharply. There was a scuffle, and a cry of a boy's voice; and a man appeared, holding Anthony by the arm. Mistress Margaret turned round in her seat; and said in a perfectly natural voice, "Why, Anthony, my lad!" There was a murmur from one or two of the men. "Silence," called out the magistrate. "We will finish the other affair first," and he made a motion to hold Anthony for a moment.--"Now then, do any of you men know this gentleman?" A pursuivant stepped out. "Mr. Frankland, sir; I know him under two names--Mr. Chapman and Mr. Wode. He is a popish agent. I saw him in the company of Dr. Storey in Antwerp, four months ago." Mr. Stewart blew out his lips sharply and contemptuously. "Pooh," he said; and then turned to the man and bowed ironically. "I congratulate you, my man," he said, in a tone of bitter triumph. "In April I was in France. Kindly remember this man's words, Mr. Frankland; they will tell in my favour. For I presume you mean to take me." "I will remember them," said the magistrate. Mr. Stewart bowed to him; he had completely regained his composure. Then he turned to Sir Nicholas and Lady Maxwell, who had been watching in a bewildered silence. "I am exceedingly sorry," he said, "for having brought this annoyance on you, Lady Maxwell; but these men are so sharp that they see nothing but guilt everywhere. I do not know yet what my crime is. But that can wait. Sir Nicholas, we should have parted anyhow in half an hour. We shall only say good-bye here, instead of at the door." The magistrate smiled again as before; and half put up his hand to hide it. "I beg your pardon, Mr. Chapman; but you need not part from Sir Nicholas yet. I fear, Sir Nicholas, that I shall have to trouble you to come with us." Lady Maxwell drew a quick hissing breath; her sister got up swiftly and went to her, as she sat down in Sir Nicholas' chair, still holding the old man's hand. Sir Nicholas turned to his guest; and his voice broke again and again as he spoke.