The servant, with some savour of embarrassment, glanced anxiously at Don Felix di Corva, and made no reply. Don Felix, however, came to his rescue. “He has not been seen since last even,” he said. “’Tis strange,” remarked Sir Walter, “that he should thus absent himself, at a time when his evidence was sure to be called for, without communicating with his host. But who is he?” “Thou wilt hardly believe, Sir, that I cannot tell thee,” answered Sir Edgar, with an appearance of confusion; “but I do not even know his name.” The person called Sir Walter, who had hitherto seemed to regard the investigation with scarcely any concern, looked graver on receiving this answer, and apparently began to think the matter somewhat important. There was a brief pause before he spoke again. “I fear me,” he then said, addressing Sir Edgar, “we must issue our warrant for thine arrest.” “Surely, this cannot be!” exclaimed Sir Edgar, indignantly. “The law, be it ever so cruel, durst not sanction such violence as this.” “Forbear! forbear, malignant!” cried Shedlock. “Art thou not a murderer?” “Peace, Sir Sheriff!” said Sir Walter. “’Tis not for us to decide on the gentleman’s guilt. He must to prison; but ’tis on mere suspicion.” “To prison, Sir?” cried Sir Edgar. “This must be jest. An English justice, methinks, durst not commit such a stretch of authority.” “God forbid I should exceed the law,” answered Sir Walter; “but it bears on thee, as a Papist, with terrible severity. I speak not to offend; but the last bull of the Bishop of Rome, wherein our gracious Queen is termed a usurper, and her Popish subjects, to whom she hath been so gentle a mistress, urged to assail her sacred life, makes us view all Papists with notable jealousy. An emissary of my Lord Treasurer is found dead on the road, and, thou sayest, was slain in attacking thy litter; but even if thy tale be true, he may have attacked thee, not from a desire of spoil (which is anent to all reason and likelihood), but to seize thee in some act of treason. The very person who slew him, for aught we know, may have been a seminary priest, and so already condemned to the gibbet.” “This is monstrous!” cried Sir Edgar, passionately. “Peace, malignant!” exclaimed Shedlock. “Peace thou, Sir Sheriff!” answered Sir Edgar; “and remember, though power may abet thee now, a day of reckoning will come, when thou shalt be called to account.” “Aha! dost thou threaten me?” replied Shedlock. “Thou thinkest to see the day, then, when the Papist faction shall hold the powers of the state? But surely the Lord will protect his people! O! my trust is in the Lord, and he is mighty to deliver his saints!” “Enough, Master Shedlock,” observed Sir Walter, impatiently. “’Tis our duty, from what we have heard, to send this gentleman to prison; but we have no warrant to give him any offence.”