The Deputy Sheriff produced a formal-looking document, and unfolding, read forth a warrant from the Sheriff, commanding the arrest forthwith, in the Queen's name, of Mr. Ralph Jefferay." "On what charge, sir?" demanded Sir John. "On the charge of riot and assault," replied the Deputy Sheriff, and forthwith he handed the warrant to Sir John. It was a formal document from the Court of the Star Chamber, bidding the High Sheriff to attach the body of Mr. Ralph Jefferay, to convey the prisoner to the Fleet prison, and to produce him before the Chamber on the following morning at ten o'clock. Sir John had grown pale as marble, and it was evident to all that he was deeply stricken, yet he said in firm tones— "Do your duty, sir." The Deputy Sheriff looked round the hall, and his eyes rested on the twin brothers, as they stood pale yet undismayed side by side. The officer moved towards them, then scanned them both with close but dubious gaze. "Which of you is Mr. Ralph Jefferay?" he said at length. "I am Ralph Jefferay," said Ralph in unfaltering tones. The Sheriff laid his hand on his shoulder and said with loud voice— "I arrest you, Mr. Ralph Jefferay, in the name of the Queen!" Then, turning to his halberdiers, he pointed to Ralph, and immediately two men placed themselves at his side. "Disarm the prisoner," said the officer in sharp words of command. "There is no need," said Ralph, instantly unbuckling his sword, and placing it upon the table. "Are you ready, sir? then follow me," said the Deputy Sheriff, as he turned to leave the hall with his prisoner. "One moment, Mr. Deputy Sheriff," cried Sir John. "Can you grant your prisoner a brief space wherein to make his adieux?" "Certainly, Sir John," replied the officer courteously, "if it be done briefly and in my presence." Then Ralph moved towards his uncle; he would have knelt on one knee before him and have kissed his hand; but Sir John caught him to his breast, and kissing him on both cheeks, said— "Farewell for the present, dear Ralph; keep a brave heart and good courage. Trust in God! Esperez toujours, toujours esperez!" William's turn came next. Ah, what a parting was this! Undying love sat in their eyes as they kissed each other, and William said— "Would God I had died for thee, my brother!" And last of all came Susan, her sweet face suffused with tears and her grief so great that she was voiceless as she embraced her brother and kissed his lips again and again. Many of the guests then crowded round, each with a loving word to comfort and console. Then the Deputy Sheriff gave the signal, his men closed round the prisoner, and in a moment the march began which was to end in the Fleet prison. When the Sheriff's posse had left the hall, and the doors were closed, a great silence fell upon the assembled guests; all looked upon Sir John, who, in reply to their questioning gaze, spoke briefly with agitated voice.