_Con_. An’t please your worship, the people said so where I took him. _Just_. It is a very particular kind of warrant; it is to apprehend a young man who goes by the name of Jacque, but no surname, only that it is said he is called Captain Jacque, or some other such name. Now, young man, pray is your name Captain Jacque? or are you usually called so? I presently found that the men that took me knew nothing of me, and the constable had taken me up by hearsay; so I took heart, and told the justice that I thought, with submission, that it was not the present question what my name was, but what these men, or any one else, had to lay to my charge; whether I was the person who the warrant empowered them to apprehend or no. He smiled. “’Tis very true, young man,” says he, “it is very true; and, on my word, if they have taken you up, and do not know you, and there is nobody to charge you, they will be mistaken to their own damage.” Then I told his worship I hoped I should not be obliged to tell my name till my accuser was brought to charge me, and then I should not conceal my name. “It is but reason,” said his good worship. “Mr. Constable,” turning to the officers, “are you sure this is the person that is intended in your warrant? If you are not, you must fetch the person that accuses him, and on whose oath the warrant was granted.” They used many words to insinuate that I was the person, and that I knew it well enough, and that I should be obliged to tell my name. I insisted on the unreasonableness of it, and that I should not be obliged to accuse myself: and the justice told them in so many words that he could not force me to it, that I might do it if I would, indeed; “but you see,” says the justice, “he understood too well to be imposed upon in that case.” So that, in short, after an hour’s debating before his worship, in which time I pleaded against four of them, the justice told them they must produce the accuser, or he must discharge me. I was greatly encouraged at this, and argued with the more vigour for myself. At length the accuser was brought, fettered as he was, from the gaol, and glad I was when I saw him, and found that I knew him not; that is to say, that it was not one of the two rogues that I went out with that night that we robbed the poor old woman. When the prisoner was brought into the room he was set right against me. “Do you know this young man?” says the justice. “No, sir,” says the prisoner; “I never saw him in my life.” “Hum!” says the justice; “did not you charge one that goes by the name of Jacque, or Captain Jacque, as concerned in the robbery and murder which you are in custody for?” _Pris_. Yes, an’t please your worship. _Just_. And is this the man, or is he not? _Pris_. This is not the man, sir; I never saw this man before. “Very good, Mr. Constable,” says the justice, “what must we do now?”