What this courtesy might portend I could but wonder. The secretary sat down at a desk, and I in front of the couch, half stifled by the heat of the chamber. "My father wishes you to hear a sworn deposition read, and afterwards to give your own account of the affair," said the young man. Pennington took up a paper and read. It described the doings at Thorne, when my friend Staniforth was killed, but falsely. According to the deponent, the business began by my inciting my comrades to attack the earl's men, myself leading the assault. Staniforth's death was recorded as happening in the thick of the fray. When the secretary had finished the reading, I told the story from beginning to end, as I have before told it in this book. Lord Butterwick asked me for the names of eyewitnesses, which I gave. Another deposition was to the effect that I had been seen to go to the cottage where Daft Jack (John Temperton he was named in the document) lived; that the deponent had followed me, and heard me use language tending to encourage him in a design on the life of the King's Commissioner. What I had said to Jack, after the event, was cunningly perverted, and reported as having been said before the scene at the White Hart. Again, I gave the true account. All the time the earl said not a word, but kept his eyes steadily on me. Now he turned to his son, saying something in a voice too low for me to hear, and Lord Butterwick replied also in a low tone, but I caught the words, "able to bear more." After they had spoken together in this manner, Lord Butterwick turned again to me. "The earl bids me request your report of the enmity between you and my late brother." "My lord, it began long ago in this house; as I think you will remember, but it came to no more than flouts on his part and scornful answers on mine, when we chanced to meet, which was not often. But of late it has been quickened because we were rivals for the love of Mistress Goel, whom you know. Once I smote him on the face, because he slandered her, but I have done no other ill to him, save a blow with the fist, defending Mistress Goel from his lust and violence. God knows I had no intent to kill him, as may be evident from my smiting with the fist, when I had weapons at my side and in my belt, nor do I believe the blow would have given him his death, had he not turned aside, so that he took it below the ear. At the time I thought him no worse than insensible for the moment." The earl's face grew dark while I spoke, and when I had ended, he said-- "The _peine forte et dure_ might extort a less plausible story." "The prisoner to be laid on his back, and to have iron placed on his breast, as much as he can bear and more, and to be fed with bad bread and stagnant water on alternate days until he testifies truly or dies," murmured the secretary, as if he read from a book. I saw no reason why I should answer, and there was a long silence. At last the earl asked--