exclaimed; but the villains heeded me not!--Now, sir, what the devil does all this mean? What am I accused of? I insist upon being answered.” “My dear neighbour, my very worthy friend Borfield,” said Stapleton, “I need your assistance--your presence--your advice in this matter.” “You're very complimentary, indeed!--What! now you've made a blunder, you drag me into your counsels to bear half the blame!--Neighbour Stapleton, I'm a very ill-used man, and I won't put up with it. Talk of the liberty of the subject, and the power of a justice of the peace!--Why, I've been treated like a tetotum! At this rate, a magistrate's an old woman; or worse--worse by this band! Brute force beats the King's commission! I'm dragged out of my bed at midnight, by lawless ruffians--lifted into a saddle, when I haven't set foot in stirrup these twenty years--and brought here, on the back of a rough-trotting galloway, close prisoner, to sign some documents, I suppose, which wouldn't be legal without the formality of a second magistrate's name. I'll tell you what, James Stapleton, I don't like it--If I'm an old man, I'm not a machine. Your satellites have brought the horse to the brook, but you can't make him drink. I'll sign nothing; I'll die first:--for I'm hurt and insulted.” The old man now grew exhausted, and Stapleton once more attempted to pacify him. By dint of excuses, and a few flattering compliments on the freshness and vigour of his intellectual powers, and the value of the advice of a man who had so much experience, Stapleton, at length, prevailed upon him to hear the end of his statement relative to Saul's escape. “Well, well! then order coffee and dry toast,” said Borfield; “for if you need advice, I lack refreshment. Order coffee, and let the toast he cut thin, and baked by a steady hand--by-the-by, let my own miscreant do it,--and then we'll see what can be done.”