“you will observe, that the absolute control of all houses of entertainment, where exciseable liquors are vended, is delegated to us by his most gracious Majesty, King James.  To which end ample powers have been given us by his Majesty, who has armed us with the strong arm of the law.  Will it please ye to inspect the letters, gentlemen?” holding them forth.  “You will find that his Majesty hath thus written;—­’In cujus rei testimonium has Literas nostras fieri fecimus patentes.  Teste Meipso, apud Westm. 10 die Maij, Anno Regni nostri,’ &c.  Then follows the royal signature.  None of ye, I presume, will question its authenticity?”

A deep silence succeeded, in the midst of which Jocelyn Mounchensey broke forth:—­

“I, for one, question it,” he cried.  “I will never believe that a king, who, like our gracious sovereign, has the welfare of his subjects at heart, would sanction the oppression and injustice which those warrants, if entrusted to unscrupulous hands, must inevitably accomplish.  I therefore mistrust the genuineness of the signature.  If not forged, it has been obtained by fraud or misrepresentation.”

Some murmurs of applause followed this bold speech; but the gentleman who had previously counselled the young man again interposed, and whispered these words in his ear:—­

“Your rash vehemence will undo you, if you take not heed.  Beyond question, Sir Giles hath the king’s sanction for what he does, and to censure him as you have done is to censure the Crown, which is next to treason.  Be ruled by me, my good young Sir, and meddle no more in the matter.”

Sir Giles, who had some difficulty in controlling his choler, now spoke:—­

“You have cast an imputation upon me, Jocelyn Mounchensey,” he cried with concentrated fury, “which you shall be compelled to retract as publicly as you have made it.  To insult an officer of the Crown, in the discharge of his duty, is to insult the Crown itself, as you will find.  In the King’s name, I command you to hold your peace, or, in the King’s name, I will instantly arrest you; and I forbid any one to give you aid.  I will not be troubled thus.  Appointed by his Majesty to a certain office, I exercise it as much for the benefit of the Royal Exchequer, as for my own personal advantage.  I have his Majesty’s full approval of what I do, and I need nothing more.  I am accountable to no man—­save the King,” addressing this menace as much to the rest of the company as to Jocelyn.  “But I came not here to render explanation, but to act.  What, ho!  Madame Bonaventure!  Where are ye, Madame?  Oh! you are here!”

“Bon jour, sweet Sir Giles,” the landlady said, making him a profound obeisance.  “What is your pleasure with me, Sir?  And to what am I to attribute the honour of this visit?”

“Tut!  Madame.  You know well enough what brings me hither, and thus attended,” he replied.  “I come in pursuance of a notice, served upon you a month ago.  You will not deny having received it, since the officer who placed it in your hands is here present.”  And he indicated Clement Lanyere.