“Heavens, madam, but I am he!”

“I truly think you think it, sir.  I question not your honesty in that; I but warn you, that is all.  My husband is master in this region; his power hath hardly any limit; the people prosper or starve, as he wills.  If you resembled not the man whom you profess to be, my husband might bid you pleasure yourself with your dream in peace; but trust me, I know him well; I know what he will do; he will say to all that you are but a mad impostor, and straightway all will echo him.”  She bent upon Miles that same steady look once more, and added:  “If you were Miles Hendon, and he knew it and all the region knew it—­consider what I am saying, weigh it well—­you would stand in the same peril, your punishment would be no less sure; he would deny you and denounce you, and none would be bold enough to give you countenance.”

“Most truly I believe it,” said Miles, bitterly.  “The power that can command one life-long friend to betray and disown another, and be obeyed, may well look to be obeyed in quarters where bread and life are on the stake and no cobweb ties of loyalty and honour are concerned.”

A faint tinge appeared for a moment in the lady’s cheek, and she dropped her eyes to the floor; but her voice betrayed no emotion when she proceeded—­

“I have warned you—­I must still warn you—­to go hence.  This man will destroy you, else.  He is a tyrant who knows no pity.  I, who am his fettered slave, know this.  Poor Miles, and Arthur, and my dear guardian, Sir Richard, are free of him, and at rest:  better that you were with them than that you bide here in the clutches of this miscreant.  Your pretensions are a menace to his title and possessions; you have assaulted him in his own house:  you are ruined if you stay.  Go—­do not hesitate.  If you lack money, take this purse, I beg of you, and bribe the servants to let you pass.  Oh, be warned, poor soul, and escape while you may.”

Miles declined the purse with a gesture, and rose up and stood before her.

“Grant me one thing,” he said.  “Let your eyes rest upon mine, so that I may see if they be steady.  There—­now answer me.  Am I Miles Hendon?”

“No.  I know you not.”

“Swear it!”

The answer was low, but distinct—­

“I swear.”

“Oh, this passes belief!”

“Fly!  Why will you waste the precious time?  Fly, and save yourself.”

At that moment the officers burst into the room, and a violent struggle began; but Hendon was soon overpowered and dragged away.  The King was taken also, and both were bound and led to prison.

Chapter XXVII.  In prison.