Micah Clarke

"Take down this fellow's statement," said the Duke to his scrivener. "Now, sirrah, it may not be known to you that his gracious Majesty the King hath conferred plenary powers upon me during these troubled times, and that I have his warrant to deal with all traitors without either jury or judge. You do bear a commission, I understand, in the rebellious body which is here described as Saxon's regiment of Wiltshire Foot? Speak the truth for your neck's sake."

"I will speak the truth for the sake of something higher than that, your Grace," I answered. "I command a company in that regiment."

"And who is this Saxon?"

"I will answer all that I may concerning myself," said I, "but not a word which may reflect upon others."

"Ha!" he roared, hot with anger. "Our pretty gentleman must needs stand upon the niceties of honor after taking up arms against his King. I tell you, sir, that your honor is in such a parlous state already that you may well throw it over and look to your safety. The sun is sinking in the west. Ere it set your life, too, may have set for ever."

"I am the keeper of my own honor, your Grace," I answered. "As to my life, I should not be standing here this moment if I had any great dread of losing it. It is right that I should tell you that my Colonel hath sworn to exact a return for any evil that may befall me, on you or any of your household who may come into his power. This I say, not as a threat, but as a warning, for I know him to be a man who is like to be as good as his word."

"Your Colonel, as you call him, may find it hard enough to save himself soon," the Duke answered with a sneer. "How many men hath Monmouth with him?"

I smiled and shook my head.

"How shall we make this traitor find his tongue?" he asked furiously, turning to his council.

"I should clap on the thumbikins," said one fierce-faced old soldier.