While the young man was speaking, the stranger and his son had worked
their way close to the stout soldier-like man who has been described.
The stranger's eye fell on his countenance. He touched his son's
shoulder. "An old comrade in arms!" he whispered. "A truer man than
Captain William Mead,--trusty Bill Mead, we used to call him,--never
drew sword in the cause of liberty. If I can but catch his eye and get
a grip of his honest hand, I will ask him who that young man can be,--a
brave fellow, whoever he is." In another instant the two old comrades
had recognised each other.
"What, Christison! Nicholas Christison! is it thou?" exclaimed Captain
Mead, examining the stranger's countenance. "Verily, I thought thou
wast no longer in the land of the living; but thou art welcome, heartily
welcome. Come with me to my house in Cornhill, at the sign of the
`Spinning Wheel,' and thou shalt tell me where thou hast been wandering
all this time; while, may be, we will have a talk of bygone days."
"With all my heart," answered Christison; "but tell me who is that noble
youth addressing the people? He seems by his dress and bearing not one
likely to utter such sentiments as are now dropping from his mouth!"
"Verily, he is not less noble in deed and word than in look," answered
Mead. "He is William Penn, the son of the admiral who fought so well
for the Commonwealth, and now serves a master about whom the less we say
the better."
"I remember him well; a brave, sagacious man, but one who was ever ready
to serve his own interest first, and those of his country afterwards. I
should not have expected to find a son of his consorting with Quakers."
"No, verily; as light from darkness, so does the son differ from the
father in spiritual matters," answered Mead. "The son has sacrificed
all his worldly prospects for the sake of his own soul and for those of
his fellow-creatures. In a righteous cause he fears no foes, temporal
or spiritual; and is ready to lay down his life, if needs be, for the
truth."
"A brave youth he must be, by my troth," observed Christison. "Wenlock,
my boy, I pray Heaven you may be like him. I would rather have thee a
thorough true-hearted man, than the first noble in the land."
At this moment, Mead, who had been stopped by the crowd from making his
way towards the place where William Penn was speaking, saw an
opportunity of advancing, and again moved forward, accompanied by his
old friend and his son. There was, indeed, a general movement in the
crowd, and voices in tones of authority were heard shouting, "Make way
there; make way!" The people who uttered these cries were soon
recognised as sheriffs' officers. They were advancing towards Penn.
Their intention was evident.
"They are about to arrest him," said Mead; "but he has done nothing
worthy of bonds."
"No, by my troth he has not," exclaimed Christison; "and I would gladly,
even now, strike a blow for the cause of liberty, and rescue him from
their power, if they attempt to lay hands on him."
"No, no, friend, put up thy sword," said Mead; "we fight not with carnal
weapons. He would not thank you for any such attempt on your part."
By this time the constables had reached Penn, and informed him that he
was their prisoner. Two others at the same time came up to where Mead
was standing, and arrested him also. It was a sore trial to the old
Republican officer to stand by and see his friend carried off to prison.
"By whose authority am I arrested?" asked Penn, turning with an air of
dignity to the officers.
One of them immediately produced a document. "See here, young sir," he
said in an insulting tone, "This is our warrant! It is signed by the
worshipful Lord Mayor, Sir Samuel Starling. I have a notion that
neither you nor any of your friends would wish to resist it."
"We resist no lawful authority; but I question how far this warrant is
lawful," answered the young Quaker. "Howbeit, if thou and thy
companions use force, to force we yield, and must needs accompany thee
whithersoever thou conductest us."
"Farewell, old friend," said Mead, shaking Christison by the hand, as
the constables were about to lead him off. "I would rather have spent a
pleasant evening with thee in my house than have had to pass it in a
jail: but yet in a righteous cause all true men should be ready to
suffer."
"Indeed so, old comrade; and you know that I am not the man to desert
you at a pinch. As we are not to pass the evening together at your
house, I will spend it with you in jail. I suppose they will not
exclude you from the society of your friends?"
Mead shrugged his shoulders. "It is hard to say how we may be treated,
for we Quakers gain but scant courtesy or justice."
These last remarks were made as Mead, with a constable on either side of
him, was being led off with William Penn to the Guildhall.
The old Commonwealth officer and his son followed as close behind them
as the shouting, jeering mob would allow them; Christison revolving in
his mind how he should act best to render assistance to his old friend.
At length they arrived at the hall where the Lord Mayor was sitting for
the administration of justice.
Captain Christison and his son entered with others who found their way
into the court. A short, though somewhat corpulent-looking gentleman,
with ferrety eyes and rubicund nose, telling of numerous cups of sack
which had gone down between the thick lips below it, occupied the
magisterial chair.
"Who are these knaves?" he exclaimed, in a gruff voice, casting a fierce
glance at the young William Penn and his companion, Captain Mead.
"What! ye varlets, do you come into the presence of the Lord Mayor of
London with your hats on? Ho! ho! I know you now," he exclaimed, as an
officer handed him a paper, while he turned his eyes especially on Penn.
"Let me tell you, if you pay not proper respect to the court, I will
have you carried to Bridewell and well whipped, you varlet, though you
are the son of a Commonwealth admiral! Do you hear me, sirrah?"
"By my troth," whispered Christison to his son. "I should like to rush
in with my sword and stop that foul-speaking varlet's mouth, Lord Mayor
of London though he be. And now I look at him, I remember him well,
Master Starling, a brawling supporter of the Protector when he was
seated firmly at the head of Government. And now see, he is louder
still in carrying out the evil designs of this Charles Stuart and his
myrmidons." These words, though said in a low voice, were not
altogether inaudible to some of the by-standers.
"Beware!" said some one at his elbow.
To this tirade of the Lord Mayor, the young gentleman made no answer.
"Do you hear me, sirrah?" he exclaimed again; "I speak to you, William
Penn. You and others have unlawfully and tumultuously been assembling
and congregating yourselves together for the purpose of creating a
disturbance of the peace, to the great terror and annoyance of His
Majesty's liege people and subjects, and to the ill example of all
others; and you have, in contempt of the law of the land, been preaching
to a concourse of people whom you tumultuously assembled for the purpose
of instigating them to rebel against His Majesty the king and the
authorities of this city of London."
"Verily, thou art misinformed and mistaken, sir," answered the young
man, in a calm voice. "I neither created a disturbance, nor did I utter
words whereby any disturbance could have been created, while I have ever
been a loyal and dutiful subject of King Charles as His Majesty."
"Ho! ho! ho! you have come here to crow high, I warrant you," exclaimed
Sir Samuel Starling; "and your companion, Master Mead, will, I warrant,
declare himself equally innocent of offence!"
"Thou speakest truly, friend," answered Captain Mead; "I was the cause
of no disturbance, as all those present very well know; for no
disturbance indeed took place, while my principles forbid me to oppose
the authorities that be."
These calm answers only seemed to enrage Sir Samuel Starling, who,
heaping further abuse on the prisoners, exclaimed, "Take the varlets off
to the `Black Dog' in Newgate Market; there they shall remain in durance
till they are tried for their crimes at the Old Bailey, and we shall
then see whether this young cock-of-the-woods will crow as loudly as he
now does."
Young Wenlock could with difficulty restrain his father's indignation
when he heard this order pronounced by the city magistrate. He however,
managed to get him out of the court.
"We will go and see where they are lodged, at all events," said the
captain, who at length yielded to his son's expostulation. "Perchance I
may render my old friend Mead, and that noble young fellow Penn, some
assistance."