Here Martin Geere presented himself again, and with new terror imprinted upon his countenance.
“What’s the matter now?” the colonel exclaimed. “I guess from thy looks that thou bring’st fresh tidings of ill.”
“I bring no good news, in sooth,” Martin replied. “There are two men without who crave admittance to your honour—crave, did I say?—nay, they insolently demand it. One of them is Thomas Sunne, the Brightelmstone deputy of the Committee for the Sequestration of Livings. His reverence knows him—”
“Too well,” Mr. Beard observed.
“The other I take to be a messenger, for he hath a warrant, and beareth a truncheon of office.”
“Ay, and he will use it on thy shoulders, sirrah, if he be kept longer here,” exclaimed a peremptory voice without.
And the next moment two personages stepped into the room. The foremost of them, who was he that had spoken, was of middle age, short and stout, and was somewhat showily attired in a blue doublet and scarlet cloak; the latter garment, however, was weather-stained, and had lost much of its original brilliancy. His doublet was embroidered with the badge of the Goldsmiths’ Company—a leopard’s head and a covered cup. His companion was an elderly man, with a sour, puritanical countenance, clad in sad-coloured raiments, and wearing a steeple-crowned hat. Neither of them uncovered their heads on entering the room.
“Ahem!” cried the foremost of the two, clearing his throat to enable him to speak more emphatically. “It is Wolston Maunsel, I surmise, before whom I stand?”
“Thou art in the presence of Colonel Maunsel, thou saucy knave,” the old Cavalier haughtily rejoined. “Who, and what art thou?”
“I am not bound to answer the interrogations of a known malignant like thee. Nevertheless, I will tell thee that my heathenish name was Lawrence Creek, but since I have put off the old man, I am known as Better Late than Never, a saintly designation, and one becoming an elder, like myself. I am an emissary unto thee, O Wolston Maunsel, from the Commissioners of Goldsmiths’ Hall, in Foster-lane, London, to whom, as thou knowest, thy forfeiture to the State hath been assigned, to summon thee to appear before the said commissioners within ten days to pay two hundred pounds for thy five-and-twentieth part of the fine which hath been set upon thee.”
“My fine hath been fully discharged,” the colonel said. “I have already paid the commissioners five thousand pounds.”
“That is no concern of mine,” the other rejoined. “Thou must appear before them to explain matters.”
“A pest upon thee!” the old Cavalier angrily ejaculated. “Thou art enough to drive a man distraught. I cannot stir hence. I have just received an order from the Council prohibiting me, on pain of imprisonment, from going more than five miles from home. Here is the warrant. Read it, and satisfy thyself.”
“It is no concern of mine,” the emissary replied, declining to look at the warrant. “I shall leave the order with thee. Neglect to obey it at thy peril.”
And, as he spoke, he placed a scroll on the table, and drew back a few paces, while the second individual stepped forward.
“My business is with thee, Ardingly Beard,” this personage said. “Thou knowest that I have been appointed, together with my colleague, Thomas Geere of Ovingdean, brother to Martin Geere, who still continues in the service of the dangerous malignant, Wolston Maunsel—”
“I am glad my brother Tom hath had the grace not to present himself before his honour,” Martin remarked.
“Thomas Geere was once one of my flock,” Mr. Beard observed, sadly.
“He hath seen the error of his ways,” Sunne rejoined. “But, as I was about to say, thou knowest that he and I have been appointed by the Committee for the Sequestration of Livings to collect, gather, and receive the tithes, rents, and profits of the benefice of the church of Ovingdean, now under sequestration, and to provide for its care. Thou knowest also how we have applied those profits.”
“I have some guess,” the clergyman observed. “Partly to your own use, partly in payment of Increase Micklegift.”
“Wholly in payment of that godly divine,” Thomas Sunne rejoined. “Now give heed to what I say unto thee, Ardingly Beard. It is suspected that thou continuest secretly to perform the rites and services of thy suppressed church. Take heed, therefore. If the offence be proved against thee, thou shalt pay with thy body for thy contumacy. A year’s imprisonment in Lewes Castle will teach thee submission.”
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