this is a case of felony, and the gentleman seems something
impatient, the charge is _contra pacem domini regis_"--

"D--n _dominie regis!_" said the impatient Justice--"I hope it's no
treason to say so; but it's enough to made one mad to be worried in this
way. Have I a moment of my life quiet for warrants, orders, directions,
acts, bails, bonds, and recognisances?--I pronounce to you, Mr. Jobson,
that I shall send you and the justiceship to the devil one of these
days."

"Your honour will consider the dignity of the office one of the quorum
and custos rotulorum, an office of which Sir Edward Coke wisely saith,
The whole Christian world hath not the like of it, so it be duly
executed."

"Well," said the Justice, partly reconciled by this eulogium on the
dignity of his situation, and gulping down the rest of his
dissatisfaction in a huge bumper of claret, "let us to this gear then,
and get rid of it as fast as we can.--Here you, sir--you, Morris--you,
knight of the sorrowful countenance--is this Mr. Francis Osbaldistone the
gentleman whom you charge with being art and part of felony?"

"I, sir?" replied Morris, whose scattered wits had hardly yet reassembled
themselves; "I charge nothing--I say nothing against the gentleman,"

"Then we dismiss your complaint, sir, that's all, and a good riddance--
Push about the bottle--Mr. Osbaldistone, help yourself."

Jobson, however, was determined that Morris should not back out of the
scrape so easily. "What do you mean, Mr. Morris?--Here is your own
declaration--the ink scarce dried--and you would retract it in this
scandalous manner!"

"How do I know," whispered the other in a tremulous tone, "how many
rogues are in the house to back him? I have read of such things in
Johnson's Lives of the Highwaymen. I protest the door opens"--

And it did open, and Diana Vernon entered--"You keep fine order here,
Justice--not a servant to be seen or heard of."

"Ah!" said the Justice, starting up with an alacrity which showed that he
was not so engrossed by his devotions to Themis or Comus, as to forget
what was due to beauty--"Ah, ha! Die Vernon, the heath-bell of Cheviot,
and the blossom of the Border, come to see how the old bachelor keeps
house? Art welcome, girl, as flowers in May."

"A fine, open, hospitable house you do keep, Justice, that must be
allowed--not a soul to answer a visitor."

"Ah, the knaves! they reckoned themselves secure of me for a couple of
hours--But w