e 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 gruf