has been obtained by fraud or misrepresentation."

Some murmurs of applause followed this bold speech; but the gentleman
who had previously counselled the young man again interposed, and
whispered these words in his ear:--

"Your rash vehemence will undo you, if you take not heed. Beyond
question, Sir Giles hath the king's sanction for what he does, and to
censure him as you have done is to censure the Crown, which is next to
treason. Be ruled by me, my good young Sir, and meddle no more in the
matter."

Sir Giles, who had some difficulty in controlling his choler, now
spoke:--

"You have cast an imputation upon me, Jocelyn Mounchensey," he cried
with concentrated fury, "which you shall be compelled to retract as
publicly as you have made it. To insult an officer of the Crown, in the
discharge of his duty, is to insult the Crown itself, as you will find.
In the King's name, I command you to hold your peace, or, in the King's
name, I will instantly arrest you; and I forbid any one to give you aid.
I will not be troubled thus. Appointed by his Majesty to a certain
office, I exercise it as much for the benefit of the Royal Exchequer, as
for my own personal advantage. I have his Majesty's full approval of
what I do, and I need nothing more. I am accountable to no man--save the
King," addressing this menace as much to the rest of the company as to
Jocelyn. "But I came not here to render explanation, but to act. What,
ho! Madame Bonaventure! Where are ye, Madame? Oh! you are here!"

"_Bon jour_, sweet Sir Giles," the landlady said, making him a profound