"Peregrine Oakshott, so please you," the boy answered, raising
himself with a face scared indeed, but retaining its queer
impishness. "Sir, I never guessed--"

"Young rogue! have you our licence to waylay our loyal subjects?"
demanded the King, with an affected fierceness. "Know you not 'tis
rank treason to discrown our sacred Majesty, far more to dishevel or
destroy our locks? Why! I might behead you on the spot." To his
great amazement the boy, with an eager face and clasped hands,
exclaimed, "O sir! Oh, please your Majesty, do so."

"Do so!" exclaimed the King astounded. "Didst hear what I said?"

"Yes, sir! You said it was a beheading matter, and I'm willing,
sir."

"Of all the petitions that ever were made to me, this is the
strangest!" exclaimed Charles. "An urchin like this weary of life!
What next? So," with a wink to his companions, "Peregrine Oakshott,
we condemn thee for high treason against our most sacred Majesty's
beaver and periwig, and sentence thee to die by having thine head
severed from thy body. Kneel down, open thy collar, bare thy neck.
Ay, so, lay thy neck across that bough. Killigrew, do thy duty."

To the general surprise, the boy complied with all these directions,
never flinching nor showing sign of fear, except that his lips were
set and his cheek whitened. As he knelt, with closed eyes, the flat
cold blade descended on his neck, the tension relaxed, and he sank!