"How! how!--my lord, how's this?"

"Sir, the arrest you have made is as illegal as it is inhuman."

"Illegal, my lord!" said Mordicai, startled.

"Illegal, sir. I came into this house at the moment when your bailiff
asked and was refused admittance. Afterwards, in the confusion of the
family above stairs, he forced open the house-door with an iron bar--I
saw him--I am ready to give evidence of the fact. Now proceed at your
peril."

Mordicai, without reply, snatched up his hat, and walked towards the
door; but Lord Colambre held the door open--it was immediately at the
head of the stairs--and Mordicai, seeing his indignant look and proud
form, hesitated to pass; for he had always heard that Irishmen are
"quick in the executive part of justice."

"Pass on, sir," repeated Lord Colambre, with an air of ineffable
contempt: "I am a gentleman--you have nothing to fear!"

Mordicai ran down stairs; Lord Colambre, before he went back into
the room, waited to see him and his bailiff out of the house. When
Mordicai was fairly at the bottom of the stairs, he turned, and, white
with rage, looked up at Lord Colambre.

"Charity begins at home, my lord," said he. "Look at home--you shall
pay for this," added he, standing half-shielded by the house-door, for
Lord Colambre moved forward as he spoke the last words; "and I give