A True Hero | Page 3

been wandering all this time; while, may be, we will have a talk of bygone days."
"With all my heart," answered Christison; "but tell me who is that noble youth addressing the people? He seems by his dress and bearing not one likely to utter such sentiments as are now dropping from his mouth!"
"Verily, he is not less noble in deed and word than in look," answered Mead. "He is William Penn, the son of the admiral who fought so well for the Commonwealth, and now serves a master about whom the less we say the better."
"I remember him well; a brave, sagacious man, but one who was ever ready to serve his own interest first, and those of his country afterwards. I should not have expected to find a son of his consorting with Quakers."
"No, verily; as light from darkness, so does the son differ from the father in spiritual matters," answered Mead. "The son has sacrificed all his worldly prospects for the sake of his own soul and for those of his fellow-creatures. In a righteous cause he fears no foes, temporal or spiritual; and is ready to lay down his life, if needs be, for the truth."
"A brave youth he must be, by my troth," observed Christison. "Wenlock, my boy, I pray Heaven you may be like him. I would rather have thee a thorough true-hearted man, than the first noble in the land."
At this moment, Mead, who had been stopped by the crowd from making his way towards the place where William Penn was speaking, saw an opportunity of advancing, and again moved forward, accompanied by his old friend and his son. There was, indeed, a general movement in the crowd, and voices in tones of authority were heard shouting, "Make way there; make way!" The people who uttered these cries were soon recognised as sheriffs' officers. They were advancing towards Penn. Their intention was evident.
"They are about to arrest him," said Mead; "but he has done nothing worthy of bonds."
"No, by my troth he has not," exclaimed Christison; "and I would gladly, even now, strike a blow for the cause of liberty, and rescue him from their power, if they attempt to lay hands on him."
"No, no, friend, put up thy sword," said Mead; "we 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