
Hendon took him by the hand, now, made reverence to the justice, and the
two departed in the wake of the constable toward the jail.  The moment
the street was reached, the inflamed monarch halted, snatched away his
hand, and exclaimed--

“Idiot, dost imagine I will enter a common jail _alive_?”

Hendon bent down and said, somewhat sharply--

“_Will_ you trust in me?  Peace! and forbear to worsen our chances with
dangerous speech.