'"Yes, sir, I will tell you; my name is John Milton. I am the Latin Secretary to the Lord Protector's Council of State I came here to speak a single word, if, possibly, it may be in time, and not to bewilder you with a language that is dead, and that word is 'Beware!'"
'"Sir, you astonish me; we are loyal and peaceable people."
'"Who is the president of the Underground Spitfire Club, sir? Answer me that."
'I was utterly confounded, being myself that president. A dozen or so frolicsome young gentlemen had called themselves by that name, and established a club. They had foolishly bound themselves to secrecy, but their meetings were of a convivial and literary, and not of a treasonable, nature. This I explained to my questioner.
'"And who is your secretary?" asked Mr. Milton.
'"Banwell Reginald, sir."
'"Do you know," said he, lowering his voice, "what kind of man the Lord Protector is, and how he has but one remedy for those who hatch treason, and for those who are only suspected of it? Stay in your house! What your secretary would not make you acquainted with I acquaint you with. Stay in your house. I have fulfilled my mission. Show me to the door."
'"Sir," I said, "I am deeply grateful." But he quickly interrupted me.
'"Say no more. Do you use words to conceal or belie your thoughts? Are you one of a nest of traitors, agitators, and disturbers of the public peace, or are you not? You need not answer me. If you are conscious of being honest, and as loyal as your father was, give me you hand; if you know yourself to be otherwise, do not give it. For his sake I will take the risk, but stay in your house."
