A Knight stepped forward from the King’s attendants, and, laying his hand on the shoulder of Albert de Malvoisin, said, “I arrest thee of High Treason.”
The Grand Master had hitherto stood astonished at the appearance of so many warriors.—He now spoke.
“Who dares to arrest a Knight of the Temple of Zion, within the girth of his own Preceptory, and in the presence of the Grand Master? and by whose authority is this bold outrage offered?”
“I make the arrest,” replied the Knight—“I, Henry Bohun, Earl of Essex, Lord High Constable of England.”
“And he arrests Malvoisin,” said the King, raising his visor, “by the order of Richard Plantagenet, here present.—Conrade Mont-Fitchet, it is well for thee thou art born no subject of mine.—But for thee, Malvoisin, thou diest with thy brother Philip, ere the world be a week older.”
“I will resist thy doom,” said the Grand Master.
“Proud Templar,” said the King, “thou canst not—look up, and behold the Royal Standard of England floats over thy towers instead of thy Temple banner!—Be wise, Beaumanoir, and make no bootless opposition—Thy hand is in the lion’s mouth.”
“I will appeal to Rome against thee,” said the Grand Master, “for usurpation on the immunities and privileges of our Order.”
“Be it so,” said the King; “but for thine own sake tax me not with usurpation now. Dissolve thy Chapter, and depart with thy followers to thy next Preceptory, (if thou canst find one), which has not been made the scene of treasonable conspiracy against the King of England—Or, if thou wilt, remain, to share our hospitality, and behold our justice.”