He might, I said, have mistaken me for some other person; and I gave him what account I could of my situation and education, to correct such an error.

I supposed it next possible, that he might think me too weak for travelling, and not capable of taking care of myself; and I begged to assure him, that I was restored to perfect health, and quite able to endure the fatigue of a journey.
Lastly, I reminded him, in firm though measured terms, that the restraint which I sustained was an illegal one, and highly punishable by the laws which protect the liberties of the subject.

I ended by demanding that he would take me before a magistrate; or, at least, that he would favour me with a personal interview and explain his meaning with regard to me.
Perhaps this letter was expressed in a tone too humble for the situation of an injured man, and I am inclined to think so when I again recapitulate its tenor.

But what could I do?
I was in the power of one whose passions seem as violent as his means of gratifying them appear unbounded.

I had reason, too, to believe (this to thee, Alan) that all his family did not approve of the violence of his conduct towards me; my object, in fine, was freedom, and who would not sacrifice much to attain it?
I had no means of addressing my letter excepting 'For the Squire's own hand.' He could be at no great distance, for in the course of twenty-four hours I received an answer.