Thereupon he fixed his glance resolutely upon the countenance of the corporal and burst forth into an eloquent reference to the triumph of the supporters of the Lord’s Anointed, as represented by the king’s troops in the late battle, and the downfall of his enemies. Presently he became uncomfortably aware that Lady Cicely Winslow was weeping silently into her kerchief, while many of his parishioners at the back of the building were giving vent more noisily to their grief. The faces of the men were dark with anger, and below him the figure of Mistress Barbara grew more and more erect, her head thrown back, her lips pressed tightly together, and her eyes flashing upon him glances of indignation and scorn. The preacher hastily diverted the flow of his discourse into a cautious condemnation of rebellion in general, but was again driven forward by the threatening glances of the corporal to particularise and condemn more thoroughly. Now, however, he was interrupted by a sharp fit of coughing from Barbara, loud and aggressive, which ceased when he paused, and when he continued broke out with new vehemence. For full three minutes the struggle continued, till Cicely’s whispered entreaties induced Barbara to allow the unfortunate preacher to proceed in peace. Alas! his nerves were now unstrung, his thoughts hopelessly astray. Desperately he grasped at a last straw and sought to compromise. Truly, he protested, rebellion is as the sin of witchcraft, and rebels are ever to be abhorred. (This to soothe the corporal.) But had not many rebelled in ignorance, led astray by misrepresentations, by wolves in sheep’s clothing, and for such there was not condemnation, but pity. This appeared to the worthy doctor an excellent position to adopt, and for the remainder of his discourse this position he maintained, endeavouring by appreciative references to the noble supporters of justice on the one hand, and by an attitude of tender consolation towards the rebels on the other, to satisfy both sections of his congregation. But to Mistress Barbara Winslow such a compromise appeared nothing short of direct insult. Condemnation as a rebel she could endure, but pity as an ignorant fool incapable of judging her own path, she felt was more than any maid should be called upon to accept in silence, and but for Cicely’s restraining hand and entreating whispers she would have left the church. In deference to her cousin’s feelings she remained, but her indignation was so apparent that the unfortunate pastor could not continue, and bringing his discourse to an abrupt and bewildered conclusion he withdrew from the pulpit. When Barbara rose to leave the church she was a confirmed rebel. Hitherto she had taken but small interest in the great rising, except in so far as it concerned her brother, and had certainly been no ardent supporter of Monmouth, but the worthy doctor’s discourse had aroused in her a keen feeling of anger and opposition.