"Aye, that I have. If we succeed, who can tell what we may not accomplish? These cruel lagging wars that keep corn beyond our reach, and are useful only to find riches and glory for the ruling families of the land, shall finish. The toiling masses of England shall clasp in friendship the hand of the uprisen people of France. We will drive from office and power those lords and landowners who for centuries have battened on the poor and used the great resources of this country, wrung from the helpless taxpayer, as their own privy purse. We will establish a Parliament in which the poor man's voice will be heard. We will sound the death knell of privilege and inequality; we will herald the glorious reign of equality and righteousness. And if we fail, why then, Ben, we shall have died in a glorious cause, and George Mellor for one would rather shed his blood in such a cause than sit mute and consenting, a crushed and heartless unit of a people hugging its own chains. Dost like the picture, Ben?" "I'm with yo' George, in an open fight, tho' I seem to feel a rope round my neck as I say it. But, for heaven's sake, George, get into th' open as soon as tha' can. For aw've forgotten how to hold up mi head an' look th' market in th' face even sin' aw first put on a mask an' dodged behind a hedge at the sound of a trooper's horse. Tha's cozened mi again, George. Aw came to get out o' a conspiracy an' tha's nobbut pledged me to rebellion. I'm out o' th' frying pan into th' fire, wi' a vengeance. But at least I'st have mi own self respect, an' that's summot gained." "Spoken like thi own self, Ben, an' now lets talk o' Saturday neet, an' no more looking back, an' yo' love me, lad." CHAPTER VIII.