"I must be true to myself, mother, first of all, in spite of all the kings of earth; and I feel that duty and honor call me to the side of my friends and the people of this commonwealth. I have hesitated long, mother, in deference to you, but now I have decided." "And you turn against two mothers, Hilary, when you take this course,--old England, the mother country, and this one, this old mother, who stands before you, who has given you her heart, who has lived for you, who lives in you now, whose devotion to you has never faltered; she now humbly asks with outstretched arms, the arms that carried you when you were a baby boy, that you remain true to your king." "Nay, but, mamma," he said, calling her by the sweet name of his boyhood, taking her hand and looking down at her tenderly with tear-dimmed eyes full of affection, "one must be true to his idea of right and duty first of all, even at the price of his allegiance to a king; and, after all, what is any king beside you in my heart? But I feel in honor bound to go with my people." The irresolution was gone from his expression now, and the two determined faces--one full of pity, the other of apprehension--confronted each other. CHAPTER VII _The Loyal Talbots_ "Your people, son?" she said after a long pause. "Come with me a moment." She drew him into the brilliantly lighted hall. As they entered, he said to the servant in waiting,-- "See that my bay horse is saddled and brought around at once, and do you tell Dick to get another horse ready and accompany me; he would better take the black pony." "Are you going out, Hilary?" "Yes, mother, when our conversation is over, if there is time. I thought to ride over to Colonel Wilton's. The night is pleasant, and the moon will rise shortly. What were you about to say to me?" She led him up to the great open fireplace, on the andirons of which a huge log was blazing and crackling cheerfully. Over the mantel was the picture of a handsome man in the uniform of a soldier of some twenty years back. "Whose face is pictured there, Hilary?" "My honored father," he answered reverently, but in some surprise. "And how died he?" "On the Plains of Abraham, mother, as you well know." "Fighting for his king?" "Yes, mother." "And who is this one?" she said, passing to another picture. "Sir James Talbot; he struck for his king at Worcester," he volunteered.