"The king," observed the clergyman upon Gordon's right, "has no power to interfere in the resolutions of Parliament and in the legal vote." "Is he prevented," burst out Reuben impetuously, "when some policy of his own is at stake, or when he wishes to depose some minister who has displeased him?" Thereupon the tanner boldly advanced. "The king is playing us false!" said he. "A while ago he went to dinner with Lord Petre. Now, do you know who this Lord Petre is? A determined papist! He is the grand-nephew of that same Father Petre who brought to the palace in a warming-pan that miller's son whom they presented as the Prince of Wales, and whom they have since called the knight of Saint George!" "That's neither here nor there." "Wait!" continued the tanner with unruffled obstinacy. "When one is the friend of a papist, one is nigh to becoming a papist. Who knows whether the king is not already baptized!" "It is certain in any case," interrupted Reuben, "that we have only ourselves to depend upon. Unless we intimidate the House of Commons the law will be passed." "Yes," assented Lord George, "that is the truth. I have given notice that on Friday I intend to lay our petition before Parliament, and that I shall have two hundred thousand men to back me. You don't propose to fail me, do you?" "Certainly not!" cried the clergyman. "Each one of us is good for ten thousand; we will answer for our neighborhoods." "Will the Methodists march?" inquired Reuben. "Every mother's son of them," replied a voice. "John Wesley has declared against tolerance." "In that case," said Gordon, "success is assured. We will meet at Saint George's Fields at ten o'clock; there the final arrangements will be made. Neglect no detail, brothers, which will tend to make our manifestation imposing, grand, and irresistible. Infiltrate every soul with the fire which animates you. Let the voice of the people, which is the voice of God, be heard. For a century pious England has slept, lulled by the indifference of mechanical practices, mercantile preoccupations, ambitious intrigues, and worldly pleasures. The sun of the morrow should shine upon her awakening, and this awakening should be so sudden, so powerful, as to terrify the enemies of God. Let our warcry be that of our ancestors, 'To your tents, O Israel!'" "Brothers," said the clergyman in his turn, "let us intone the song of the Hebrews, when God delivered them out of the land of Egypt,--_Cantemus Domino_!" They sang, always _sotto voce_, but the sustained accent of those deep voices lent to the terrible words their full energy.