“Why, yes, child, of course I must go,” he said, patting her shoulder caressingly. “’Tis my duty to try and keep the peace betwixt the soldiers and the village folk; I only trust they do not mean to stay here long. Let supper be made ready, for whether they be friends or foes we are bound by holy writ to feed them if they hunger. I’ll warrant, though, that you’d like to pepper the broth till it choked them!” And with a laugh he went out, his eyes twinkling with humour at the thought of pretty Hilary with her vehement hatred of Parliamentarians getting ready the best evening meal that the house could provide. CHAPTER XXXI. “Nor tasselled silk, nor epaulette, Nor plume, nor torse; No splendour gilds, all sternly met, Our foot and horse. “In vain your pomp, ye evil powers Insult the land; Wrongs, vengeance, and the cause are ours, And God’s right hand!” --Elliott. The entry of Massey’s men had been watched with eager eyes by one inhabitant of Bosbury. The moment he learnt that the soldiers were at hand, Peter Waghorn laid aside his tools and hasting down the street, eagerly awaited the approach of the officers who brought up the rear. There was a brief delay of the cavalcade just as the officers rode up to the place where he stood, and Waghorn, with a heartfelt ejaculation of thanks, raised his eyes to heaven. His breast heaved with emotion, though his strong, square-set face betrayed nothing but quiet determination. “Sir,” he said, approaching Massey, “may I crave your help, and entreat that you will spare your men for the pious work of destruction. There stands a cross, sir, in yonder churchyard--a popish cross. Bid your soldiers throw it down.” “My good fellow,” said Massey, “I have other work on hand just now, and the men need food and rest.” “It will not take long,” pleaded Waghorn. “It stands hard by, and, sir, as you know, Parliament hath expressly ordered the destruction of crosses, because the people do idolatrously bow down to them.” “Yes, ’tis true,” said Massey, who, as a matter of fact, cared for none of these things, and was more or less a soldier of fortune. “It shall be done some day, but not now. I am certain to be in the neighbourhood again. Ask me when I have more leisure.” Waghorn drew back, grievously disappointed. “He is not whole-hearted; my soul hath no pleasure in such. Yet he did help to defend the godly city of Gloucester, and maybe some other day I shall prevail with him. I must bide my time,” and, with a deep sigh, he returned to his house, and, falling on his knees, prayed fervently that he might be spared to do the Lord’s work, and to cast down every high thing that exalted itself against truth and righteousness.