At the mere sight of the enemy, Merrylips shrank back, but Rupert tightened his hold on her hand. He knew that there was no retreat for them now. With head up, he marched across the sanded floor, and halted at the bar. "A penny 'orth o' beer, sirrah, and see that thou dost skink it handsomely!" he said to the tapster, in his most manlike voice. Some among the soldiers chuckled, and the tapster grinned, as he handed Rupert the can of beer for which he had called. But Rupert bore himself manfully. He clanged down the one penny that Polly had given him, and then he strode to a bench. There he sat down and made Merrylips sit beside him. "Drink slowly," he bade beneath his breath. "By the time we are done, Kit Woolgar haply will be gone, and we can slip forth again in safety." But Merrylips had scarcely taken a sup of the beer, when one of the soldiers sauntered toward them. "By your coat, master, I judge ye are come hither to join our ranks," he said. His voice was grave, but his eyes were laughing. Clearly he did not think Rupert so much of a man as Merrylips thought him. Rupert flushed and took a swallow of beer, and Merrylips hung her head, but they could not hope to escape by keeping silent. The soldiers were idle and ready for sport. So they began to chaff the two children, roughly, but not altogether ill-humoredly. Like it or not, Rupert had to answer, but after his experience at Polly Woolgar's he was slow to make up stories. "We are come hither to fight, yes," he muttered. "To fight for the Parliament." "Good Parliament men, eh?" struck in one hulking fellow. All of a sudden he caught Merrylips by the shoulders and stood her on her feet. He thrust the can of beer into her hands. "Where's your civility, bantling?" said he. "Will ye wet your throat, and never a pious wish for the cause ye follow? Drink it off, come! Heaven speed the Parliament, and down wi' the wicked king!" Merrylips had raised the can to her mouth. She was too startled to dream of anything, except to obey. But as she heard those last words, she stopped and across the rim stared at the man. [Illustration: SHE STOPPED AND ACROSS THE RIM STARED AT THE MAN.] She had thought that she was going to drink. She feared that Rupert, who spoke so glibly of fighting for the Parliament, might think it like a girl, if she should refuse. But, in that second, while she faced the big musketeer in that dingy taproom, she seemed to stand in her own chamber at Larkland, in the fair days before ever Will Lowry came, and she seemed to hear Lady Sybil speak:-- "I would have thee more than a man, my Merrylips. I would have thee a gentleman." A gentleman! Surely a gentleman would not deny the cause that he served, no, not even to save his life! Merrylips breathed fast. She felt the heart leaping in her throat, but she thought of Lady Sybil. "I cannot drink it, sir! I will not drink!" she cried, and let the can fall clattering from her hold. "Will not?" the fellow shouted.