Now things were changed. Intoxicated with their success over the rebels, Lambert and Fleetwood, with the army-party, in a formal petition had made demands which it was impossible for the Rump to grant. Sir Arthur Haslerig, the hot-headed leader of the pure Republicans, had moved a vote of censure on Lambert, and Clarges was able to inform his brother-in-law that a breach was imminent. Monk at once instructed him to withdraw his resignation. He saw his duty clearly before him now, and waited quietly for news. The petition was forwarded to the Scotch army for signature, and its authors attempted to gain Monk over to their interest by the offer of supreme command of the foot, and the rank of general in the standing army which they meant permanently to establish. His reply was to absolutely forbid a man under his command to sign the obnoxious document. On September 27th another meeting of the English officers was held at which demands so extravagant were framed that the moderate men withdrew, and sent up to Monk imploring him to use his influence to prevent a breach. He did his best in a letter to Fleetwood. But no one knew better than he that the attempt was useless, and his brother was hurried off to London with Mary Monk and a secret message to Clarges. No military scruples perplexed the old soldier now. His duty to his paymasters and his duty to his country were one. His commission stood no longer in the way of his patriotism or his political creed, and he spoke at last with no uncertain voice; for Commissary Clarges was charged to assure the House that if they would only stand firm in asserting their authority over the army he would stand by them, and be ready, should the need arise, to march into England to their defence. With this message--the death-warrant of the English Revolution--Nicholas Monk reached London on October 11th. Over eleven years ago, in "the first year of freedom, by God's blessing restored," the chiefs of the army had met at Windsor to seek their duty from the Lord. In a long ecstasy of prayer and tears they had sought counsel of their God, and the answer came--the King must die. From that hour revolution had ridden triumphant on the shoulders of the army. But its day was done, its work was accomplished, and the most perfect soldier of them all had risen up to enforce the simple gospel of obedience. Prayer or no prayer, King or no King, the soldier's duty was to obey, and not to command.