“St. Vincent,” he said, “do you remember the conversation we had a few days ago? Well, I am going to take your advice. I am an old man, most too old to begin, and it is ill work to teach an old dog new tricks, as the proverb says; but I shall do it, by the grace of God, I’ll do it.” He broke into a boisterous laugh. “Oh, it makes me feel young again. I’ve been like one gone mad, many a time of late. Somehow I feel free again. Your rough words the other day put new life into me. Thank you, Vincent, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. Perhaps you do not remember what you said. That is often the case with people who do more good by their stray acts than they know at the time. Ah, Vincent, you don’t know how far a little word sometimes reaches. Maybe it was only your tone at the time. At any rate, I have turned over a new leaf. Can you guess what I am going to do?” “No,” I answered. “I cannot.” “’Tis this: I am going to offer my household to the Earl in defense of the city.” He jerked this out in quick sudden breaths as if it hurt him to say it, and there was a tightening about his lips that seemed to indicate the struggle it had taken and was still taking to keep him up to this honorable resolution. But there was a doubt in my mind, however glad I was to see this change in a man whom I had given up as almost altogether bad. “Do you think he will accept your help?” I asked, putting my doubt into words. A shadow crossed his face. “I have thought of that. I know that my motives are likely to be misunderstood in the light of my past actions. But I must put up with that. A man can do no better than his best.” He made the sign of the cross and then sat square in the saddle again. We were now hard upon the Landport where workmen were still busy hanging the clumsy gates that had for so long a time been out of use. We rode through the open way and into the crooked streets of the city. In a moment they were swarming with people, come out to see the Red Band go by. Never before had it made such a fine appearance. Never before had the people tossed up their caps like one man and cried: “God save the good patroon, the defender of the city.” For rumor had gone hotfoot ahead of us and, somehow, the people were aware of the errand which had brought us to the city. They knew that the Red Band had come to fight for the town. Old hate was forgotten. The frequent brawls with the patroon’s sailors were not called to mind. And all went as merry as the bells of Trinity on a wedding day.