“You told me you could arm and equip two or three hundred men, cousin,” he said. “And I now perceive you did not exaggerate. But where are the men?” “I have but to ride to Alston Moor, my liege, to find them, and bring them back with me,” said Charles Rad-clyffe. “Men and arms are ready,” said the earl. “Shall we raise the standard?” he added, lifting up the flag. At this moment, as if in response to the appeal, shouts were heard outside, and several voices exclaimed: “Long live King James the Third!” “Is this premeditated, cousin?” said the prince. “No, by my faith,” replied the earl. “But it seems your majesty's presence has been discovered--how I know not. Shall I send away the troublesome varlets?” “'Twere needless, since the discovery has been made,” said the prince, who did not seem much displeased. “Your majesty need feel no uneasiness,” observed Father Norham, who formed one of the party. “There are no traitors at Dilston. All here are loyal, and would die rather than betray you.” “On that assurance I shall not hesitate to show myself to them,” said the prince. “Attend me, I pray you, cousin.” The massive door being thrown open, a singular spectacle was seen. In front of the tower was collected a large number of the household, with several out-door servants--grooms, gamekeepers, huntsmen, gardeners, and their assistants--most of them young and active-looking, though the coachman was old and stout, and there were three or four others, who must have lived in the family for half a century. But these were just as enthusiastic as their comrades. When the prince appeared another loud shout arose, and would have been renewed had not the earl commanded silence. “I thank you heartily, my good friends, for this manifestation of your zeal,” said the prince. “Do not imagine, because I have come hither in disguise, that I am afraid to trust myself with you, or, in the slightest degree, doubt your fidelity. The Earl of Derwentwater, your master, is my best friend, and dear to me as a brother. No one can live with him without sharing his sentiments. I could not, therefore, have any distrust. But I feared that in the excess of your zeal you might not keep guard upon your tongues, and I am very desirous that my landing in England, and arrival at Dilston, should not be known for the present. Secrecy, as you will easily understand, is essential to the success of my projects.” A murmur of delight arose from the assemblage, but further shouting was checked by Newbiggin, who, stepping forward, made a profound obeisance to the prince, and said: “Your majesty need fear no indiscretion on our part. I will answer for my fellow-servants. We know the importance of our trust.” “Ay, that we do,” cried several voices.