Just then the reader of the declaration turned himself to get a better light, and the setting sun fell full upon his blotched, scorbutic cheek and made it look as though ’twere stained with blood. I gazed upon him spellbound for a moment, then I asked: "And prithee, who is he that reads?" The voice of my informant dropped into a solemn whisper, as though ’twere something sacred that he spoke of, as he answered: "That is Doctor Robert Ferguson, chaplain to Monmouth’s army, and a terror to all workers of iniquity." On hearing this I started round as though the man had struck me, and barely saved myself from crying out. "What’s that?" I gasped. "Ferguson the Plotter?" The fellow glowered upon me for a space, looking me up and down with angry eyes. "Thy tongue wags over free for one so young," snarled he at last. "Nay, Ferguson the godly. See how his face lights up with blazing zeal!" But that was enough for me. Gaining the outskirts of the crowd I hurried to the "George" to get my horse, pursued by such a hornet’s nest of wild, bewildering thoughts as fairly made my head sing. On coming near the jail I heard a great commotion going forward, and there, as I live, was Simon Jackson, the Nonconformist blacksmith, bare-armed and sledge in hand, raining fierce blows upon the stout, nail-studded door. He had already burst the town-hall open to make a storage place for Monmouth’s baggage, and was now bent on setting free his brother Nonconformists, who, as I have said, had lately been imprisoned by the Mayor. Even as I looked the door flew open with a crash, and out stepped half a score of white-faced, startled men, among them old Sampson Larke, the grey-haired Anabaptist minister. "There," methought as I turned away, "falls the pride and power of Master Gregory Alford!" I found the inn yard humming with excitement. Serving men and maids ran to and fro distracted; for the news had already reached outlying villages, and men poured in from every quarter, some armed and eager, others idly curious, but all of them hot and thirsty, and calling loudly to be served with ale: while on a top step stood the landlord, surveying the giddy sight like one bedazed. The name of Monmouth was on every lip, and each new-comer added to the din.