It was during one of these short breaks that the Duke held up his hand and said: "Remember, we have arms for all who join--that is, for any number." "Yes, yes," cried Ferguson, "for thousands! Muskets, pistols, armour plates, and swords for all! And will ye not look fine, my bonnie men? Arms for thousands, arms for thousands, as His Grace the Duke hath said!" Now this was very far from being true, as those who had to fight with scythes and sickles, bound on staves, were soon to prove; but now the statement was received with shouts of joy, and as the news passed out into the street a deafening babel rent the air. The Duke smiled glowingly; the chaplain waved his pen; while those in front, whose heads had spoilt my view, moved quickly to the table. At the same time Monmouth raised his eyes in my direction, looked at me enquiringly a moment, then, seeing that I did not move, held up a beckoning hand and said: "What now, young man? You are the very kind we need. Why, then, hold back? Are you not for us?" The chaplain’s pen stopped writing, and all eyes were turned upon me. Uncovering, I stepped up to the table. "No, my lord," I answered with a sweeping bow. "I am for neither side at present." "Ah, that is badly put, young man," said Monmouth smiling. "For, look you, friend, the middle of the road is empty in this matter." "Aye, verily," snapped Ferguson, casting a swift glance at me from beneath his ragged wig. "His Grace speaks truly. ’Choose ye this day whom ye will serve’--friend--as the Scripture hath it." "Methinks we sometimes twist the Scriptures to our use," I answered, staring at him fixedly. "Even a murderer might find some text to serve him if he searched for it," I added in a lower voice. "How now, friend?" put in Monmouth smilingly. "You come here fully armed, the very picture of the man we need, and yet you say you are for neither side! What, then, brings you hither?" "Mere curiosity, my lord; a wish to see, that is," I answered. "Or a wish to spy--which?" sneered Ferguson, stabbing his pen into the ink-horn. I was hard put to it to keep my fingers off his throat, and, indeed, I only saved myself by locking them behind me. Bending over him I answered slowly: "No, sir, I am no spy. I leave such dirty work for those whose nature suits them to it." The chaplain strove to hide a start by dipping savagely into the horn again, then cast a swift, uneasy glance at me, and said: "We are not here to deal in parables, but men, nor have we time to waste on empty words. If you be not for joining us, make way for those that are. Next! Next!" He waved his quill as though dismissing me. "Stay! one moment, friend!" cried Monmouth. "I pray you give your name, and say how ’tis that one so likely---- Aye, I would promise you a cornetcy--is that so, my lord?--(he turned to Grey, who nodded)--ah, yes, a cornetcy--if not a captaincy. How is it then, I say, that one so likely hesitates to join our righteous cause?"