himself of Coventry and raise Warwickshire, and make a good stand in this county, if Essex should march hither: in that case, you see, we shall not need to quit Milverton; and the battle may be fought so near home, that even Kate will see how fit it is that I should be in the field. Gout or no gout, I can get as far as Stoneleigh Abbey, and meet his Majesty.” “I am afraid the King reckons without his host,” answered Juxon: “I doubt if the gates of Coventry will open more readily for him than those of Hull:--the citizens there are all for the parliament.” “The citizens of Coventry be hanged,” said Sir Charles: “they have only their own train bands to man the walls,--a set of knock-knee’d rascals:--why, a squib in their breeches would clear their market-place.” “Yes,” said Arthur; “and they would run like rats to their holes at the very clatter of a horse-hoof.” “Perhaps they might, Arthur,” said Juxon smiling; “but the matter will be to get this horse into the streets, and this squib into the market-place.” Sir Charles, who well knew that Juxon was no coward, bit his lips, and said, “Really I cannot think what is come to you, parson: you are always now a prophet of evil:--why the cause of the King would soon be down, if all had such faint hearts about it as you have.” “Faint hearts, sir, are fond of feeding on false hopes; stout hearts look at naked dangers without blenching. The notion that a rebellion of citizens can be put down by a few horses is foolish. It prevents, first, earnest preparations to subdue it; and, at last, when these are attempted, they prove too late, and altogether ineffectual.” “Well, Juxon, Sir Oliver here and I have done our parts, and shall do them to the last: your words don’t touch me; but I must say, you love to damp us; I hope, however, that the boy cares as little for you as I do.” “You need not to be rude as well as angry, Sir Charles.” “Rude! methinks you forget yourself!--a truce to all compliments. Did you not call me faint-hearted?” “Your memory is short indeed, Sir Charles, not to remember who first used the word.” “Come, come,” interrupted the old knight, “I wo’n’t have any falling out between friends. Are we not all king’s men, loyal and true? It may be, Sir Charles, that Juxon sees further into matters than we do; but his heart is with us.” “That may seem clear to you, Sir Oliver:--time will show us all men in their true colours: I have been right once before, and I may be right again.” “What do you mean?” asked Juxon, reddening with anger: “do you doubt my loyalty, sir?” The evil temper of Sir Charles was so strong within him, that, desirous only of vexing Juxon to the uttermost, he replied with a sneer, “You have taken care to secure yourself a friend in the enemy’s camp; so that your parsonage at Old Beech will be quite safe, come what may; and you mean to stick by it, as I am told.”