All sorts of rumors were afloat about the men the prince had brought with him. It was said that they were a race of giants; that they carried such arms and accoutrements as had never been seen before; that some of them were savages from the far north where the sun never shone and the ocean was frozen solid. The people of Exeter, whose notions of armies were taken from the lawless rabble of Monmouth or the more highly organized rapacity and ruffianism of Kirke's band, began to anticipate with terror the entrance of the troops into the city. But all the rumors which came from the now rapidly advancing army concurred in saying that the soldiers were under the strictest discipline, took nothing without paying for it, and were civil to all who came in their way. "Only think, madam," said a young servant one morning, "they say the prince has two or three hundred blackamoors with him—real blackamoors from the Indies!" "Well," said Lady Peckham, not at all discomposed by the news, "I dare say they are harmless enough." "I cannot help liking blackamoors!" said Paulina. "Poor Jack, my father's black, was so good when we were all ill!" "They are good and bad, like other people, I suppose!" said Lady Peckham. "I do not think you have any cause for fear, Dolly. Only attend to your work, and all will go well enough." "Poor Dolly!" said Winifred, laughing, as the girl retreated. "She seems rather disappointed that her story has made no more stir." "Yes, people of her sort have a great fondness for horrors. But I do not think there is any cause for alarm. The prince himself, I am well advised, will be here to-morrow or the next day, and no disorder is likely to go on in his neighborhood!" The next day but one all Exeter was in the street or at the windows. The houses were hung with tapestry or ornamented with flowers to welcome the man who had come to save England from popish domination. Lady Peckham's house, in the principal street, by which the prince must pass to the lodgings assigned him, had its windows crowded with gazers, but one little balcony was reserved for Lady Peckham herself and her family. And not a few eyes turned from the crowds in the street to rest upon the stately figure of the widowed lady, supported by her two young cousins, both so lovely and in such different styles. Peace of mind and improving health had brought the carnation to Paulina's cheek and the light to her dark eyes. Winifred was outwardly calm and pale as usual, but her mind was in a flutter of expectation of she knew not what. She told herself again and again that she had nothing to look for, that Lord Carew was and could be nothing to her, that she owed it to herself and to her lady to think no more about him. But not the less did her heart bound every time the thought crossed her mind that she might perhaps see him again before she slept. "Here they come at last!" said Lady Peckham. "I hear the music; and see, the crowd parts! Who comes first?"