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"Ay, ay," said Nat. with an approving nod of the head.

"Why, you chicken-hearted cravens !" exclaimed Sir John, addressing Charnley and Waynfleet, "what the devil are you frightened at? Our enterprise, I tell you, must and shall succeed; our friends are staunch, the accounts from London are every day more favourable, and as to this raw-head, and bloody-bones,this bugaboo woman in black,—this witch, this hag, this polecat, I care not a rush for her Bedlamite freaks, for in another week the rising will take place, and we shall have the game in our own hands. However, if you wish to turn tail, do so, o' God's name, while you can escape scot-free; but as to me, on I go, though Beelzebub himself should stand in my path, and shake his horns at me as I proceed."

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'Speak not so irreverently, Sir John," said the Chaplain-"resist the devil, saith the Scripture, and he shall flee from you."

"Well, I am resisting him in this enterprize, an't I?-doing my best to trample him down with all the false prophets and fanatics whom he has lifted up, and it is your duty as a minister of the true church, although an ejected one, to be aiding and abetting in the recovery of your rights."

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Nay," replied the Chaplain, not a little encouraged by this declaration of Sir John's object, as well as by the confidence of his tone, "I threw out the suggestion for your own consideration, not with any intention of withdrawing myself from so holy an enterprize, if it may be safely undertaken."

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"That was my only idea," cried Waynfleet. "And a stupid one it was," exclaimed Sir John, so let us lose no more time in palavering, but set to work in unloading the cart, like stout blades and willing." The end of the covered vehicle being now softly unbarred, several cases were withdrawn, carried through the

gate into the garden, and down a short flight of steps, at whose extremity was a door opening into a vault. By the lantern suspended at its entrance, other cases of the same description were seen inside, and as soon as the contents of the cart were deposited with these, Sir John locked the door, and concealed the entrance by throwing down earth, which he covered with a cucumber-frame, so as to conceal effectually the little flight of steps. Around this, some dung was carefully thrown up by the party, to make the deception perfect, and they then prepared to separate for the night. Culpepper was directed to drive the cart back to the forest, and leave it in its usual place, and Sir John having recommended Waynfleet and the Chaplain to take off their shoes and steal to their own apartments, without making the smallest noise, or even lighting a candle, so far disregarded the injunction in his own person, that when he reached his room, in which a lamp had been

left burning, he finished a flask of Hippocras spiced, before he retired to rest and so well was he satisfied with his liquor, as well as with the exploits of the night, that, while undressing, he kept singing to himself, although in a subdued voice, one of his cavalier songs :—

"A man that is arm'd

With liquor, is charm'd

And proof against strength and cunning;
He scorns the base humour of running -
Our brains are the quicker,

When season'd with liquor;

So let's drink and sing,

Here's a health to the King,

And I wish in this thing,

Both the Roundheads and Cavies agree.—

Sing hey! Trolly, lolly, loe!" *

* The snatches of old songs introduced here and elsewhere, are fragments of original ballads and lampoons that were current during the Civil Wars, or immediately after their conclusion.

CHAPTER II.

"He told me that Rebellion had ill luck,
And that young Harry Percy's spur was cold;
With that he gave his able horse the head,
And, bending forwards, struck his armed heels
Against the panting sides of his poor jade,
Up to the rowel-head; and starting so,
He seem'd in running to devour the way,
Staying no longer question."--

SHAKESPEARE.

THE heat of the weather, and the occurrence of the quarterly cattle-fair at East Grinstead, had occasioned a more than usual assemblage of rustic travellers at the Swan, a small publichouse in the obscure hamlet of Forest-Row, near the northern extremity of Sussex. At the

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