CHAPTER II.

FOR THE KING.


It was late that evening when Sir Henry Furness returned from Oxford;
but Harry, anxious to hear the all-absorbing news of the day, had waited
up for him.

"What news, father?" he said, as Sir Henry alighted at the door.

"Stirring news, Harry; but as dark as may be. War appears to be now
certain. The king has made every concession, but the more he is ready to
grant, the more those Puritan knaves at Westminster would force from
him. King, peers, bishops, Church, all is to go down before this knot of
preachers; and it is well that the king has his nobles and gentry still
at his back. I have seen Lord Falkland, and he has given me a commission
in the king's name to raise a troop of horse. The royal banner will be
hoisted at Nottingham, and there he will appeal to all his loyal
subjects for aid against those who seek to govern the nation."

"And you think, sir, that it will really be war now?" Harry asked.

"Ay, that will it, unless the Commons go down on their knees and ask his
majesty's pardon, of which there is, methinks, no likelihood. As was to
be expected, the burghers and rabble of the large towns are everywhere
with them, and are sending up petitions to the Commons to stand fast and
abolish everything. However, the country is of another way of thinking,
and though the bad advisers of the king have in times past taken