He had never been so vexed in his life. It was not so much anger against
the King, for he had great reverence for the monarchy of England; but
against Lord Rippingdale his mind was violent. Years before, in a quarrel
between the Earl of Lindsey and Lord Rippingdale, upon a public matter
which Parliament settled afterwards, he had sided with the Earl of
Lindsey. The two Earls had been reconciled afterwards, but Lord
Rippingdale had never forgiven Enderby.

In Enderby's brain ideas worked somewhat heavily; but to-day his
slumberous strength was infused with a spirit of action and the warmth of
a pervasive idea. There was no darkness in his thoughts, but his pulse
beat heavily and he could hear the veins throbbing under his ear
impetuously. Once or twice as he rode on in the declining afternoon he
muttered to himself. Now it was: "My Lord Rippingdale, indeed!" or "Not
even for a King!" or "Sir John Enderby, forsooth! Sir John Enderby,
forsooth!" Once again he spoke, reining in his horse beside a tall cross
at four corners, near Stickford by the East Fen. Taking off his hat he
prayed:

"Thou just God, do Thou judge between my King and myself. Thou knowest
that I have striven as an honest gentleman to do right before all men.
When I have seen my sin, oh, Lord, I have repented! Now I have come upon
perilous times, the gins are set for my feet. Oh, Lord, establish me in
true strength! Not for my sake do I ask that Thou wilt be with me and Thy
wisdom comfort me, but for the sake of my good children. Wilt Thou spare
my life in these troubles until they be well formed; till the lad have
the bones of a man, and the girl the wise thought of a woman--for she
hath no mother to shield and teach her. And if this be a wrong prayer, my
God, forgive it: for I am but a blundering squire, whose tongue tells