force, king and king, might makes right."

A deep breath, like a groan, went through the assembly.

Up rose Master John Stokton, the mercer. He rose, trembling from limb
to limb.

"Worshipful my lord mayor," said he, "it seems to me that our first
duty is to look to our own selves!"

Despite the gravity of the emergence, a laugh burst forth, and was at
once silenced at this frank avowal.

"Yes," continued the mercer, turning round, and striking the table
with his fist, in the action of a nervous man--"yes; for King Edward
has set us the example. A stout and a dauntless champion, whose whole
youth has been war, King Edward has fled from the kingdom. King
Edward takes care of himself,--it is our duty to do the same!"

Strange though it may seem, this homely selfishness went at once
through the assembly like a flash of conviction. There was a burst of
applause, and, as it ceased, the sullen explosion of a bombard (or
cannon) from the city wall announced that the warder had caught the
first glimpse of the approaching army.

Master Stokton started as if the shot had gone near to himself, and
dropped at once into his seat, ejaculating, "The Lord have mercy upon
us!" There was a pause of a moment, and then several of the
corporation rose simultaneously. The mayor, preserving his dignity,
fixed on the sheriff.