behind him or a shade of change in his rugged face. As luck would have
it, no one was injured, not even Hosea, but the incident made me think
more highly of our new acquaintance. As he started off down the village
street, his long stringy figure and strange gnarled visage, with my
father's silver-braided hat cocked over his eye, attracted rather more
attention than I cared to see, considering the importance of the
missives which he bore, and the certainty of their discovery should he
be arrested as a masterless man. Fortunately, however, the curiosity of
the country folk did but lead them to cluster round their doors and
windows, staring open-eyed, while he, pleased at the attention which he
excited, strode along with his head in the air and a cudgel of mine
twirling in his hand. He had left golden opinions behind him. My
father's good wishes had been won by his piety and by the sacrifices
which he claimed to have made for the faith. My mother he had taught
how wimples are worn amongst the Serbs, and had also demonstrated to her
a new method of curing marigolds in use in some parts of Lithuania.
For myself, I confess that I retained a vague distrust of the man, and
was determined to avoid putting faith in him more than was needful.
At present, however, we had no choice hut to treat him as an ambassador
from friends.

And I? What was I to do? Should I follow my father's wishes, and draw
my maiden sword on behalf of the insurgents, or should I stand aside and
see how events shaped themselves? It was more fitting that I should go
than he. But, on the other hand, I was no keen religious zealot.
Papistry, Church, Dissent, I believed that there was good in all of
them, but that not one was worth the spilling of human blood.
James might be a perjurer and a villain, but he was, as far as I could
see, the rightful king of England, and no tales of secret marriages
or black boxes could alter the fact that his rival was apparently an