They walked out into the hall together, where two or three gentlemen stood booted and spurred. They uncovered their heads as soon as the other appeared; and one of them, advancing a step, addressed him, saying, "It is all clear, your grace, on the way to Taunton, and the intelligence in that quarter is satisfactory."

"Good," replied the other. "This want of cavalry is inconvenient. What says Mr. Dare as to the levies about Taunton?"

"He had not yet reached the town, my lord duke, when his messenger came away," was the reply; "but he promises much--more, I fear, than he will perform; for his reception in some of the small villages by the way has been so good, that he looks upon it as a conquered country already. He is a braggadocio, if ever there was one."

"He is a good creature, notwithstanding," replied the duke; "light and gay in danger, and cheerful in all circumstances--a little given to boast and assume, perhaps; but still his gayety and confidence throw a light upon our expedition, which I wish we had a little more."

"Shall I give any orders regarding the march to-morrow?" inquired the other gentleman.

"I think not," said Ralph's companion; "we must wait for these Taunton levies, or some surer information. It will not do to leave all resources behind us till we have the certainty of support in advance. But make yourself easy, gallant friend; time, I trust, will be our ally, and not our enemy."

There was something uncommonly easy and placable, though confident in the speaker's tone and manner; and Ralph, though he had divined from the first that he was speaking with the Duke of Monmouth, began to doubt whether his supposition was correct, for he had not calculated accurately how far adversity can tame both the highest and the lightest spirit.

After this brief conversation, they passed on through the house, speaking calmly and cheerfully of the various objects which it presented to their eyes, as if there were no such thing as strife, and warfare, and bloodshed in the world. The duke walked the suites of splendid rooms and the long-drawn-out lines of corridors as if he were treading the drawing-rooms of some peaceful palace, with a calm sort of meditative gentleness, not unmixed with dignity, which beseemed him well. In his whole demeanor, carriage, and appearance, he was every inch a prince; and his very abstinence from all reference to political topics seemed to Ralph a recommendation of his cause. He appeared as tranquilly confident of his rights as if nothing more was required than to show himself to win all hearts in his support. Had he always maintained this happy trust, he would have been a greater, a happier, perhaps a more successful man.

The duke asked several questions, however, tending to elicit his young companion's opinions; and, finding him a stanch Protestant, though of the Episcopal Church, and a strong enemy of all tyranny, civil or religious, he ventured gradually to allude distantly to his own enterprise, and to hint--without asking it--that the assistance of every gallant gentleman was an object he desired.

Ralph was silent, from very many varied motives. He gave neither encouragement nor the reverse, judging more sanely than the duke of the circumstances which surrounded them, and entertaining many doubts whether, if Monmouth, by one of those strange accidents which sometimes influence the course of great events, should succeed in dethroning James, his own elevation to sovereignty would be acceptable to the great body of the people of the realm. To himself, notwithstanding the fascination of Monmouth's manner, he felt that such would not be the case; and he knew that in the hearts of Englishmen there is a fund of steady, determined loyalty, a hereditary love for an ancient line of kings, which it requires the insanity of great oppression to shake or overthrew.