“Never mind that; but it’s my turn to talk. Suppose you get cut shorter for saying disloyal things under the window of the Palace.”
“Stuff! Rubbish!”
“Is it? They give it to the people they call rebels pretty hard for as trifling things,” said Andrew, flushing a little. “They flogged three soldiers to death the other day for wearing oak apples in their caps.”
“What? Why did they wear oak apples in their caps?”
“Because it was King Charles’s day; and they’ve fined and imprisoned and hung people for all kinds of what they call rebellious practices.”
“Then you’d better be careful, Master Drew,” said Frank merrily. “I say, my legs feel as if they were full of pins and needles, with standing about so much doing nothing. It’s glorious out here. Come along; I’ll race you to the end of this row of trees.”
“With the people who may be at the windows watching us! Where’s your dignity?”
“Have none. They wouldn’t know it was us. We’re not dressed up now, and we look like any one else.”
“I hope not,” said Andrew, drawing himself up.
Frank laughed, and his companion looked nettled.