“I say, are you going mad?”
“Yes, with excitement. Frank, the game has begun, and we must throw up everything now, and join hands with the good men and true who are going to save our country.”
“Bah! You’ve got one of your fits on again,” cried Frank contemptuously; “what a gunpowder fizgig you are!”
“Look here!” said Andrew, in an angry whisper; “this is no time for boyish folly. We must be men. The crisis has come, and this miserable sham reign is pretty well at an end.”
“The Prince is in yonder,” said Frank warningly.
“Prince!” said Drew contemptuously; “I know no Prince but James Francis Stuart. Now, listen; there must be no shilly-shallying on your part; we want every true patriot to draw the sword for his country.”
“Ah well, I’m not what you call a true patriot, and so I shan’t draw mine.”
“Bah!” ejaculated Drew.
“And bah!” cried Frank. “Don’t you play the fool,—unless you want some one to hear you,” he continued, in a warning whisper.
“What do I care? I have had great news from my father, and the time has at last come when we must strike for freedom.”