“You mean that men blame his Majesty?”
“No, Angela. But when our ships were blazing at Chatham, and the Dutch triumphing, the cry was ‘Oh, for an hour of old Noll!’ Charles has played his cards so that he has made the loyalest hearts in England wish the Brewer back again. They called him the Tiger of the Seas. We have no tigers now, only asses and monkeys. Why, there was scarce a grain of sense left in London. The beat of the drums calling out the train-bands seemed to have stupefied the people. Everywhere madness and confusion. They have sunk their richest argosies at Barking Creek to block the river; but the Dutch break chains, ride over sunken ships, laugh our petty defences to scorn.”
“Dear sir, this confusion cannot last.”
“It will last as long as the world’s history lasts. Our humiliation will never be forgotten.”
“But Englishmen will not look on idle. There must be brave men up in arms.”
“Oh, there are brave men enough—Fairfax, Ingoldsby, Bethell, Norton. The Presbyterians come to the front in our troubles. Your brother-in-law is with Lord Middleton. There is no lack of officers; and regiments are being raised. But our merchant-ships, which should be quick to help us, hang back. Our Treasury is empty, and half the goldsmiths in London are bankrupt. And our ships that are burnt, and our ships that are taken, will not be conjured back again. The Royal Charles carried off with insulting triumph! Oh, child, it is not the loss that galls; it is the dishonour!”
He took a draught of claret out of the tankard which Angela placed at his elbow, and she carved the ham for him, and persuaded him to eat.
“Is it the public misfortune that troubles you so sadly, sir?” she asked, presently, when her father flung himself back in his chair with a heavy sigh.
“Nay, Angela, I have my peck of trouble without reckoning the ruin of my country. But my back is broad. It can bear a burden as well as any.”
“Do you count a disobedient daughter among your cares, sir?”