"Nay, that is for you to decide. I should say, were I a man, that I could always find a where—in the King's army."
Anthony laughed scornfully. "In the King's forces, that on the accession of the Duke of York will be employed to put down the Protestants, and treat them as they have been treated in Savoy and in France? No, Urith, not at your wish will I do that; but if the Duke of Monmouth or the Prince of Orange were——"
Urith held up her hand. In at the door came her uncle, red and wine-flushed, carrying his viol.
"Halloo!" shouted Mr. Solomon Gibbs, "in vino veritas. Hussey, you don't understand Latin. I have learnt something—slipped out unawares from Moorman Ever. To-morrow—What think you? A Drift."
"A Drift!" For the moment Urith forgot all about the presence of Anthony, in the excitement of the announcement.
"A Drift!" Anthony tossed up his head and clasped his hands, and forgot Urith and all else, for a moment, in the excitement of the announcement.
"Ay," said Uncle Solomon; "and Tom Ever would have bitten out his tongue when he said it, he was so vexed."
CHAPTER XIX. A DRIFT.
A Drift? What is a Drift?