"Thank thee, grandmother," he said. "I will cherish it as a remembrance of my mother."
"And tell me," said she, "is it so, that thou art forever driven away from Hall, that thy father will take thy name, even, and give it to another, and that thou and thy children are forever to be shut off and cast away from all lot and inheritance in the place where thy forefathers have been?"
"It is even so," answered Anthony. "But hark!"
A horn was being blown in the street, and there was a tramp of running feet, and voices many in excitement.
"What can be the matter?" exclaimed Magdalen, going to the window. "Mercy on us! What must have taken place?"
Anthony ran out of the house. The street had filled; there were people of all sorts coming out of their houses, asking news, pressing inward toward the man with the horn. Anthony elbowed his way through the throng.
"What is this about?" he inquired of a man he knew.
"The Duke of Monmouth has landed at Lyme in Dorsetshire. Hey! wave your hat for Protestantism! Who'll draw the sword against Popery and Jesuitism?"
More news was not to be got. The substance of the tidings that had just come in was contained in the few words—the Duke has landed at Lyme; with how many men was not known. What reception he had met with was as yet unknown. No one could say whether the country gentry had rallied to him—whether the militia which had been called out in expectation of his arrival had deserted to his standard.