"Then, verily, father, thy coach and four will be out of place in the Valley of Decision," scoffed Fox. "Of what good canst thou be in an army—in a battle—if unable to mount a horse? Stay at home, and let the storm of war blow across the sky. If thou wantest Scripture to justify thee, here it is: 'Rebellion is as the sin of witchcraft.'"
"The cause of true religion is in jeopardy," retorted the father. "I know what is right to be done, and I will do it. Go I must, for, though I cannot fight myself, my counsel may avail; and I bear to the Duke the very nerves of war." He pointed to the money-bags.
"I did not know thou hadst so much gold by thee, in the house," said Fox, going to the table, taking up, and weighing one of the bags.
"A hundred pounds in each," said his father; "and good faith! I had not the coin. There, thou art right. But it has fallen out that the Earl of Bedford has called to mind certain debts to me, or alleged debts for timber, wool, and corn, and has sent orders to the steward to pay me for the same in gold. The Earl—" he stopped himself. "But there, I will say no more. The money is not mine."
"What, no real debt?"
"I say nothing. I take it with me, whether mine or not signifies naught to thee; it goes to the Duke of Monmouth."
"It concerns me, father, for I want, and must have money. I am shortly to be married, and I cannot be as a beggar. I have sent to the College of Arms for licence to change my name, and that will cost me a hundred pounds. I want the money."
"I cannot let you have it."
"But it is here. Let me toll it."
"Never—get thee away, I cannot attend to thee now."