It was during one of these short breaks that the Duke held up his hand and said:
"Remember, we have arms for all who join--that is, for any number."
"Yes, yes," cried Ferguson, "for thousands! Muskets, pistols, armour plates, and swords for all! And will ye not look fine, my bonnie men? Arms for thousands, arms for thousands, as His Grace the Duke hath said!"
Now this was very far from being true, as those who had to fight with scythes and sickles, bound on staves, were soon to prove; but now the statement was received with shouts of joy, and as the news passed out into the street a deafening babel rent the air.
The Duke smiled glowingly; the chaplain waved his pen; while those in front, whose heads had spoilt my view, moved quickly to the table. At the same time Monmouth raised his eyes in my direction, looked at me enquiringly a moment, then, seeing that I did not move, held up a beckoning hand and said:
"What now, young man? You are the very kind we need. Why, then, hold back? Are you not for us?"
The chaplain's pen stopped writing, and all eyes were turned upon me. Uncovering, I stepped up to the table.
"No, my lord," I answered with a sweeping bow. "I am for neither side at present."
"Ah, that is badly put, young man," said Monmouth smiling. "For, look you, friend, the middle of the road is empty in this matter."
"Aye, verily," snapped Ferguson, casting a swift glance at me from beneath his ragged wig. "His Grace speaks truly. 'Choose ye this day whom ye will serve'--friend--as the Scripture hath it."