But as I knew several names beginning with that letter this information did not greatly help me; and though I was soon astonished that it had not done so, I could only shake my head and say:
"I cannot guess."
"Well, then, I will tell thee," said my father. "The Certain Person is none other than James, Duke of Monmouth."
This time I sprang up so vehemently that over went my chair and I came near to following it.
"What!" I cried. "Monmouth! That pretty fellow whom I saw five years ago at Colyton when he rode through the West so proudly, with thousands of fine gentlemen behind him?"
"The very same," replied my father gravely.
"But is he not an exile in the Netherlands?" I asked, amazed.
"That is his portion," said my father, looking mighty stern. "Or, rather, was."
"Then, what comes he here for?"
"To stir up rank rebellion; to play the fine Pretender; in a word, to try and wrest the crown from him who rightly wears it, to wit, his uncle, our King James."