Here the men lifted up their voices and growled. Liberty begins with a growl; rage begins with a growl; fighting begins with a growl,—it is a healthy symptom for those who promote mischief.
‘Are they pretty, your old women?’ the orator went on. ‘Are they good-tempered? Are they pleasant to live with?’
There was another growl.
‘Men,’ cried Lord Chester, ‘we have borne enough. Wake up! We will end all this. We will marry the women we love—the pretty sweethearts who love us—the young girls who will make us happy. Who will follow me?’
Harry the keeper stepped to the front with a shout. Tom the blacksmith followed with a shout, brandishing his hammer. The cobbler pushed and shoved the men. Susan threw her arms round Tom’s neck and kissed him, crying, ‘Go and fight, Tom; follow his lordship. Come, all you that are not cowards.’
Two things happened then which determined the event and rallied the waverers, who, to tell the truth, were already beginning to expect their wives and sisters upon the scene.
The first was the appearance of Jack Kennion, followed by two men bearing a great cask of beer. Then tankards passed from lip to lip, and the courage which is said to belong to Holland rather than to England mounted in their hearts.
‘Drink about, lads,’ cried Jack. ‘Here! give me the mug. Hurrah for Lord Chester! Drink about. Hurrah!’
They drank—they shouted. And while they shouted they became aware of a tall and beautiful girl who came from the house and stood beside Lord Chester. Her lips were parted; her long hair flowed upon her shoulders; the tears stood in her beautiful eyes. She tried to speak, but for a moment could not.
‘Oh, men!’ she cried at last,—‘Men of England! I thank kind Heaven for this day, which is the beginning of your freedom. Oh, be brave! think not of your own wrongs only. Think of the thousands of men lingering in prison; think of all who are shut in houses, working all day for their unloved wives; think of the young girls who have lost their lovers; think of your strength and your courage, and fight—to the death, if needs be!’