Having ascertained that a ship called the Robert, of five hundred tons burthen, belonging to Mr. Lawson, a wealthy Quaker of Lancaster, was lying at Sunderland—a small sea-port situated at the estuary of the Lune—Sir Henry went to Mr. Lawson to endeavour to negotiate with him for the use of the guns.
“When I tell you, Mr Lawson,” he said, “that those Cannon of yours will enable us to keep the rebels out of the town, I am sure you will let us have them.”
“Thou shalt have them on one condition, friend,” replied the Quaker. “And on one condition only.”
“Name it,” cried Sir Henry eagerly.
“Thou shalt give me a bond for ten thousand pounds to insure my ship, the Robert, against any damage she may sustain from the rebels, when they learn I have parted with the cannon to be used against them.”
“Zounds! Mr. Lawson,” exclaimed Sir Henry, “excuse my swearing—but you are enough to provoke a saint—how the deuce can you expect me to agree to such absurd conditions? I refuse them. Moreover, I tell you as a magistrate, that the cargo on board the Robert shall at once be seized, unless you consent to surrender the cannon. Now, Sir, what have you to say to that?”
After a moment's reflection, the Quaker replied:
“I have simply to say, friend, that I agree.”
“I am glad to hear it,” observed Sir Henry. “You will deserve the thanks of your fellow-townsmen.”
“But recollect, friend,” said the Quaker, “that the cannon will be of no use to thee, unless thou hast sufficient men to cover the town. Thou hast six hundred militiamen at Preston. Thou must bring them forthwith to Lancaster. There is also, unless I am misinformed, a regiment of dragoons at Preston, commanded by Colonel Stanhope. They would be useful here.”