“What think you, sir?” said my mother. “Will the war soon come to an end?”
But at that he shook his head.
“Nay, madam,” said he, “I cannot answer that question, for I know not what to say. However, if I am to give an opinion, I should say that it will not. The issues are too great and the feeling too bitter for it to end yet. If it does end speedily it will only be by one party waiving its claims.”
“And neither will do that,” said Jack. “It will be war to the knife yet awhile. A sad enough thing it is, Mistress Dale, to have to cut your brother’s throat or fire an ounce of lead through his body, but that is what Englishmen are doing just now, and must continue to do, I fear.”
“Alas! a sad thing enough,” said my mother. “But what think you? Will the King prevail in this contest? We hear so much here that differs in opinion, some saying that the Parliament will win in the end, and some that the King will finally prevail over his enemies. What have you to say to it, sir?”
“A few months ago,” said Philip, “I should have answered your question with confidence, madam, for I could never have brought myself to believe that this land of England would have risen in open rebellion against the rightful monarch. Nay, I felt sure that his Majesty had only to erect his standard in order to secure the support of the greater portion of his people, before whose arm the malcontents would quickly yield. For Englishmen to rise against the throne they have built so carefully, seemed to me a most strange thing, and I felt assured that that bad feeling, if it did exist, could not exist long. And yet it would appear, madam, that the feeling of disaffection against his Majesty is deepening rather than lessening. I know not how it is: certain I am that he hath a kind heart and means well towards his subjects.”
“Yea,” said Jack, “a kind heart he hath, but a sad face. A sadder I never saw, and I have seen his some hundreds of times these last three months. He looks, Mistress Dale, as if he had no heart to smile, but is rather pondering on the fate that hath made him to be at war with his people. Now about politics I care naught and know little, but of this I am sure: I will fight for the King while ever there is any fight left in me, for it is my honest belief that he means well. Moreover, he is the King, which is good enough for a plain Englishman.”
“There are men nowadays, however,” said Philip Lisle, “who care naught for kings or priests, being persuaded that every man hath a right to judge for himself and please himself, and it is these men who are stirring up sedition against his Majesty. Now, I say this—every man hath a right to judge for himself between right and wrong, between what is bad and what is good in his own heart, but he hath no right to judge between himself and lawfully constituted authority. For as Holy Scripture saith—all power is of God, and according to that teaching, those who fight against the King do fight against God. I say this as a plain man who takes a plain meaning of Scripture.”
“Master Cromwell interpreteth not Scripture in that way,” said Jack. “Why, from what I hear he hath Scriptural warrant for everything he does. He is persuaded that the King is a common enemy to the people, and would, I doubt not, clap his Majesty into safe keeping, or even slay him as being such. They say that he fights with the Scriptures in one hand and the sword in the other.”
“Whatever the man is else,” said Philip Lisle, “he is a soldier and a great general. His regiment will make its mark whenever he leads it.”
“Yea, it will so!” said Jack. “It would do thee good, Will, to see these psalm-singing knaves who sing and slay with the heartiest goodwill. Finely drilled and equipped they are, and have their heart in their work, like Master Cromwell, their leader. I have heard that he will have no man in his company who does not make this war a personal matter. He wants naught of swashbucklers and suchlike, of which sort we have too many in our army—men who fight for fighting’s sake.”
“And what, sir, will be done,” asked my mother, “if the King’s Majesty doth not prevail in this war?”
“Nay, madam, I know not. Perhaps we shall be ruled by a Parliament, or maybe some of those who are now stirring up the country against the King will assume the King’s place.”
“And what would they do with the King?” said Lucy.
“Marry, child, there are men in England this day who would gladly cut off the King’s head and have done with him altogether. Yea, and would compass land and sea to do it. But what if they do? The King never dies, and if they slay Charles the First, Charles the Second will arise in his place. But much will come to pass ere ever these things happen. Meanwhile, let us be thankful we are with you again, safe and sound, save for a scratch or two.”
“I have an old father at home,” said Jack, rising from his chair, “and it is time I sought him. Will, come with me to the gate and see me depart.”
“Nay, I will ride with you, I said, and went and saddled our horses. I wanted to have a word or two with Jack in private. So I bade them leave the door open for me and set out with my old friend
