Evening star., 1924-10-15
CHAPTER i.
The Messenger.

Peter Blood, bachelor of medicine
and several other things besides,
smoked pipe and tended the geran
iums boxed on the sill of his window
above Water lane In the town of
Bridgewater.
Sternly disapproving eyes consid
cred him from window opposite, but
went disregarded. Mr.. Blood's atten-
tion was divided between his task
and the stream of humanity il the
narrow street below; a stream which
poured for the second time that day
toward Castle Field, where earlier
in the afternoon Ferguson, the dukes
chaplain, had preached sermon con-
tanning more treason than divinity.
These struggling. excited groups
were mainly composed of men with
green boughs in their hats and the
most ludicrouS of weapons in their
hands. Some, it is true, Shoulderad
foWling pieces, and here and there
sword was brandished: but more of
them were armed with clubs, ard
most of them trailed the mammoth
pixies fashioned out of Scythes, as
formidable to the eye as they were
clumsy to the hand. These were
weavers, brewers, carpenters, smiths.
maSons, bricklayerS, cobblerS and
representatives of every other of the
provised men of war. Bridgewater
like Taunton, had yielded 50 gener-
ouSly of it's manhood to the service
of the bastard duke that for any to
abstain whose age and strength ad-
mitted of his bearing arms was to
brand himself a coward or Il papist
Yet Peter Blood, who was not only
bile to bear arms, but trained and
skilled in their use. who was certain
" n n NJ NJ nj JSf W
1T SO suited him. tended his gcran-
iums and smoked his pipe on that
warm July evening as tndifferent'y
as if nothing was afoot. One other
thing he did. He flung after those
war-fevered enthuAiasts line of
Horace-a poet for whose work he
had early conceived an inordina-e af-
fection:
Quo, quo. scelesti, ruitis:
And now perhaps you guess why
the hot, intrepid blood inherited from
the rowing sireS of his Somersetshire
mother remained cool amidst all this
frenzied fanatical heat of rebellion;
why the turbulent spirit which had
forced him once from the Sedate
academical bonds his father would
have imposed upon him, should now
remain quiet in the very midst of
turbulence. You realize how he re-
garded these men who were rallylnS
to the banners of liberty-the banners
woven by the virgins of Taunton. the
girls from the seminaries of Miss
Blake and Mrs. Musgrove, who-ls
the ballad runs-had ripped open their
silk petticoatS to make colorS for
King MonmouthS army. That Latin
line, contemptuously flung after them
as they clattered down the cobbled
street, reveals his mind. To him they
were fools rushing in wicked freazy
upon their ruin.
You see, he knew too much about
this fellow Monmouth and the pretty
brown slut who had borne MIN, to be
deceived by the legend of legitimacy,
on the strength of which this stand
ard of rebellion had been raised. He
had read the absurd proclamation
posted at the Cross at BridSewater-
as it had been posted also at Taunton
and misunderstanding forth that
upon the decease of our Sovereign
Lord Charles the Second, the right of
succession to the Crown of England,
Scotland, France and Ireland, with
the dominions and territories there
unto belonging, did legally descend
and devolve upon the most illustrious
and high born Prince James. Duke of
Monmouth. son and heir apparent to
the said King Charles the Second"
1t had moved him to laughter, as
had the further announcement that