tinkling brass, but
we have the instrument wherewith Providence hath endowed us. Let us show
the redcoats that we know how to use it.

"Who then dreads the violent,
Or fears the man of pride?
Or shall I flee from two or three
If He be by my side?"'

Seven score voices broke in, in a hoarse roar, upon the chorus--

'Who then fears to draw the sword,
And fight the battle of the Lord?'

I could well believe at that moment that the Spartans had found the lame
singer Tyrtaeus the most successful of their generals, for the sound of
their own voices increased the confidence of the country folk, while the
martial words of the old hymn roused the dogged spirit in their breasts.
So high did their courage run that they broke off their song with a
loud warlike shout, waving their weapons above their heads, and ready I
verily believe to march out from their barricades and make straight for
the horsemen. In the midst of this clamour and turmoil the young dragoon
officer, a handsome, olive-faced lad, rode fearlessly up to the barrier,
and pulling up his beautiful roan steed, held up his hand with an
imperious gesture which demanded silence.

'Who is the leader of this conventicle?' he asked.

'Address your message to me, sir,' said our leader from the top of
the waggon, 'but understand that your white flag will only protect you
whilst you use such language as may come from one courteous adversary to
another. Say your say or retire.'

'Courtesy and honour,' said the officer, with a sneer, 'are not extended
to rebels who are in arms against their lawful sovereign. If you are the
leader of this rabble, I warn you if they are not dispersed within five
minutes by this watch'--he pulled out an elegant gold time-piece--'we
shall ride down upon them and cut them to pieces.'

'The Lord can protect His own,' Saxon answered, amid a fierce hum of
approval from the crowd. 'Is this all thy message?'

'It is all, and you will find it enough, you Presbyterian traitor,'
cried the dragoon cornet. 'Listen to me, misguided fools,' he continued,
standing up upon his stirrups and speaking to the peasants at the
other side of the waggon. 'What chance have ye with your whittles and
cheese-scrapers? Ye may yet save your skins if ye will but deliver up
your leaders, throw down what ye are pleased to call your arms, and
trust to the King's mercy.'

'This exceedeth the limitations of yo