oor, Fox strode boldly
back into the centre of the town of Ulverston with his persecutors,
like a crowd of whipped dogs, following him at his heels. Yet still
they snarled and showed their teeth at times, as if to say, they would
have him yet if they dared. Right into Ulverston market-place he came,
and a stranger sight the old grey town, with its thatched roofs and
timbered houses, had surely never seen. In the middle of the
market-place the one other courageous man in the town came up to him.
This was a soldier, carrying a sword.

'Sir,' said this gallant gentleman, as he met the bruised and bleeding
Quaker, 'I am ashamed that you, a stranger, should have been thus
ill-treated and abused, FOR YOU ARE A MAN, SIR,' said he. Fox nodded,
and a smile like wintry sunshine stole over his worn face. Silently he
held out his hand. The soldier grasped it. 'In truth, I am grieved,'
he repeated, 'grieved and ashamed that you should have been treated
like this at Ulverston. Gladly will I assist you myself as far as I
can against these cowards, who are not ashamed to set upon an unarmed
man, forty to one, and drag him down.'

'No matter for that, Friend,' said Fox, 'they have no power to harm
me, for the Lord's power is over all.' With these words he turned and
crossed the crowded market-place again, on his way to leave the town,
and not one of the people dared to touch him.

But, as everyone prefers both to be defended himself and to defend
others with those weapons in which he himself puts most trust, the
soldier very naturally followed Fox, in case 'the Lord's power' might
also need the assistance of his trusty sword.

The mob, seeing Fox well protected, turned, like the cowards they
were, and fell upon the other 'friendly people' who were standing
defenceless in the market-place and beat them instead. Their meanness
enraged the soldier. Leaving Fox, he turned and ran upon the mob in
his turn, his naked rapier shining in his hand.

'My trusty sword shall teach these cravens a lesson at last,' he
thought. Quick as he was, Fox was quicker. He, too, had turned at the
noise, and seeing his defender running at the crowd, and the sunshine
dancing down the steel blade as it gleamed in the air, he also ran,
and dashed up the soldier's weapon before it had time to descend. Then
taking firm hold of the man's right hand, sword and all, 'Thou must
put up thy sword, Friend,' he commanded, 'if thou wilt come along with
me.' Half sulkily