oreign prince, his
calm, supercilious attitude, broke the curb which religion had set upon
his passion.

"Aye! thou art mighty polite to me, my fine gentleman," he said
vehemently. "Thou knowest what I think of thy lazy foreign ways ... why
dost thou not do a bit of honest work, instead of hanging round her
ladyship's skirts? ... If I were to say a word to Sir Marmaduke, 'twould
be mightily unpleasant for thee, an I mistake not. Oh! I know what
thou'rt after, with thy fine ways, and thy romantic, lying talk of
liberty and patriotism! ... the heiress, eh, friend? That is thy
design.... I am not blind, I tell thee.... I have seen thee and her ..."

Sir Marmaduke laughed lightly, shrugging his shoulders in token of
indifference.

"Quite so, quite so, good master," he said suavely, "do ye not waste
your breath in speaking thus loudly. I understand that your sentiments
towards me do not partake of that Christian charity of which ye and
yours do prate at times so loudly. But I'll not detain you. Doubtless
worthy Mistress Lambert will be awaiting you, or is it the sick mare
down Minster way that hath first claim on your amiability? I'll not
detain you."

He turned as if to go, but Adam's hard grip was on his shoulder in an
instant.

"Nay! thou'lt not detain me--'tis I am detaining thee!" said the
blacksmith hoarsely, "for I desired to tell thee that thy ugly French
face is abhorrent to me ... I do not hold with princes.... For a prince
is none better than another man nay, he is worse an he loafs and steals
after heiresses and their gold ... and will not do a bit of honest
work.... Work makes the man.... Work and prayer ... not your titles and
fine estates. This is a republic now ... understand? ... no king, no
House of Lords--please the Lord neither clergymen nor noblemen soon....
I work with my hands ... and am not ashamed. The Lord Saviour was a
carpenter and not a prince.... My brother is a student and a
gentleman--as good as any prince--understand? Ten thousand times as good
as thee."

He relaxed his grip which had been hard as steel on Sir Marmaduke's
shoulder. It was evident that he had been nursing hatred and loathing
against his lodger for some time, and that to-night the floodgates of
his pent-up wrath had been burst asunder through the mysterious prince's
taunts, and insinuations anent the cloud and secrecy which hung round
the Lamberts' parentage.

Though his shoulder was painful and bruised under the pres