ou shall have it when I have finished it,
to-morrow mayhap or the day after. A good man is Master Locke. Is he not
at this moment a wanderer in the Lowlands, rather than bow his knee to
what his conscience approved not of?'

'There are many good men among the exiles, are there not?' said I.

'The pick of the country,' he answered. 'Ill fares the land that drives
the highest and bravest of its citizens away from it. The day is coming,
I fear, when every man will have to choose betwixt his beliefs and his
freedom. I am an old man, Micah boy, but I may live long enough to see
strange things in this once Protestant kingdom.'

'But if these exiles had their way,' I objected, 'they would place
Monmouth upon the throne, and so unjustly alter the succession.'

'Nay, nay,' old Zachary answered, laying down his plane. 'If they use
Monmouth's name, it is but to strengthen their cause, and to show that
they have a leader of repute. Were James driven from the throne, the
Commons of England in Parliament assembled would be called upon to
name his successor. There are men at Monmouth's back who would not stir
unless this were so.'

'Then, daddy,' said I, 'since I can trust you, and since you will tell
me what you do really think, would it be well, if Monmouth's standard be
raised, that I should join it?'

The carpenter stroked his white beard and pondered for a while. 'It is a
pregnant question,' he said at last, 'and yet methinks that there is but
one answer to it, especially for your father's son. Should an end be put
to James's rule, it is not too late to preserve the nation in its old
faith; but if the disease is allowed to spread, it may be that even the
tyrant's removal would not prevent his evil seed from sprouting. I hold,
therefore, that should the exiles make such an attempt, it is the duty
of every man who values liberty of conscience to rally round them. And
you, my son, the pride of the village, what better use could you make
of your strength than to devote it to helping to relieve your country
of this insupportable yoke? It is treasonable and dangerous
counsel--counsel which might lead to a short shrift and a bloody
death--but, as the Lord liveth, if you were child of mine I should say
the same.'

So spoke the old carpenter with a voice which trembled with earnestness,
and went to work upon his plank once more, while I, with a few words of
gratitude, went on my way pondering over what he had said to me. I had
not