"Would not
the most wicked course be to do nothing, and then side with the victor?"
"That madman seems to have spoken shrewdly when he said you did not like
fighting," said a girl beside him.
"There is evil to be done whichever side we fight for," said Rosmore. "I
see more personal advantage in fighting for King James, and should
anyone be able to persuade Fellowes to throw in his lot with Monmouth he
will do me a service. The world grows too small to hold us both."
"At least I hope that all my lovers will not fall victims to the
rabble," said Mrs. Dearmer. "Abbot John, you at least must stay at the
Abbey to keep me merry."
* * * * *
Martin Fairley tucked his fiddle under his arm and went quickly down the
terrace. As he approached the doorway leading into the ruined hall a man
came out of the shadows.
"My brother poet!" Martin exclaimed. "You have left the revel early,
brother!"
"Can you be serious, Martin, and understand me clearly?" asked Fellowes.
"It happens that I am rather serious just now," was the answer.
"Martin, I was a scoundrel to-night," said Fellowes, catching him by the
arm.
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