He folded it in his hands and kissed it;
so he had done every night, and there had come to him a vision--a
hurrying crowd of men and women, careless of everything but pleasure and
excitement, and a young girl shrinking back against the wall, strangely
out of place there, and alone.
"I wonder whether we shall ever meet again, and, if we do, whether I
shall have the courage to show you the ribbon you dropped," he murmured.
He had slipped the ribbon round his neck again when there was a hasty
knock at the door, and when he opened it Lord Grey entered the room
quietly.
"I am glad to see you have not retired, Mr. Crosby. King Monmouth is
afraid for you. Ferguson, a good man but a fanatic, is set upon
detaining you at Bridgwater--has, perhaps, more sinister designs. He
plots on his own account in this matter to take you in the morning, so
you must needs leave to-night."
"I would rather stay and settle the score with Ferguson," said Crosby.
"One man, while Ferguson has a dozen enthusiasts at his back! It is
impossible. Besides, Monmouth commands, and, in Bridgwater at least, his
word is law."
"I will go," Crosby answered.
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