been the coolest on the deck and would have given no heed to danger. Yet the moment the bullets whizzed he ran into the hold, and for all his land mettle he was a coward on the sea. When everyone laughed at him and he was becoming a thing of scorn, he asked to be tied to the mainmast, so that he might not be able to escape. So it comes into my mind," concluded Carlton, "to ask this question of you gallant gentlemen, Is courage what Sir Walter Raleigh calls it, if I mind me rightly, the art of the philosophy of quarrel, or must it not be the issue of principle and rest upon a steady basis of religion? I should like to ask those artists in murder, meaning no offence to any gentleman present who may have been out in a duel, to tell me this, why one who has run so many risks at his sword's point should be turned into a coward at the whizz of a cannon ball?"
"There is not much puzzle in it as it seems to me," answered Rooke; "every man that is worth calling such has so much courage, see you, but there are different kinds. As Mr. Carlton well called it, there is land mettle, and that good swordsman was not afraid when his feet were on the solid ground, then there is sea mettle, and faith he had not much of that, a trifle too little, I grant you, for a gentleman. So it is in measure with us all I never saw the horse I would not mount or the wall within reason I would not take, but I cannot put my foot in a little boat and feel it rising on the sea without a tremble at the heart. That is how I read the riddle."
"What I hold," burst in Collier, "is that everything depends on a man's blood. If it be pure and he has come of a good stock, he cannot play the coward any more than a lion can stalk like a fox. Land or sea, whatever tremble be at the heart he faces his danger as a gentleman should, though there be certain kinds of danger, as has been said, which are worse for some men than others. But I take it your gentleman volunteer, though he might be a good player with the sword, was, if you knew it, a mongrel."
"If you mean by mongrel humbly born," broke in Venner, "saving your presence, you are talking nonsense, and I will prove it to you from days that are not long passed. When it came to fighting in the days of our fathers, I say not that the lads who followed Rupert were not gallant gentlemen and hardy blades, but unless my poor memory has been carried off by that infernal whirlwind, I think Old Noll's Ironsides held their own pretty well. And who were they but blacksmiths and farmer men, from Essex and the Eastern counties. There does not seem to me much difference between the man from the castle and the man behind the plough when their blood is up and they have a sword in their hands."
"I am under obligation to you all for discussing my humble question, but I see that we have two Scots gentlemen with us, and I would crave their opinion. For all men know that the Scots soldier has gone everywhere sword in hand, and whether he was in the body-guard of the King of France, or doing his duty for the Lion of the North, has never turned his back to the foe. And I am the more moved to ask an answer for the settlement of my mind, because as I have ever understood, the Scots more than our people are accustomed to go into the reason of things, and to argue about principles. It is not always that the strong sword-arm goes with a clear head, and I am waiting to hear what two gallant Scots soldiers will say." And the Englishman paid his tribute of courtesy first across the fire to Claverhouse, who responded gracefully with a pleasant smile that showed his white, even teeth beneath his slight mustache, and then to MacKay, who leaned forward and bowed stiffly.
"We are vastly indebted to Mr. Carlton for his good opinion of our nation," said Claverhouse, after a slight pause to see whether MacKay would not answer, and in gentle, almost caressing tones,