“Leave them all, locked in, where they are,” said Sir William Parkyns—­“they can do no harm there.  Let us ourselves, like brave and determined men, carry into execution at once the resolution we have formed.  Let us turn our horses’ heads towards London; meet at Turnham Green, as was proposed; and while people are seeking for us here in vain, the usurper’s life will be brought to an end, and his unsteady government overthrown for ever.  Everything in the country will be in confusion; our friends will be rising in all quarters;—­the Duke of Berwick, I know, was at Calais yesterday;—­the army can land in two days; and the advantages of our situation will all be secured by one prompt and decided blow.  I say, leave them where they are.  Before they can make their escape, the whole thing will be over, and we shall be safe.”

“Nonsense, Sir William,” cried Fenwick, “nonsense, I say.  Here is Plessis, has evidently played into their hands; the man we put to guard the girl has been bribed off his post; the window itself is not so high but that an active man might easily drop from it, if he could see clearly where to light below; ere noon, to-morrow, the tidings of our assemblies would reach Kensington.  William of Orange would not stir out, and the whole plan would be frustrated.  We should be hunted down through the country like wild beasts, and you would be one of the first to repent the advice you have given.”

“But my good friend, Fenwick,” said Sir George Barkley, “all this is very well.  But still you do not say what is to be done.  Every one objects to the plan which is proposed by another, and yet no one proposes anything that is not full of dangers.”

“For my part,” said Charnock, who had hitherto scarcely spoken at all—­“for my part, if you were to ask my opinion, I should say, Let us walk in—­we are here eleven or twelve in all; twelve, I think—­and just quietly make a circle round, and give them a pistol-shot or two.  If people will come prying into other persons’ affairs, and meddling with things they have no business to concern themselves about, they must take the consequences.”

“Not in cold blood! not in cold blood!” exclaimed Rookwood.

“And the women!” said Sir John Fenwick, “Remember the women!”

“I hope William of Orange won’t have a woman with him to-morrow,” said Charnock, coolly, “or if he has, that she’ll not be upon my side of the carriage; I would never let a woman stand in the way when a great deed was to be done.”

“Well, for my part,” said Fenwick, “I agree with Sir William Parkyns, that no time is to be lost in the execution of this business; but I agree also with Captain Rookwood, that it would be horrible to cut these men’s throats in cold blood.  What I propose is this, that we at once demand that they lay down their arms, and that, pledging our word of honour no evil shall happen to them, we march them down one by one to the boat, and ship them off for France.  It will be an affair of three hours to get them embarked; but that will be time well bestowed.  We can then proceed to the execution of our scheme at once, and in far greater safety.  If they make any resistance, the consequence be upon their own head.”