A broad collar of Mechlin lace flowed over his shoulders, while wristbands of the same costly material dangled from his sleeves.

Again and again he raised his cap and bent to the saddle-bow in response to the storm of cheering.

'A Monmouth! A Monmouth!' cried the people; 'Hail to the Protestant chief!' 'Long live the noble King Monmouth!' while from every window, and roof, and balcony fluttering kerchief or waving hat brightened the joyous scene.

The rebel van caught fire at the sight and raised a great deep-chested shout, which was taken up again and again by the rest of the army, until the whole countryside was sonorous.
In the meanwhile the city elders, headed by our friend the Mayor, advanced from the gate in all the dignity of silk and fur to pay homage to the King.

Sinking upon one knee by Monmouth's stirrup, he kissed the hand which was graciously extended to him.
'Nay, good Master Mayor,' said the King, in a clear, strong voice, 'it is for my enemies to sink before me, and not for my friends.