Quick, what's your name ?" The man was flourishing his sword with as much apparent knowledge of how to use it as if it had been a marlin-spike.

Ralph pushed it aside with a stout stick that he carried, and was passing on, when the singing soldier came up and said, "Never mind his name; but whether he be Presbyter Jack or Quaker George, he must drink to the health of the King.

Here," he cried, filling a drinking-cup from the bottle in his hand, "drink to King Charles and his glory!" Ralph took the cup, and, pretending to raise it to his lips, cast its contents by a quick gesture over his shoulder, where the liquor fell full in the face of the Shadow, who had at that moment crept up behind him.

The soldiers were too drunk to perceive what he had done, and permitted him to go by without further molestation.

As he walked on he heard from behind another stave of the ballad, which told how-- This Oliver was of Huntingdon (Fa la la la), Born he was a brewer's son (Fa la la la), He soon forsook the dray and sling, And counted the brewhouse a petty thing Unto the stately throne of a king (Fa la la la).
"What did the great man himself say ?" asked the Shadow, stepping up to Ralph's side.