I do not think that even Mr.Wilding can deny the truth of this." "I am by no means sure," said Wilding, and Fletcher looked at him with eyes that were full of understanding.

This sturdy Scot, the only soldier worthy of the name in the Duke's following, who, ever since the project had first been mooted, had held out against it, counselling delay, was in sympathy with Mr.Wilding.
Monmouth rose, his face anxious, his voice fretful.

"There can be no retreat for me, gentlemen.

Though many that we depended upon are not here to join us, yet let us remember that Heaven is on our side, and that we are come to fight in the sacred cause of religion and a nation's emancipation from the thraldom of popery, oppression, and superstition.
Let this dispel such doubts as yet may linger in our minds." His words had a brave sound, but, when analysed, they but formed a paraphrase of what Grey and Ferguson had said.

It was his destiny to be a mere echo of the minds of other men, just as he was now the tool of these two, one of whom plotted, seemingly, because plotting was a disease that had got into his blood; the other for reasons that may have been of ambition or of revenge--no man will ever know for certain.
In the chamber they shared, Trenchard and Mr.Wilding reviewed that night the scene so lately enacted, in which one had taken an active part, the other been little more than a spectator.