CHAPTER XI.

A CANDID MINISTER.

"Love is a thing as any spirit free, Women of kind desiren libertee, And not to be constrained as a thral." CHAUCER, _Franklin's Tale._

The grey dawn was stealing over the land as Audrey and Richard halted at a cottage outside Lynn, and gave the pony into the care of an old countryman, that they might slip into the town without attracting notice. They stepped briskly on along the frosty road, pleased to feel that they were so near the end of their journey, when they were startled by a man bursting from the hedge and hurrying towards them.

Audrey could not repress a cry of dismay as she pulled up her cloak to muffle her face; but in a moment she was reassured by a call from the stranger which made Richard spring forward and catch him in his arms.

"Good, Mr. Rogers," he exclaimed. "Well met, indeed! What happy chance hath brought you hither?"

"No chance, Dick, but the care of that God who I trust will give us a speedy deliverance from our troubles. Right thankful I am to see thou hast escaped the snares that did beset thee. I have awaited thee here to guide thee to Brother Marshman's house by the garden way, for there is a ship unlading hard by his front door, and idle folk might spy on you did you go that road."

He turned courteously towards Audrey to include her in his words. Richard flung his arm round the minister's shoulders.

"Mistress Perrient," he said, "this is Mr. Rogers, who hath been my good friend since my boyhood, and hardly escaped from London when I was well-nigh taken."

Mr. Rogers bared his head with a courtly bow. "Madam," he said, "I have been familiar with the name of your grandfather and your learned father on General Harrison's lips, and I trust this fortunate meeting may be accounted a sign that the Lord doth intend to make a happy ending to the troubles that have beset this His servant."

Audrey could not repress a smile at this rather enigmatic compliment.

"I fear, good sir," she said, "we have rather added to your troubles, since you have been at the pains of waiting here for us before daybreak."

"Not a whit, not a whit," answered the minister, cheerily; "in truth, I thought not of my own troubles, but of my friend Dick's. Brother Marshman would have come himself to welcome you," he continued, turning to Richard, "but I persuaded him that I should the better recognize you if you should be disguised. Truly, Dick, I take it ill of this government they should be at such pains to seek thee out, and count me not worth pursuing."

Mr. Rogers was in unusually high spirits. Audrey wondered if he found it a relief to escape from the society of his brother minister; but the twinkle in his eye, when he looked at her, seemed to show his pleasure in the present meeting had something to do with his gay humour.

"I pray thee, Dick," he continued, as they walked on, "tell me somewhat of the history of thy journey, and how all hath fallen out so happily. Pardon me, madam, for being so bold. When my wife doth reprove me for curiosity, I tell her 'tis all due to my descent from Grandmother Eve, and therefore a woman should not blame it."

Audrey laughed, and assured him she would gladly listen to the story of Richard's adventures; and it was in a strangely merry fashion that the sad story was told and heard, and it was by no means ended when they entered the garden of the Presbyterian minister, and passed up the trim path to the door.

"Richard Harrison, you are welcome," said the grave voice of Mr. Marshman, as he took the young man's hand in his friendly grasp. "And is this your sister who bears you company? I knew not you would venture to carry her with you."

"This is Mistress Perrient, of Inglethorpe," said Harrison, rather hurriedly. "She is in danger of prison for the fault of aiding me, and is flying to her father in Providence Plantation."

Mr. Marshman stopped and eyed Audrey steadily; then saying shortly, "My housekeeper shall attend her," he ushered her into a parlour, and led Harrison down the passage to his study.

The kind and demure old woman who ruled Mr. Marshman's modest household looked on fugitives as the most usual and most welcome visitors to his house, and the gentle warmth of her reception made up to Audrey for the hardly expected severity of Mr. Marshman's manner. But after a little time the door opened, and the minister returned. His face was stern, but one who knew him would have detected an unusual expression of anxiety on his grave features.

"Deborah, you may depart for a little space," he said. "I have a word for Mistress Perrient's private ear."

Audrey rose, somewhat fluttered by this opening, and calling to mind the alarming reports she had heard of Mr. Marshman's dictatorship in Lynn, but she hardly anticipated the experience that awaited her.

"Mistress Perrient," he began, "I am acquainted with that learned gentleman, your father. He is one of a very tender and sanctified spirit, although, to my judgment, his eyes are not fully opened to the dangers of prelacy. Yet I doubt not that by him you were nurtured in the admonition and fear of the Lord."

"I trust so," answered Audrey, somewhat abashed by the solemnity of this commencement.

"Therefore," continued the minister, "seeing your father is not at hand, it is my duty to open thine eyes to see rightly the way thou art going. No question it hath been a misfortune that it has been your lot to abide in Meshec, in the dwelling of a prelatical woman, and have been given over to your own devices and the vain follies of youth. Nevertheless, I will believe you can yet call to mind the pleasantness of the paths of righteousness, and your ears having been once open to the words of wholesome admonition, your heart may not have wholly turned aside to folly and vanity."

"Indeed, sir!" cried Audrey. "Madam Isham was very strict with her household; there were no more evil ways there than----" She was prudent enough not to finish her sentence.

The minister paid no attention whatever to her interruption, but continued in the same tone--

"And because, as is mine office, I desire to snatch thee from the snares that do beset youth, and more especially womankind, I do hereby warn and exhort thee, and do thou give ear with docility and meekness. It is not fitting that you should go forth after this fashion with this young man, even Richard Harrison. Even among the careless walkers of this generation would such a thing be counted scandalous, and much more for the daughter of one of the Lord's people is it an open shame! Now, indeed, may the ungodly say, 'Lo, how their daughters have run eagerly to destruction! Is this that modesty and sobriety of which they were used to make their boast?'"

"Sir!" gasped Audrey, "what have I done? What can I do? I am in danger of jail if I abide at Inglethorpe."

"Better is it for thee to lose thy liberty than thy good name," answered the minister more sternly. "Tarry and bethink thee while there is yet time. What profit shalt thou have of thy pleasures when the end of them is death? Knowst thou not that the way of an evil woman is the path of hell, going down to the chambers of the grave. Call to mind the end of them that did bring a curse even upon the cause of the king by reason of their dicing and swearing and chambering and wantonness, and fear to go forth on this journey lest a like curse fall upon thee. Oh, bethink thee of the lessons thy father hath taught thee! And for his sake will I even yet have patience, and I will seek out fair words that I may persuade thee."

He paused, but Audrey's breath was so lost in anger and amazement that she could find no words to answer, before he resumed his harangue, but in a tone of studious calm.

"Thou hast indeed made thyself a mocking and a byword by this foolish adventure, nevertheless, there can be a way found by which thou mayst escape, if thou wilt obey my counsels. But answer not rashly nor in haste, for by thy resolution in the matter shall I judge what manner of woman thou art, and thy choice shall be as a winnowing fan to show if thou beest chaff or wheat. It hath come to my knowledge that there was an agreement made between Sir Gyles Perrient and Major-General Harrison, who I trust hath found pardon and acceptance, though, as I must needs hold, he waxed wanton, and fell away from the grace vouchsafed unto him, when he sacrilegiously laid hands upon the sacred person of the king, and received his due reward therefor by being given over to strong delusion and belief in a lie, concerning the Fifth Monarchy, on which it is not now convenient to enter at large. My friend, Mr. John Rogers, I say, who was with Major-General Harrison in his prison, hath made this matter of the agreement plain to me, and his testimony agreeth with that of Richard Harrison, who is an honourable and ingenuous youth. Mr. Rogers and Richard Harrison, I say, bear witness that there was an intention of marriage betwixt you and the said Richard Harrison, decided and agreed upon by your lawful guardians, which agreement was not carried out, by reason of the sudden death of Sir Gyles Perrient, and the imprisonment of Major-General Harrison. I ask thee now, Audrey Perrient, art thou ready to fulfil this agreement and contract in obedience to the will of thy grandfather, and presently take this young man for thy husband and lord, that in leaving this land thou mayst depart after a modest and godly fashion, even as Sarah did go into a strange country in the obedience and fear of her husband Abraham, when he was commanded to go forth from the land of the Chaldees."

"But, sir, does Richard Harrison know of this? What is his mind in it? He never said any word to me of such a thing."

"I am glad of it; I am glad of it," answered Mr. Marshman. "I judged he hath too much the ground of the matter in him to give rein to idle words. Nevertheless, he is ready as an obedient son, to do the will of his father by adoption."

"But, sir, this is too serious a matter--at least for me--to be decided in this hurry. I have no mind to be married because Richard Harrison was bidden to it by his uncle," replied Audrey, with rising spirit.

"Young woman, your words are lighter than befit your situation, nevertheless, I will have patience with you," said the minister, very seriously. "Bear in mind, that this marriage is not alone the will of General Harrison, but also that of your late grandfather, for whom you can scarce yet have lost all sense of duty and obedience."

"No, sir. But my beloved and honoured grandfather did only desire I should marry where I should both give and receive the affection fitting to such a state, and that being his will, my very duty to him forbids my marrying, without Captain Harrison hath more to say in the matter than doth at present appear."

"You have a nimble wit, mistress," replied Mr. Marshman, grimly; "yet can you not so easily beguile me. Do you deem this sober house is as the antechambers of Whitehall, a fitting place for idle lovemaking and lascivious compliments? Nay. If you will hear and obey, it is well. But if you remain stiffnecked and obstinate, beware! I will not permit thee to lay a snare to delude this young man from the right way, after the fashion of the wanton daughters of this evil age, neither shalt thou go forth with him to make him a shame and a byword and a laughing-stock before the multitude. Therefore, in one word, answer me. Wilt thou take this young man to thy husband?"

"No!" cried Audrey, her cheeks flaming. "It is a shame and an insult to speak so to me, a defenceless girl. Does Captain Harrison commission you to purvey him a wife in all haste for his journey, as he would send for a cloak-bag, or a pair of riding-boots? I will not be used so by any man!"

"Then is your journey at its end," answered the minister, coolly, and closed the door behind him.

In the study, Richard Harrison was pacing impatiently up and down, turning now and then in a sort of desperation to Mr. Rogers, who had sat down to his writing at the table.

"What can Master Marshman have to say to her that he went forth in such haste?" he cried. "What is he not capable of saying?"

"Take patience," answered the other, with a smile, though he himself looked hardly the right man to prescribe patience. His thin form was worn to a shadow by ill-health and privation, and appeared to be only sustained by a fire of inward enthusiasm, that glowed in his large light eyes with a brilliancy that almost betokened insanity. His soft fair hair floated like a cloud round his transparent features from under the small black cap of a minister, although the rest of his dress was the ordinary dark habit of any professional man.

"Take patience, Dick," he repeated, smiling. "Brother Marshman can scarce do so much mischief in ten minutes that thou canst not amend in five. Surely I can bear testimony to the power of thine arguments, seeing they carried me from the meeting-house in Coleman Street, when I was set to abide there!"

"But, good Mr. Rogers," cried Dick, impatiently, "you know well that he has never spoken to any one of Mistress Perrient's station in his life. God knows, she is not proud; she hath treated me, a butcher's grandson, with the gentleness of an angel. But any trifle may arouse Master Marshman to lecture her as though she were one of his spinners or huxters of Lynn! Even though it be his own house, he owes some courtesy to his guests. I must after him and see that he treats her fittingly."

As he said the words, however, Mr. Marshman entered the room. He stood for a minute or two in gloomy silence, and then, raising his eyes to Harrison, he said--

"Thou must content thee, Richard, she will none of thee. And well is it for thee, for a froward and rebellious woman can have no part in thy lot, neither shouldest thou take a daughter of Moab to thy bosom."

"This passes all!" cried Harrison, startled out of any attempt at patience; "you are mad, Mr. Marshman! You have not dared to open to her that tale of the overture for her marriage? I must explain----"

"Tarry yet a while," answered the minister, standing before the door. "Favour is deceitful, and what availeth her beauty to thee if it bringeth thee but shame and reproach? Even as a jewel of gold in a swine's snout----"

"Master Marshman, I pray you stand from the door; you have already meddled further in my matters than any other man could do with safety;" and, brushing past the minister, Harrison dashed out of the room.

"Methinks, Brother Marshman, you have forgotten Æsop his fable concerning the sun and the wind!" said the writer, turning in his chair.

"Tush, Brother Rogers!" answered Mr. Marshman, whose temper had risen rapidly. "Soft words are but wasted on this wanton generation. Women who forsake the modesty of their sex and ape the stature of men! I know your pernicious doctrines concerning the liberty of women, a liberty that leads to licence, and to familiarism, and to anabaptism!"

"Hold!" cried Mr. Rogers, growing hot in his turn, "you shall not so pervert a pure doctrine. I deny not that the devil often makes women serve his turn, seeing that where they take, their affections are strongest, and he found out a Delilah for Samson and a Jezebel for Ahab. But as when they are bad, they are exceeding bad, so when they are good, they are exceeding good; and as gold will sooner receive the stamp than iron, so are women more readily wrought upon than men, and persuaded into the truth, and oftentimes take the fullest impression of the seal of the Lord, as witness the holy women of old."

"Ay," retorted Mr. Marshman, "the women of old, even as Eve, by whom sin and death did enter into the world! Well, did Hierome say----"

His tirade was interrupted by Harrison, who dashed back into the room with a distracted face.

"She is gone--she is fled!" he gasped.

"So, Brother Marshman, instead of leading the lambs into the sheepfold," cried Rogers, "thou scarest them with shouts into the jaws of the wolf!"

"She is departed from us because she is not of us," answered Marshman, gloomily.

"You are distraught," cried Harrison. "How will you answer it to her father, to the world that you have driven a lady of birth and breeding from your house--to heaven only knows what perils?"

Mr. Rogers had risen from his chair, and now snatched up his hat and walking-cane.

"Take comfort, Dick," he said. "Doubtless Mistress Perrient hath but gone down to the quay. It is the _Little Charity_, is it not, that her stuff is aboard? I will follow her there and bring you tidings of her safety with all speed. Methinks, Brother Marshman, you also might do worse than to seek for this strayed lamb, seeing it is not all of her own fault that she has wandered forth."

Mr. Marshman had by this time regained his ordinary manner.

"I will go forth instantly and make inquiries," he answered. "Nay, Richard, 'tis but folly for thee to come too. 'Twill but hinder our search if thou art taken by the constables. Keep private here, and doubt not we shall speedily overtake her."

The ministers departed in all haste, leaving the unhappy young soldier almost maddened by his impotence. He was roused from a sort of stupor of despair by the return of Mr. Rogers.

"Alas! they know nothing of her on the _Little Charity_, neither have the sailors seen any gentlewoman answering to her description on the quays. Her stuff is all aboard, and the captain is set to warp out in an hour's time. Therefore we must conclude on what we do in all haste. What do you purpose?

"Purpose? Can you imagine I can leave England While Mistress Perrient's fate is unknown? Am I a stock or a stone?"

"Nay, nay. Yet, remember, you can be of no assistance in the search, and you double the anxiety of our good host, to whom I have made the matter somewhat clearer, and who, I believe, is by now unfeignedly sorry for his roughness. Were you not, indeed, best safe out of the way in Holland?"

"Doubtless I were best out of the way--there or elsewhere. Best I should hang myself for very shame at having brought that angelic creature into such straits. Nevertheless, I cannot go."

"Well," answered Mr. Rogers, with a smile, "I can scarce blame you for abiding in England. But, if you do not sail, I had best take some directions to the ship concerning Mistress Perrient's goods. Shall I bid the sailors carry them to my wife's lodgings at Rotterdam, or are they best brought here till we can find her and know her mind? Methinks 'twill be best that my wife shall have them in her keeping. I will write her by the captain and give her fitting directions; and, when I have disposed all that, I will return and take council as to our further search. Await me, therefore, and I will return in haste."

"But it is not endurable," cried Dick, "that I, who brought Mistress Perrient into this strait, should sit here idle! Mr. Rogers, I must needs go forth! How can I hold up my head among honest men if I lie hid here in shameful cowardice, when God only knows what straits she may be in!"

"Now, give ear, thou foolish boy," cried Mr. Rogers, catching the distracted young man by the sleeve as he was preparing to dash from the room. "In primis, this charge brought against the gentlewoman by a foolish jack-in-office doth put her in no real danger, and most like he and his _posse_ are by this time heartily ashamed of their folly. She stands in no danger unless thou art found, for there is no proof against her, but the word of that vagabond, which no man of gravity would hear. But, if thou art taken, she will indeed stand convicted of harbouring thee, and in no small peril. Thou canst now take no step without involving her in the charges brought against thyself. Consider, she would be held, for certain, a party to our rising under Venner, and what, to my mind, is far worse, idle folk love so well to charge us with anabaptist looseness that light tongues would be busy with her fair fame. Take heed, a maiden is a delicate creature, and a rough finger may do more evil than thou in thy very simplicity canst dream. But, to leave that, thinkest thou not that thou owest somewhat to this roof that shelters thee? If thou dost draw Brother Marshman under suspicion of Fifth Monarchy leanings, thou goest far to ruin, not only him, but all the poor folk that dwell in safety under his shadow. Be not a child, Dick; nothing but patience will serve this turn. Thy passion will ruin all."

It took all Mr. Rogers' powers of persuasion to induce Harrison to pause and reflect. But as his sober reason began to reawaken, the young man realized not only that Mr. Rogers was right in showing him that he would make bad worse by running into the arms of the constables; but a new thought dawned on him that filled him with sick dismay. He began to see that no rudeness of Mr. Marshman's could have so moved the girl; she was more likely to laugh at the ill-manners of one too far beneath her to be worth notice. No, it was the dread of an unwelcome suitor that had driven her from shelter, she imagined that he, Dick Harrison, had beguiled her there to take advantage of her helplessness and force her into marriage! Ingenious in self-torture, he saw ever new reasons for her flight. She was an heiress! She must believe he had entrapped her for her fortune. And more, Mr. Rogers had spoken of light tongues--he, he who would die for her had exposed her to evil report, so that she should not be able to avoid a marriage for the sake of her own credit! She had seen it all, she had fled from him in horror, and if he were to follow her, it would but drive her to some desperate expedient to escape him. It was not Mr. Marshman; he himself alone was to blame; he could never dare to see her again, and yet how could he endure to live under such imputations! With a groan he flung his arms across the table, hiding his face in them.

"Do as you think best," he muttered. "I am too great a dastard and a fool to be worthy to serve her."

It was late in the evening when the two ministers returned from a fruitless search through the town of Lynn. Mr. Marshman had learned a more merciful opinion of Audrey Perrient from Mr. Rogers, and had had time to recover from his indignation at finding his will withstood by a mere girl; he was now as anxious as the others concerning the fate of the fugitive.

"She is surely not in this town!" he said, entering the study. "My flock have aided the search to their best ability, and we are but too familiar with our hiding-places, for which we have had sad need in the past, and to all appearance shall have occasion in the future also. Had Mistress Perrient money with her for a journey?"

"Yes," answered Harrison; "she carried her grandfather's purse that was well filled with gold pieces. Other money she had, but she bade me carry it because of the weight; I have it in this little portmantel."

"Then, perhaps, she may have gone further than we thought. Had she any friends beyond the town who would hide her?"

"Sir Roger Lascelles of Hunstanton is of her kindred; but I heard her say he is in London," answered Harrison, thoughtfully. "She would never venture back to Inglethorpe Hall, and the parson of Inglethorpe Church is but newly come, and is a stranger to her. The old Vicar of Hunstanton dwelt with her grandfather, but he is newly dead; and Sir Frank Cremer, the High Sheriff, is not in the country now. I know not of a single friend she hath to turn to. The old Lady Cremer, I heard her say, is in Norwich--could she have gone thither?"

"She would never go so far without horse or waggon," answered Mr. Marshman. "She came by horse here this morning, did she not?"

"She only rode as far as a little farm at Gaywood, and left her pony there. Her old servant was to fetch it thence when he had leisure. I should have thought of that earlier."

"'Tis not too late," answered Mr. Marshman, rising briskly. "I will presently forth and see if her horse stands there still. If he is gone, she has surely ridden him to some friend's house, and is in safety."

When Mr. Marshman returned, he brought the information that the lady herself had returned to fetch her horse before midday, but that no one had noticed which way she went.

"Young Drake, the mercer, rides to Norwich early to-morrow," continued Mr. Marshman. "You were best give him a letter to Lady Cremer. I will let him know there will be an errand to do."

"If I rode thither myself this night, I should have the sooner assurance, and no one would notice me," hazarded Harrison.

"Nay, nay, this is pure folly," answered Mr. Marshman, as he left the room; and Mr. Rogers interposed.

"Consider, Dick, if Mistress Perrient were indeed there, the sight of you might but make her lie the closer hid. Send a messenger she knows not to Norwich, lest you fright her to fly further, and let me ride to-morrow down the other way, and ask if her servant hath seen aught of her at Inglethorpe. You cannot venture back there, yet to my mind that is the likeliest road to find her. I would start forth at once, but I fear I should scarce find my way in the darkness across the commons. I do, indeed, not hold myself guiltless in this matter, for that in my folly I deemed you had come to an agreement with the gentlewoman, and therefore spake unadvisably with my tongue of that contract of marriage, of which it would have been more fitting to be silent. Yet credit me, Dick, I did it but from folly, and not out of malice."

"Good, Mr. Rogers," cried Dick; "no one could blame you for this unfortunate mishap. It was but Mr. Marshman's unwarranted interference, or, rather, my unspeakable folly that exposed her to him."

"Nay, nay, of that we must say no more; but if you will pardon me my share in this trouble, you cannot refuse me the chance of making good the mischief I have done. As for thyself, good Dick, strive to arm your soul with patience. You have early learned to do; now must you learn the other mood, to suffer, and so win that perfection of patience that made Major-General Harrison find his prison a place of blessing, and a porch to the heavenly sanctuary. When we have done our best endeavours, the Lord takes the business in hand, and bringeth it to what conclusion seemeth right in His sight."

Richard had to resign himself to follow the good man's advice, and thankful was he that this agonizing time of waiting could be spent in the society of a sympathizing friend. With extraordinary patience did Mr. Rogers listen as he repeated again and again the story of Audrey's cheerful endurance of hardship, of her devotion to her grandfather, of her readiness of resource, her noble thoughts on religion and government, and all the wonderful things she had said and done since the day when she tumbled into the lily pond in General Harrison's garden.

But these confidences of Harrison's were interrupted pretty frequently by skirmishes between the two ministers, and if he had not been so distracted by anxiety, Richard would have found a mischievous amusement in the fallings out of the good men, who loved each other heartily, but could never meet without a battle; for the sudden impetus to individuality, given by the break-up of old forms of religion, and methods of government during the civil war, had made it rare to find two men who precisely agreed on matters of Church and State. The thorough going cavaliers, who believed in the divine authority of king and bishops, had little patience with the Presbyterians, who, though loyal to the Crown, abhorred Episcopacy and the Prayer-book; but both Anglican and Presbyterian looked with equal horror on the Independent sectaries, who had been Cromwellians, Republicans, Parliamentarians, or Fifth Monarchy men, and now saw the downfall of all their hopes in the re-establishment of Monarchy and Episcopacy.

For some little time that evening the Presbyterian minister was unusually subdued in his manner, for good Mr. Marshman was sorely perplexed and troubled by the result of his well-meant exhortations, and he did not join in the talk of the other two who sat quietly discussing their future plans, while Mr. Rogers urged Richard to travel with him as far as Leyden, and wait there for further news.

"It will be a well and a resting-place for you in this Valley of Baca; there is a little company of saints already gathered there, the love of whom has drawn me to dwell there awhile."

Then Mr. Marshman broke in: "I am, indeed, rejoiced that you have determined to study medicine while you are in Leyden."

"I have no other choice," sighed Mr. Rogers. "I must needs earn a crust of bread for my poor family, and seeing I am withheld from ministering to the souls of men, I can but fit myself to minister to their bodily needs."

"The life of a physician lends itself to a very Christian walk," answered Mr. Marshman "and I trust many comfortable experiences await you therein. Neither should you be over much cast down by the failure of your temporal and creaturely hopes, seeing the most glorious promise is yet yours, and the righteous shall rejoice in the abundance of peace."

The quotation roused Mr. Rogers like the sound of a trumpet.

"Nay, nay!" he cried, "there you err! Such forced interpretations are but the cloak of fearful and slothful spirits, who are loth to bear the reproach of Christ. It was by them that cried peace, peace, when there was no peace, that the good old cause was lost. And as the false prophets did deceive even the elect, behold, even Richard Harrison was carried away by their dissimulation, and hath taken part with the great green dragon Oliver that did persecute the saints."

"There I am with you," answered Mr. Marshman, "and I pray thee, Richard, take it not ill that I touch on this matter with thee. Surely in many things we offend all, yet may not a minister of the gospel hold his peace without the souls of his flock being required of his hand."

"Pray say on, sir," answered Richard, who was too miserable to resent blame from any one. "I promise you I will not take it ill."

"Then I do desire you to consider that the Lord doth not chasten idly, but for our profit, and when His hand is heavy upon us it beseems us to rummage in our bosoms, where may lurk the sin that hath brought His anger upon us."

"'Tis true," said Mr. Rogers; "nevertheless we must not join with the friends of Job to pass judgment upon the saints in their tribulation."

"I pray you peace a little season, Brother Rogers. I would not, truly, join with those that single them out for sinners on whom the tower of Siloam fell, but the judgments that come upon us be either for our learning or our chastisement. Therefore, we do suffer loss if we seek not out the Lord's purpose. I would not judge any man. I would desire every man to judge himself. But, behold now, what hath been the end of these men who have risen up against the king, set over us by the Almighty? Have they come to their graves in peace? Have not some of them been cut off in their strength, and have not the remnant of them come to a fearful end in their old age? For in this matter there can be no two opinions, seeing that the Word of Scripture is plain: 'Honour the king,' yea, though he be a very Nero! Therefore, Richard, I do lament that the stain of blood-guiltiness must needs cleave unto thee, seeing that thou wast consenting unto the death of the Lord's anointed king, even as Saul was consenting unto the death of Stephen; thou didst stand by even as he did, although thy hand was not lifted. And I do affectionately pray thee to take the chastisement that has fallen already upon thee as a warning."

Mr. Rogers' patience could hold out no longer. He burst in--

"In that, at least, did Richard well! and a glorious thing was it to be numbered among them that called the late Man to account for the blood he had shed."

But his interruption was unheeded. Mr. Marshman's steady harangue flowed on, as unmoved as is the bass of a mountain-torrent by the shrieks of the wind that may blow across it. Mr. Marshman appealed to St. Paul, and Mr. Rogers retorted from the Maccabees; the one instanced King David, and the other King Pharaoh, and quotations from the classics and early fathers flew as thick as hailstones in a winter's storm.

Richard sat half-stunned, half-amused, but knowing in his soul that no eloquence of either divine could go so far to shake his confidence in his own cause as the words of Audrey Perrient, "My father did not justify the death of the king."

It was as much to answer the sudden doubt that rose in his own heart, as to answer Mr. Marshman, that when he took advantage of an instant's lull in the debate to rise, he said--

"I thank you for your counsels, sir, and I will endeavour to profit by them, but give me leave to say one word. I do verily hold, that had the late Lord Protector, Oliver Cromwell, seen any way to secure a settlement, save by the death of the king, I am assured he would have embraced it. But to my thinking matters had come to that pass that no choice was left him."

"Ay," retorted Mr. Marshman, "when the Gadarene swine ran violently down a steep place into the sea, they had no choice but to drown; nevertheless, it was the devil that set them a running at the first."

"Talk not of the subtle reasons of that hypocrite, Oliver Cromwell," cried Mr. Rogers. "General Harrison held no such doctrines of fearful expediency. Cromwell did doubtless talk of expediency, but only as a cloak for his own ambitions, and thereafter catching at greatness he fell from iniquity into iniquity."

"Ay, as a punishment for that crime was he given space to purchase to himself greater damnation," retorted Mr. Marshman. But Richard escaped, and, at last, in the silence and solitude of his sleeping-chamber, could fling himself on his bed and give way to the misery he was ashamed any human eye should see.