Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1897-10-09

with oaths and curses and other things
very unfit for his majesty's ears or the
place in which he stood.
Under these circumstances. for a min
ute no one Knew what to do each look
| Ing at his neighbor. until the lord stew
| ard, rising from his chair, cried in a voice
of thunder. Take that man away! Mr..
Secretary. this is your business! Out with
| him, sir!" On which Sir William cal ed
| in the messengers. and they laid hands on
him. By that time. however. he had re-
covered the will and grim compcsure which
We're tie mans best characteristics, and.
with last malign and despairing look at
my lord, he suffered them to lead him out
| Chapter xLvI.
| That was a great day for my lord, but
| it was also, / truly believe. Une Of the
ssddest of a not unhappy life. He had
| gained the battle, but at cost known
only to himself. though guessed by some.
| the story of the old weakness had been
| tr Id, as he had foreseen it must be told, and
even while his friends pressed round him
and crying, Salve Impera;or! rejoiced in
the fall he had given his woes. he was
| aware of the wound bleeding inwardly, aid
In his mind was already borne out of the
battle.
| Yet in that room was one sadder. Sir
| john, remaining at the foot of the table
| frowned along it, gloomy and downcast;
| too proud to ask or earn the kings favor
| yet shaken by the knowledge that now
| now was the time; that in a little while
! the door would close him. and with il
| the chance of Efe-life with its sunshine
| and air and freedom, its whiriigigs and
| revenges. Some thought that IN considera-
| ton of the trick which had been played
| upon him the king might properly view
| him with indulgence; and were encouraged
| in this by the character for clemency which
| even his enemies allowed that sovereign.
| But William had other views this occa-
| sion, and when the hubbub which Smiths
| removal had caused had completely died
| away. he addressed Sir John. advising him
| to depend rather on deserving his favor by
a frank and full discovery than on such in
| gerIouS contrivances that which had
just been exposed.
| Il was no party to it," the unhappy gen.
tleman answered.
| Therefore it shall tell neither for nor
against you.' the king retorted- Have you
anything more to Say?'
| Il throw myself on your majesty's Glenn
ency."
That will not do. Sir john the king
| answered. You must speak, or-the al
| tentative does not lie with me- But you
| know it,
| Ard choose it," Sir John cried, recov-
erins spirit and courage.
| so be it,, said his majesty, slowly and
1ly. Il will not say that l expected
anything less from you. My lords, let
| him be removed"
And with that the messengers came in
| "a. Oh ,oiih DoWed ana went with them.
| II may have been fancy, but l thought
| that as he turned from the table a hagsard
shade fell on his face, and soul in mortal
| anguish looked an instant from his eyes
| but the next moment he was gone
never saw him again. That night the
| news was everywhere that Goodman, one
VI the Two witnesses against him. had fled
| the country, and for time ii was believed
| tnat Sir John would escape. How in face
| OF that difficulty, those who Wa-e ,iaternni 1,
eu on ms death effected it, how he was
| atlalnted and how he suffered on Tower
I'M with all the forms and privila ges of
| peer-oh the 18th of January of the suc-
ceedinS year-is story too trite and 4,
| nllar TO call for repetition.
IN ms departure the council broke I'm
n,sui majesty retiring. Before he went
wofo was said about me, and some who
nau greater regard for the post factun
IMAM the poenitentia were for sending me
~ .he compton, and leaving the law officers
~ aeal Win me. But my lori rousing him.
seii' interposed roundly, spoke for me and
would have given bail had they persisted
Seeing, however, how graveIy he took il
ana being inclined to please him. thew de-
| sisted. and 1 was allowed to go. on the
simple condition that the duke kent me
uhder ms own eye. This he very gladly
consented to do
Nor was 1t the only kindness he did me-
! or the greatest; for having heard from mo
at length and in detail all the circumstances
leading up to my timely Intervention he
| sent for me few days later, and placing
| paper In my hands babe me read the gist
| OF 1t. / did SO, and found il to he a free
| pardon passed under the great seal and
granted TO Richard Price and Mary Price
his wife, for all acts and things done by
tnem Jointly or separately against the
kings most excellent majesty within nv
| without the realm.
II was at Eyford he handed me this. in
.ne OAK parior. looking upon the bowling
| sreeh' where had already begun 10 wait
upon MIN on one morning in The week In
md f,ll
Inc year was nearly spent but that al-
tuInn was fine, and the sunlight which Law
on the smooth turf blended with the russet
spiehdor OF the beech trees that rise beyond
mad been thinking of Mary and the Quiet
courtyard at the hospital, which the bowl
ing green somewhat reSembIed being omen
| 10 the park on one side only, and when
pefuSlhg the paper, my lord, smiling at me
came to her nama-or rather to the name
that was hers and yet mine-I felt such a
| flow of remembrance love and gratitude
overcome me as left me speeches. and
TINS directed, not only to him. but to her
seeing that 1t was her advice and her man
agement that had brought me against my
| will to this haven of safety
Inc duke saw my emotion and read my
silence Alright "Well?" he said, ARE you
| satisfied?'
| I told him that if 1 were not 1 must be
| the veriest migrate living.
And you have nothing more to ask"' he
| continued, still smiling.
Nothing l said. 'Except-except that
| which is not in your lordship's power to
| grant"
''How?" said he, with pretense of sur
| prise and resentment. Not satisfied yet?
What Is II %
'If she were here.' said. IF she were
| here, my lord! But Dunquerque-''
| rs far cry, Ell? And the roads are bad.
| And the seas
Are worse" I said gloomi:y. looking at
| the paper, Tantalus looked at the water.
! "And to get word to her Is not of the
| easiest"
MOP" the duke said. ''Say you so. Then
! what do you make Of this. faint neartT'
| And he pointed through the open window.
1 looked, and on the seat-which mo-
| ment before had been vacant, the seat
| under the right-hand yew hedge, where my
| lord sometimes smoked his pipe-I saw a
girl seated. with her shoulder and the nape
| of her neck turned to US. She making
marks on the turf with a stick she held,
and porting over them. when made, as If the
| world held nothing else, so that / had not
SO much a glimpse of her face. But l
knew that it was Mary.
Come" said my lord, pleasantly. 1--WE
will go to her. 1t may be, she will not have
the pardon after all. Seeing that there is
! condition to it,
"A condition?" 1 CRIED little startled
and troubled.