him, he, in some surprise, demanded who and what she was. The servant
could not tell. She had declined to give her name, or to say what was
the purpose of her visit.

The Protector thought for a moment, and as he did so, kept gazing, with
a look of abstraction, in the face of his valet. At length--

"Admit her, Porson, admit her," he said. "The Lord sends his own
messengers in his own way; and if we deny them, He will deny us."

Porson, who was one of Cromwell's most pious soldiers--for he served in
the double capacity of warrior and valet--stroked his sleek hair down
over his solemn brow, and uttered a sonorous "amen" to the unconnected
and unintelligible observation of his master, who, it is well known,
dealt much in this extraordinary sort of jargon.

Having uttered his lugubrious amen, Porson withdrew, and in a few
minutes returned, conducting the lady, of whom we have spoken, into the
presence of Cromwell.

On entering the apartment, the former threw aside her veil, and
discovered a countenance of such cunning charms as moved the future
Protector to throw into his manner an air of unwonted gallantry.

At the lady's first entrance he was busy writing, and had merely thrown
down his pen when she appeared, without intending to carry his courtesy
any further; but he had no sooner caught a sight of the fair face of his
visitor, than, excited by an involuntary impulse, he rose from his chair
and advanced towards her, smiling and bowing most graciously; the
latter, however, being by no means remarkable either for its ease or its
elegance.

"Pray, madam," now said Cromwell, still looking the agreeable--so far as
his saturnine features would admit of such expression--"to what happy
circumstance am I indebted for the honour of this visit?"

"The circumstance, sir, that brings me here is by no means a happy one,"
replied the lady, in tones that thrilled even the iron nerves of Oliver
Cromwell. "I am Lady Rae, General; the wife of John Lord Rae, at present
a prisoner in the Tolbooth of Edinburgh for his adherence to the cause
of the late king."

"Ah, my Lady Rae, I am sorry for you--sorry for you indeed; but
doubtless you have found consolation in the same source whence your
afflictions have sprung. Truly may I reckon--indeed may I,
doubtless--that the Lord, who has seen fit to chastise you, has also
comforted you under this dispensation."

"None, Sir General, who seek the aid of the Almighty in a true spirit
ever