he
prime of manhood, with the noble resolute expression on his fine
features and steadfast eyes, except when, as he looked at his
father, they were full of infinite pity. The brown hair hung over
the rich gold-laced white coat, faced with black, and with a broad
gold-coloured sash fringed with black over his shoulder, and there
was a look of distinction about him that made his answer only
natural. "Charles Archfield, of Archfield House, Fareham,
Lieutenant-Colonel of his Imperial Majesty's Light Dragoons, Knight
of the Holy Roman Empire. Must I give up my sword like a prisoner
of war?" he asked, with a smile.

Sir Philip rose to his feet with an earnest trembling entreaty that
bail might be taken for him, and many voices of gentlemen and men of
substance made offers of it. There was a little consultation, and
it was ruled that bail might be accepted under the circumstances,
and Charles bowed his thanks to the distant and gave his hand to the
nearer, while Mr. Eyre of Botley Grange, and Mr. Brocas of Roche
Court, were accepted as sureties. The gentle old face of Mr.
Cromwell of Hursley, was raised to poor old Sir Philip's with the
words, spoken with a remnant of the authority of the Protector:
"Your son has spoken like a brave man, sir; God bless you, and bring
you well through it."

Charles was then asked whether he wished for time to collect
witnesses. "No, my lord," he said. "I thank you heartily, but I
have no one to call, and the sooner this is over the better for
all."

After a little consultation it was found that the Grand Jury had not
been dismissed, and could find a true bill against him; and it was
decided that the trial should take place after the rest of the
criminal cases were disposed of.

This settled, the sorrowful party with the strangely welcomed son
were free to return to their quarters at the George. Mr. Cromwell
pressed forward to beg that they would make use of his coach. It
was a kind thought, for Sir Philip hung feebly on his son's arm, and
to pass through the curious throng would have been distressing.
After helping him in, Charles turned and demanded--

"Where is she, the young gentlewoman, Miss Woodford?"

She was just within, her uncle waiting to take her out till the
crowd's attention should be called off. Charles lifted her in, and
Sir Edmund and Dr. Woodford followed him, for there was plenty of
room in the capacious vehicle.

Nobody spoke in the very short interval th