taken."

"So he has escaped!" cried Crispin. "Now, God be praised!"

Cromwell stared at him blankly for a moment, then:

"You will do well, sir," he muttered sourly, "to address the Lord on
your own behalf. As for that young man of Baal, your master, rejoice
not yet in his escape. By the same crowning mercy in which the Lord hath
vouchsafed us victory to-day shall He also deliver the malignant youth
into my hands. For your share in retarding his capture your life, sir,
shall pay forfeit. You shall hang at daybreak together with that other
malignant who assisted Charles at the Saint Martin's Gate."

"I shall at least hang in good company," said Crispin pleasantly, "and
for that, sir, I give you thanks."

"You will pass the night with that other fool," Cromwell continued,
without heeding the interruption, "and I pray that you may spend it in
such meditation as shall fit you for your end. Take him away."

"But, my lord," exclaimed Pride, advancing.

"What now?"

Crispin caught not his answer, but his half-whispered words were earnest
and pleading. Cromwell shook his head.

"I cannot sanction it. Let it satisfy you that he dies. I condole with
you in your bereavement, but it is the fortune of war. Let the thought
that your son died in a godly cause be of comfort to you. Bear in mind,
Colonel Pride, that Abraham hesitated not to offer up his child to the
Lord. And so, fare you well."

Colonel Pride's face worked oddly, and his eyes rested for a second
upon the stern, unmoved figure of the Tavern Knight in malice and
vindictiveness. Then, shrugging his shoulders in token of unwilling
resignation, he withdrew, whilst Crispin was led out.

In the hall again they kept him waiting for some moments, until at
length an officer came up, and bidding him follow, led the way to the
guardroom. Here they stripped him of his back-and-breast, and when that
was done the officer again led the way, and Crispin followed between two
troopers. They made him mount three flights of stairs, and hurried him
along a passage to a door by which a soldier stood mounting guard. At
a word from the officer the sentry turned, and unfastening the heavy
bolts, he opened the door. Roughly the officer bade Sir Crispin enter,
and stood aside that he might pass.

Crispin obeyed him silently, and crossed the threshold to find himself
within a mean, gloomy chamber, and to hear the heavy door closed and
made fast again behind him. His stout heart sank