taken for rogues of
Essex's regiment, and so, unchallenged, slipped into the enemy's
camp. Dear fortune led me to the tent of Lord Essex, and there I
found his secretary sitting and gaping at the precious emblem. I
snatched it from his fingers and made good my escape, gaining great
praise from his Majesty when I laid the sacred silk at his feet."

Brilliana's eyes swam with adoration. "Oh, my gallant friend!" she
cried, and held out her hands to him. He caught them both and kissed
them, whereat she instantly withdrew them and moved a little away. He
followed her, speaking low, passionately.

"Your words mean more than the King's words to me. You know that."

Brilliana did not look vastly displeased at this wild speech, but she
forced a tiny frown and set her finger to her lips.

"Hush!" she said. "What of Randolph?"

"Less fortunate than I," Rufus resumed, in calmer tones, "he ran into
the arms of a burly Parliament man, that Cambridge Crophead Mr.
Cromwell, who made him prisoner."

"Truly," said Brilliana, thoughtfully, "it is hard luck for him just
after his first battle. But 'twill be soon mended. They will exchange
him."

Even as she spoke she seemed surprised at the gloomy look that
reigned on Rufus's face. His tone was as gloomy as his face as he
said, "He was wearing the orange scarf of Essex."

"What then?" Brilliana questioned, still surprised; then, as
knowledge flashed upon her, she cried, quickly, "Ah, they will say
that he was a spy."

"Ay," Rufus answered, hotly, "the King's spy, God's spy upon enemies
of God and King, but still a spy in their eyes."

"But what is to be done?" Brilliana gasped.

"I would that I knew," Rufus answered. "His Majesty has interceded
for him and has gained him some days of grace. It is certain that my
Lord Essex, if he had his own way, would yield him. But he has not
his own way, for this stubborn Cromwell fellow clings to his
prisoner."

"Why is he so stubborn?" Brilliana asked. Rufus smiled sourly.

"Partly because, like all new-made soldiers, he is punctilious of the
rules of war. Partly because he hopes to turn his capture to some
account. Poor Randolph had upon him a letter in cipher from the King
to a certain lord. Randolph may buy his life with the key to the
cipher."

"He will never do that," Brilliana said, in proud confidence of the
courage of her house. She was silent for a moment; then she gave a
little cry of joy. "I think I can save him," she exc