laimed. Rufus
stared at her as if she had lost her wits.

"Why, what can you do?" he asked, astonished. Brilliana answered with
a glance of profound wisdom. "I think I know a way," and she nodded
her head sagely. Then she turned and moved a little space across the
hall in the direction of that window-seat where Evander sat
ensconced. When she had advanced two or three paces she called to
him:

"Captain Cloud, pray favor me with your company for a few moments of
speech."

Evander's consciousness swam to the surface of a pool of gloomy
thought at her summons. He rose on the instant and came down the hall
towards her.

"I am at your service, lady," he said. Brilliana watched him closely
as she questioned.

"You say you are a friend of Mr. Cromwell?"

Evander seemed surprised at the interrogation, but he answered,
simply, "I am so favored."

"Does he cherish you in affection?" Brilliana pursued, still watching
him closely.

"He loved my father," said Evander. "If I dared to think it I should
say he loved me, too. Truly, he has shown me much regard."

Brilliana struck her palms sharply together with the air of one who
has solved a difficult problem.

"Your Mr. Cromwell has taken prisoner a cousin of mine whom he
threatens to kill as a spy. We will exchange you against Mr.
Cromwell's prisoner."

Evander looked steadily back at her with a hint of mild amusement at
the corners of his mouth.

"Colonel Cromwell will never exchange a spy," he responded,
decisively.

Rufus, who was listening to the conference, nodded his head in gloomy
assent. "That is like enough," he agreed. Brilliana stamped a foot
and her eyes snapped vexation.

"We shall see," she said, sharply. She turned away from the two men
and moved to a small table against the wall that carried writing
materials. Seating herself thereat, she took up a goose-quill and
began to write rapidly on a large sheet of paper. When she had
finished she looked round, and beckoned Rufus to her side that he
might hear what she had written. She read it aloud, with her eyes
fixed on Evander's impassive face.

"To Colonel Cromwell, serving with my Lord Essex in the
Parliamentary army lately at Edgehill. My cousin, Sir
Randolph Harby, is a prisoner in your hands. Your friend,
Mr. Evander Cloud, is a prisoner in mine. I will exchange my
prisoner for your prisoner; but the life of Mr. Evander
Cloud is answerable for the life of Randolph