gently, friends. Sure, I cannot hear the gentleman
speak. Though," she added, reflectively, as she closed the door and
returned again to the table she had quitted--"though God knows he
talks big enough."

The Puritan clapped his palms together as if in applause, an action
that somewhat amazed her in him, while a kindly humor kindled in his
eyes.

"Bravely staged, bravely played," he admitted, while he shook his
head. "But it will not serve your turn, for it may not deceive me. I
had a message this morning from my Lord Essex. There has been hot
fighting; Heaven has given us the victory; the King's cause is
wellnigh lost at the first push."

Brilliana felt her heart drumming against her stays, but she turned
a defiant face on the news-monger.

"I do not believe you," she answered. "The King's cause will always
win."

The soldier took no notice of her denial; he felt too sure of his
fact to hold other than pity for the leaguered lady. He quietly
added:

"My Lord Essex advises me further that reinforcements are marching to
me well equipped with artillery against which even these gallant
walls are worthless. Be warned, be wise. You cannot hope to hold out
longer. For pity's sake, yield to the Parliament."

Brilliana waved his pleas away with a dainty, impatient flourish.

"You chatter republican vainly. I have store of powder. I will blow
this old hall heaven high when I can no longer hold it for the King."

Her visitor looked at her sadly, made as if to speak, paused, and
then appeared to force himself to reluctant utterance.

"Lady," he said, slowly, "though we be opponents, we share the same
blood. Let a kinsman entreat you to reason."

If the civil-spoken stranger had struck her in the face with his
glove Brilliana could not have been more astonished or angered. She
moved a little nearer to him, interrogation in her shining eyes and
on her angry cheeks.

"Are you mad?" she gasped. "How could such a thing as you be my
kinsman?"

She had taunted him again and again during their brief interview and
he had shown no sign of displeasure. He showed no sign of displeasure
now, answering her with simple dignity.

"Very simply. A lady of your race, your grandsire's sister, married a
poor gentleman of my name and was my father's mother."

Brilliana drew back a little as if she had indeed received a blow.
Involuntarily, she put up her hand to her eyes as if to shut out the
sight of this importunate fellow.

"I