"Pray, madam," now said Cromwell, still looking the agreeable--so far as
his saturnine features would admit of such expression--"to what happy
circumstance am I indebted for the honour of this visit?"

"The circumstance, sir, that brings me here is by no means a happy one,"
replied the lady, in tones that thrilled even the iron nerves of Oliver
Cromwell. "I am Lady Rae, General; the wife of John Lord Rae, at present
a prisoner in the Tolbooth of Edinburgh for his adherence to the cause
of the late king."

"Ah, my Lady Rae, I am sorry for you--sorry for you indeed; but
doubtless you have found consolation in the same source whence your
afflictions have sprung. Truly may I reckon--indeed may I,
doubtless--that the Lord, who has seen fit to chastise you, has also
comforted you under this dispensation."

"None, Sir General, who seek the aid of the Almighty in a true spirit
ever seek that aid in vain," replied Lady Rae; "and I have been a
seeker, and have found; nor have I, I trust, been wanting on this
occasion in a due submission to his will."

"Truly, I hope not; indeed do I," replied Cromwell. "Then, what would ye
with me, fair lady? What would ye with one so feeble and humble as I am,
who am but as a tool, a mean instrument in the hand of the artificer?"
And the speaker assumed a look of the deepest humility.

"I dare not utter it! I dare not utter it, General!" exclaimed Lady Rae,
now giving way, for the first time, to that emotion which was agitating
her whole frame, although she had hitherto endeavoured, and not