without any previous salutation, although he looked all civility and
kindness, "I really hardly know what to say; truly do I not; but the
Lord directs all, and He will guide us in this thing also."

"I trust so!" interrupted Lady Rae, meekly.

"Yes," resumed the future Protector of England; "for we are but weak
creatures, short-sighted and erring. But indeed, as I told you before,
my lady, your husband is a State prisoner; truly is he, and therefore
may I not interfere with him. I cannot; I have not the power. Yet would
I serve thee if I could; truly would I with great pleasure. But these,
you see, are strange times, in which all men must walk warily; for we
are beset with enemies, with traitors--deceivers on all sides, men who
fear not the Lord. Yet, for this matter of yours, my Lady Rae, I will
tell you: I cannot take your husband from prison; it would be unseemly
in the sight of all God-fearing men; but truly, if you could in any ways
manage to get his lordship once without the prison walls, I would take
upon me to prevent his being further troubled. He should have a
protection under my hand; truly he should, although it might bring me to
some odium with my friends. But he should have it, nevertheless, out of
my respect for you, my lady. Now go, go, my lady; I may say no more on
the subject. Go, try and fall on some means of getting thy husband
without the walls of his prison; this done, come instantly to me, and
thou shalt have a protection for him under my hand; indeed thou shalt."

To Lady Rae, this proposal was a grievous disappointment. It contained
an arrangement which she had never contemplated, and which seemed as
impracticable as it was strange; yet she saw it was all she had to
expect, and that whatever might be the result, she must be content with
the extent of interference on her husband's behalf, which was included