stroked my cheek coaxingly.

Truly, a woman is the most unfathomable work of God. Here was this
maid, quick as a hornet to resent a wrong, and yet forgiving as a dove
when the danger had passed.

I hesitated; but her tender eyes were on me, and I could not resist
their wondrous charm.

"Well,--I will see what may be done," I replied slowly, and with great
reluctance. "But remember, I have little thought that he can avoid the
block, or halter."

Then I went unto the King's headquarters and told him my request.

"What, Bradley! spare the life of Catesby; the man that so hath wronged
thee? By the light of Heaven! my long sojourn across the channel hath
made me to forget the nature of an English gentleman! But may I ask
your reason for this strange request?" he asked more seriously.

I told him.

"'Tis but an old woman's whim; but even so I had been glad to grant
thee this request; but thou art too late. His head was stricken off
but a few moments before thou earnest."

"Thank Gawd!" growled Michael from the door, whither he had followed,
as faithful as my shadow.

"And is this a friend of thine?" asked the King.

"Ay, your Majesty, he is my noble squire. To him, your Grace, do I owe
my life a score of times." And then I told him of the worthy Irishman.

When I came to the part that Michael had played that day the King
exclaimed:--

"What! captured Catesby! Kneel down my faithful subject. What is thy
name?"

"Moichael O'Brien, yer Majesty."

The King drew forth his sword and laid it upon the mighty shoulder.
"Arise, Sir Michael O'Brien."

Still did not Michael stand; but merely raised his head and stared in
bewilderment at the King.

"Come, Sir Michael, let me be the first to congratulate thee on thy
distinction," said I, as I grasped his hand and raised him to his feet.

He could not speak, but looked his surprise and thanks more eloquently
than could have been expressed by a whole volume of words.

When we reached the Sanctuary I informed the old hag that I had been
too late to save Catesby.

How she howled and chattered like a mad creature, and Hazel, like the
dear forgiving angel that she hath ever been, comforted this old woman
with soft, soothing words, and at last succeeded in quieting her. The
old woman was then led off to another room, and since that day I never
have beheld her. And for this I am thankful; for I could not look upon
her without mixed emotions of hate and sympathy