ed as one who had done wonders
for the King; and, in an enemy every where triumphant, to spare his life
was an act of mercy. He was, however, kept in rigorous confinement, and
his name excepted out of every act of amnesty. Whether the Presbyterians
or Independents gained a temporary ascendancy; whether the Rump or the
army struggled to get the King's person into their hands, to give a
colourable pretext to their most unrighteous proceedings, a high-minded
Loyalist was alike dangerous and opposite to the vacillating humours of
men, who, under the pretence of worshipping the God of truth and mercy,
served the abominations of perverted understandings and corrupted
hearts.

Eustace, accompanied by the faithful Jobson, reached Pendennis Castle,
and joined its brave defenders; but Lord Hopton left it before their
arrival, to follow his royal charge, who, in compliance with his
father's commands, quitted England, which now had only chains to bestow
on its Princes. In this strong fortress, celebrated for being the last
that held out for the King, Eustace distinguished himself for patient
bravery and active courage. But he no longer fought in a conspicuous
scene of action, under the eye of a renowned commander, whose praise was
glory, and whose reproof was disgrace. He gained indeed the esteem of
the venerable Arundel, who, at the age of fourscore, bound his
silver-locks with an helmet, and kept the Royal standard flying, till
the enemy, astonished at his fortitude and resources, acceded to the
most honourable capitulation. But as soon as terms were granted, and the
garrison dispersed, Eustace lost all hope of again signalizing himself,
nor could the renown gained within the walls of a fortress expunge the
disgrace which had been promulgated at the head of an army.

While undetermined how to act, or which way to employ the unvalued life
he was bound to preserve in proof of his repentance, Eustace heard of
his father's captivity. Another report at the same time reached him,
which, as any one who has fondly loved in early youth, when every idea
is most likely to be engrossed by the ardent susceptibility of one
predominant passion, will readily believe, excited still keener anguish.
He was assured that Monthault was at that time an inmate in Dr.
Beaumont's family, high in the estimation of all, and even believed to
be an accepted lover of Constantia.

To refute a rumour so injurious to loyal faith and female truth, I must
remind