t it was
hard to judge. The thick straight black locks had little silver in them,
but the hair that sprouted from a mole on the chin was grey. His cheeks
were full and the heavy mouth was pursed like that of a man in constant
painful meditation. He looked at first sight a grazier from the shires
or some new-made squire of a moderate estate. But the eyes forbade that
conclusion. There was something that brooded and commanded in those
eyes, something that might lock the jaw like iron and make their
possessor a hammer to break or bend the world.

Mr. Lovel stirred the fire very deliberately and sat himself in the
second of the two winged chairs.

"The King?" he queried. "You were in two minds when we last spoke on the
matter. I hoped I had persuaded you. Has some new perplexity arisen?"

The other shook his big head, so that for a moment he had the look of a
great bull that paws the ground before charging.

"I have no clearness," he said, and the words had such passion behind
them that they were almost a groan.

Lovel lay back in his chair with his finger tips joined, like a
jurisconsult in the presence of a client. "Clearness in such matters is
not for us mortals," he said. "You are walking dark corridors which
the lamp of the law does not light. You are not summoned to do justice,
being no judge, but to consider the well-being of the State. Policy,
Oliver. Policy, first and last."

The other nodded. "But policy is two-faced, and I know not which to
choose."

"Is it still the business of the trial?" Lovel asked sharply. "We argued
that a fortnight since, and I thought I had convinced you. The case has
not changed. Let me recapitulate. Imprimis, the law of England knows no
court which can bring the King of England before it."

"Tchut, man. Do not repeat that. Vane has been clacking it in my ear. I
tell you, as I told young Sidney, that we are beyond courts and lawyer's
quibbles, and that if England requires it I will cut off the King's head
with the crown on it."

Lovel smiled. "That is my argument. You speak of a trial, but in justice
there can be no trial where there is neither constituted court nor valid
law. If you judge the King, 'tis on grounds of policy. Can you defend
that policy, Oliver? You yourself have no clearness. Who has; Not Vane.
Not Fairfax. Not Whitelocke, or Widdrington, or Lenthall. Certes, not
your old comrade Nick Lovel."

"The Army desires it--notably those in it who are most earnest in