alse? He had urged on Cromwell that the
matter was one of policy. Agreed. But which was the politic road? If the
King lost his head, there would beyond doubt be a sullen struggle ahead.
Sooner or later the regicides would fall--of that he had no doubt. But
what of the ultimate fate of England? They would have struck a blow
against privilege which would never be forgotten. In future all kings
would walk warily. In time the plain man might come to his own. In the
long run was not this politic?

"'Tis a good thing my mouth is shut for some weeks," he told himself. "I
am coming round to Ireton. I am no fit company for Oliver."

He mused a little on his inconstancy. It had not been a frequent
occurrence in his life. But now he seemed to have got a sudden
illumination, such as visited Cromwell in his prayers. He realised how
it had come about. Hitherto he had ridden his thoughts unconsciously
on the curb of caution, for a conclusion reached meant deeds to follow.
But, with the possibility of deeds removed, his mind had been freed.
What had been cloudy before now showed very bright, and the little lamp
of reason he had once used was put out by an intolerable sunlight. He
felt himself quickened to an unwonted poetry.... His whole outlook had
changed, but the change brought no impulse to action. He submitted to be
idle, since it was so fated. He was rather glad of it, for he felt weary
and giddy in mind.

But the new thoughts once awakened ranged on their courses. To destroy
the false kingship would open the way for the true. He was no leveller;
he believed in kings who were kings in deed. The world could not do
without its leaders. Oliver was such a one, and others would rise up.
Why reverence a brocaded puppet larded by a priest with oil, when there
were men who needed no robes or sacring to make them kingly? Teach the
Lord's Anointed his mortality, and there would be hope in the years to
come of a true anointing.

He turned to his daughter.

"I believe your night's work, Cis, has been a fortunate thing for our
family."

She smiled and patted his hand, and at the moment with a great jolting
the coach pulled up. Presently lanterns showed at the window, the door
was opened, and Sir Anthony Colledge stood revealed in the driving snow.
In the Chilterns it must have been falling for hours, for the road was a
foot deep, and the wind had made great drifts among the beech boles. The
lover looked somewhat sheepish as he swept a