evil have I done thee, that thou shouldst seek my blood?"

"What evil--what evil, Beelzebub?--all! Thou hast slain the King my Lord
and master. Thou hast slain the Dear Brother who was my playmate, and my
father's hope and pride. Thou hast slain the Sweet and Gallant Youth who
was to have been my husband."

"Thou are that Arabella Greenville, then, the daughter of the wavering
half-hearted Esquire of the West."

"I am the daughter of a Gentleman of Long Descent. I am Arabella
Greenville, an English Maid of Somerset; and I cry for vengeance for the
blood of Charles Stuart, for the blood of Richard Greenville, for the
blood of FRANCIS VILLIERS. Blood for Blood!"

That terrible gleam of Madness leapt out of her blue eyes, and, all
bound as she was, she rushed towards the Protector, as though in her
fury she would have spurned him with her foot, or torn him with her
teeth. The Sergeant for his part made as though he would have drawn his
sword upon her; but Oliver laid his hand on the arm of his officer, and
bade him forbear.

"Leave the maiden alone with me," he said calmly; "wait within call. She
can do no harm." Then, when the soldiers had withdrawn, he walked to and
fro in the room for many minutes, ever and anon turning his head and
gazing fixedly on the prisoner, who stood erect, her head high, her
hands, for all their bonds, clenched in defiance.

"Thou knowest," he said, "that thy Life is forfeit."

"I care not. The sooner the better. I ask but one Mercy: that you send
me not to Tyburn, but to Hampton Court; there to be shot to death in
the courtyard by a file of musketeers."

"Wherefore to Hampton?"

"Because it was there you murdered my Lover and my Brother."

"I remember," the Protector said, bowing his head. "They were rare
Malignants, both. I remember; it was on the same thirtieth of January
that Charles Stuart died the death. But shouldst thou not, too, bear in
mind that Vengeance is not thine, but the Lord's?"

"Blood for Blood!"

"Thou art a maiden of a stern Resolve and a strong Will," said the
Protector, musingly. "If thou art pardoned, wilt thou promise repentance
and amendment?"

"Blood for Blood!"

"Poor distraught creature," this Once cruel man made answer, "I will
have no blood of thine. I have had enough," he continued, with a dark
look and a deep sigh; "I am weary; and Blood will have Blood. But that
my life was in Mercy saved for the weal of these kingdoms, thou mightst
have done