, were he never a Protector, one
would just as soon not make free with." As Robin thought thus, his eyes
were fixed on the light and flitting clouds, and he was longing to be
free and abroad in the moonbeams, that entered his cell only to smile on
his captivity; when some opaque body stood between him and the light, so
that he was for a moment almost in darkness. About three minutes after,
the same effect occurred; and presently a man's face was placed close to
the glass, evidently with the design of seeing into the room.

"A-hoy there!" shouted the Ranger. The face was withdrawn, and no answer
returned, but immediately afterwards the key grated in the lock, and the
Protector himself entered the chamber.

CHAPTER XIV.

_Grundo._ And what did they there talk about?

_Julia._ I'faith, I hardly know, but was advised
'Twas a most cunning parley.

_Grundo._ I do well credit it.

_Old Play._

"I would rather talk to him in that old tapestried hall," thought Robin,
"than in this narrow chamber. There I could have a run for my life; but
here, Heaven help me! I am fairly in for it."

"The room is passing close, the air is heavy," were the Protector's
first words: "follow me to the palace-roof, where there can be no
listeners, save the pale stars, and they prate not of man's doings."

Robin followed Cromwell up a narrow flight of steps, so narrow that the
Protector could hardly climb them. They were terminated by a trap-door
leading to the roof; and there these two men, so different in station
and in stature, stood together on a species of leaden platform, which by
day commands a most beautiful and extensive view of the surrounding
country;--at night there was nothing to be seen but the dim outline of
the distant hills, and the dark woods that formed the foreground.

Scarce a sound was heard, save of the breeze wailing among the many
turrets of the proud palace, and now and then the tramp or challenge of
the sentries at the different outposts, as they passed to and fro upon
their ever-watchful guard.

"I believe your real name is Robin Hays?" said the Protector.

"Your Highness--it is so."

"And you are the son of one Mary or Margery, proprietor of an hostelry,
called the Gulls Nest?"

"The son of Margery Hays, as your Highness has said, who, God be
thanked! still lives in a quiet corner of the Isle of Shepey, and of her
good husband Michael, who has now been dead many y