e heard you talk of patriotism: a true patriot loves his country too
well to commit a dishonourable action! Sir, I have learned that you were
married to the Jewish girl."

"Please your Highness," interrupted Manasseh at length, "I do not wish
the marriage: if there be, as we suppose, a marriage, I wish it not
kept; I only want my wretched and deluded child."

"Your pardon, good Rabbi. I am protector of the rights, and not the
fantasies, of those who inhabit England, and I hold no sinecure. You may
well turn pale, Master of Burrell!--O Lord! that such should dwell in
the tents of Judah!--that such should remain sound in life and limb,
blessed with carnal and fleshly comforts!--that such reptiles should
crawl among us--be fed by the same food, warmed by the same sun, as just
men! No, no, Manasseh; if there _has_ been a marriage, as sure as the
Almighty governs heaven, it shall be kept! Nay, Sir Willmott Burrell,
never dare to knit your brows. Justice, sir, justice to the uttermost,
is what I desire in this country! Dost remember the fate of Don
Pantaleon Sa, the Portugal ambassador's brother--a knight of Malta, and
a person eminent in many great actions? Dost remember him, I say--that
he died the death of a murderer, according to the Scripture, 'he that
sheddeth man's blood, by man shall his blood be shed.' Justice shall be
satisfied!--Not that I seek to confound you without a hearing. But here
comes one, once a retainer of your own, who can point out where the lady
is."

Robin Hays, little conscious of the fate that had befallen Barbara,
entered with much alacrity, for he was glad of anything that afforded
him change of place.

"What, Robin Hays!" said Burrell. "Methinks your Highness has assembled
most creditable witnesses against me--a Jew, and a thing like that!"

"No sneering, sir. This person asserts that Zillah Ben Israel came over
in the Fire-fly."

"Ah! with Hugh Dalton," said Sir Willmott, thrown off his guard at what
he conceived the Skipper's utter faithlessness; then muttering, "I
thought----"

"No matter what. Methinks _this_ confirms the document you denied,"
observed the Protector, whose rage had somewhat subsided. "No, not with
Hugh Dalton, as you imagine, Sir Willmott, but with a man of the name of
Jeromio, an Italian. The description answers in every respect--the dark
eye, the black hair, the sallow aspect--all."

"Indeed!" said Colonel Jones, who had been present during the
examination, leani