hter--this night--."

"Not to-night," interrupted Zillah; "to-morrow, and not to-night; I can
bear no more to-night."

"Sir Willmott Burrell," said Dalton, walking to where he stood, beaten
down and trampled, yet full of poison as an adder's tooth, "be it known
that I pity you:--your dagger has been turned into your own heart!--The
human flesh you bribed me to destroy, lives! What message brought
Jeromio from the ocean?"

Dalton was proceeding in a strain that would have quickly goaded Burrell
to some desperate act; for, as the Buccaneer went on, he was lashing his
passion with a repetition of the injuries and baseness of his adversary,
as a lion lashes himself with his tail to stimulate his bravery; but the
Protector demanded if Hugh Dalton knew before whom he stood, and dared
to brawl in such presence. Silenced, but not subdued, he retreated, and
contented himself with secret execrations on his enemy.

"We have rendered some justice to-night," said Cromwell, after striding
once or twice the length of the apartment. "Yet is our task not
finished, although the morning watch is come. Without there! Desire
Colonel Jones that he remove Sir Willmott Burrell to the apartment he
before occupied. The morning sun shall witness the completion of the
ceremony between him and her he has so deeply wronged. We will then
consider the course that justice may point out to us. Dalton, you are a
free man, free to come and free to go, and to go as soon and where you
please. Observe, I said _as soon_." Dalton bowed lowly, and moved to
raise his daughter from the spot on which she had crouched by the seat
of her beloved mistress; Robin instinctively moved also.

"Stay!" continued the Protector, "there is yet more to do. Young man,
you must be well aware your act of this night demands some punishment.
The ship which you destroyed--." Dalton writhed at the remembrance, and
Barbara half unclosed her gentle lips.

"Please your Highness, I knew the man's affection for his ship, and I
loved him better than the timber; he would have destroyed me in his
anger but for poor Barbara."

"That is nothing to us; at the least, fetters must be your portion."

Barbara involuntarily sank on her knees, in an attitude of supplication.
Robin knelt also, and by her side.

So touching was the scene, that Cromwell smiled while he laid his hand
on her head, and with the other raised the long chain his daughter had
given the modest bower-maiden, and which