attenuated, and his hands thin and bony. He had once been tall, but
latterly had lost much of his height, in consequence of a curvature of
the spine, which bowed down his head almost upon his breast, and fixed
it immoveably in that position. His features were good, but, as we have
stated, were stamped with melancholy, and sharpened by severity.

This person was Sir Thomas Lake, Secretary of State.

The table at which he sat was strewn over with official documents and
papers. He was not, however, examining any of them, but had just broken
the seal of a private packet which he had received from his wife, when
an usher entered, and intimated that a young maiden, who was without,
solicited a moment's audience. The request would have been refused, if
the man had not gone on to say that he believed the applicant was the
daughter of the crazy Puritan, who had threatened the King's life on the
previous day. On hearing this, Sir Thomas consented to see her, and she
was admitted accordingly.

As soon as the usher had retired, Aveline unmuffled herself, and, cold
and apathetic as he was, Sir Thomas could not help being struck by her
surpassing beauty, unimpaired even by the affliction under which she
laboured; and he consequently softened in some degree the customary
asperity of his tones in addressing her.

"Who are you, maiden, and what seek you?" he demanded, eyeing her with
curiosity.

"I am daughter to the unfortunate Hugh Calveley, now a prisoner in the
palace," she replied.

"I am sorry to hear it," rejoined Sir Thomas, resuming his habitually
severe expression; "for you are the daughter of a very heinous offender.
The enormity of Hugh Calveley's crime, which is worse than parricide,
deprives him of all human sympathy and compassion. In coming to me you
do not, I presume, intend to weary me with prayers for mercy; for none
is deserved, and none will be shown. For my own part, I shall not utter
a word in mitigation of the dreadful sentence certain to be pronounced
upon him; nor shall I advise the slightest clemency to be shown him on
the part of his Majesty. Such an offender cannot be too severely
punished. I do not say this," he continued, somewhat softening his
harshness, "to aggravate the distress and shame you naturally feel; but
I wish to check at once any hopes you may have formed. Yet though I have
no pity for him, I have much for you, since, doubtless, you are innocent
of all knowledge of your father's atrocio