nd gay
sword-knot.

'Keep your heart up, friend,' said he, in a hollow voice. 'It is but a
choke and a struggle. A day or two since we had the same job to do, and
the man scarcely groaned. Old Spender, the Duke's marshal, hath as sure
a trick of tying and as good judgment in arranging a drop as hath Dun
of Tyburn. Be of good heart, therefore, for you shall not fall into the
hands of a bungler.'

'I would that I could let Monmouth know that his letters were
delivered,' I exclaimed, seating myself on the side of the bed.

'I' faith, they were delivered. Had you been the penny postman of Mr.
Robert Murray, of whom we heard so much in London last spring, you could
not have handed it in more directly. Why did you not talk the Duke fair?
He is a gracious nobleman, and kind of heart, save when he is thwarted
or angered. Some little talk as to the rebels' numbers and dispositions
might have saved you.'

'I wonder that you, as a soldier, should speak or think of such a
thing,' said I coldly.

'Well, well! Your neck is your own. If it please you to take a leap into
nothing it were pity to thwart you. But his Grace commanded that you
should have the chaplain. I must away to him.'

'I prythee do not bring him,' said I. 'I am one of a dissenting stock,
and I see that there is a Bible in yonder recess. No man can aid me in
making my peace with God.'

'It is well,' he answered, 'for Dean Hewby hath come over from
Chippenham, and he is discoursing with our good chaplain on the need of
self-denial, moistening his throat the while with a flask of the prime
Tokay. At dinner I heard him put up thanks for what he was to receive,
and in the same breath ask the butler how he dared to serve a deacon
of the Church with a pullet without truffle dressing. But, perhaps, you
would desire Dean Hewby's spiritual help? No? Well, what I can do for
you in reason shall be done, since you will not be long upon our hands.
Above all, keep a cheery heart.'

He left the cell, but presently unlocked the door and pushed his dismal
face round the corner. 'I am Captain Sinclair, of the Duke's household,'
he said, 'should you have occasion to ask for me. You had best have
spiritual help, for I do assure you that there hath been something worse
than either warder or prisoner in this cell.'

'What then?' I asked.

'Why, marry, nothing less than the Devil,' he answered, coming in and
closing the door. 'It was in this way,' he went on, sinking his voice: