From Swarthmoor he went through Westmoreland and Cumberland into Scotland, where he remained some time, visiting Edinburgh, Glasgow, Stirling, Dunbar, the Highlands, and other places; returning through Durham and Yorkshire into Furness, where for a few weeks during the winter he was again the guest of the Fells. In the beginning of 1653 he made another journey into the southern counties, and on that occasion he had another interview with Cromwell--a very brief one, and his last, for it was a few days before the Protector's death. In his _Journal_ he tells us something of the great man's appearance at the time when London was gay with ambassadors extraordinary from France, and Mazarin's nephew was assuring the Protector of the profound veneration his uncle had for him--"the greatest man that ever was." But the day was passed for pomps and flatteries. "Taking boat," says Fox, "I went to Kingston, and thence to Hampton Court, to speak with the Protector about the sufferings of the Friends. I met him riding into Hampton Court Park; and before I came to him as he rode at the head of his life guard I saw and felt a waft (or apparition) of death go forth against him; and when I came to him he looked like a dead man. After I had laid the sufferings of the Friends before him, he bid me come to his house. So I returned to Kingston, and next day went to Hampton Court to speak further with him. But when I came he was sick, and--Harvey, who was one that waited on him, told me the doctors were not willing I should speak with him. So I passed away, and never saw him more." Carlyle thus characteristically comments upon Fox's narrative:-- "I saw and felt a waft of death go forth against him." Or in favour of him, George? His life, if thou knew it, has not been a merry thing for the man, now or heretofore! I fancy he has been looking this long while to give it up, whenever the Commander-in-chief required. To quit his laborious sentry-post, honourably lay up his arms, and begone to his rest--all eternity to rest in, George! Was thy own life merry, for example, in the hollow of the tree, clad permanently in leather? And does the kingly purple, and governing refractory worlds instead of stitching coarse shoes, make it any merrier? The waft of death is not against _him_, I think--perhaps against thee, and me, and others. O George, when the Nell Gwynne defender and two centuries of all-victorious cant have come in upon us, my unfortunate George. [Illustration: MEETING BETWEEN FOX AND CROMWELL.] Cromwell died on the 3rd September; and in little more than one short month Fox lost another, and that his truest, friend. For some time previously the health of Judge Fell had been declining; on the 8th of October he passed away from the scene of his earthly labours, and a few days later was buried by torchlight in a grave under his family pew, in the old church of St. Mary, at Ulverston.