"Walter, my son, what brings you back so soon? And surely you have heard some bad news?" "Aye, that have I, mother—evil and bitter news," said he, gravely. "Mother, Sir John Elliot is dead." "Alas! Alas! Is he gone, the good and brave man?" said Mrs. Corbet. "Did he die at home?" "Not so! He died in prison—in the Tower, whence he had vainly prayed to be removed. The King hath even refused to his orphan children the poor comfort of paying the last rites to their father's body, which is thrust into a hole, like a dog's. The brave good man hath been denied that mercy he ever showed, even to his enemies. Alas, my brother!" And with that he covered his face and wept like a child. 'Tis a terrible thing to see a strong, self-restrained man weep. He controlled himself in a moment, however, and sat silently looking at the fire. "But how did you hear?" asked his mother, presently. He told her that he had met in Exeter a messenger with letters from London, and that he must himself go up to town next day but one. "I must see what can be done for those children. Maybe something can be saved for them," said he; "and I must see and consult with our friends. I think the King is utterly mad. At the rate things are going, the Court will leave us neither King nor Church before another five years. We are fallen on evil days, and the worst is, one knows not which side to take." "If only one need take neither side," said Madam, sighing. "But I well know that cannot be. 'Tis a woeful thing that the King should be so ill-advised. But are you sure that Sir John's body was refused to his family? I can scarce believe it." * * I here take a slight liberty with history. Sir John Elliot died in 1632. The circumstances were as related above. "So Mr. Hampden writes me," returned Walter, taking a letter from his pocket; "and he is not a man to speak at random. Here is what he says: "'Sir John petitioned again and again that he might be set at liberty, to regain his health, injured by the close and bad air of his prison, but the King's only answer was that the petition was not humble enough. At last he died, and his son begged most humbly that he might have liberty to carry his father's body into Cornwall, there to be buried with his ancestors. His Majesty wrote at the foot of the petition: "'"Let Sir John Elliot's body be buried in the church of the parish where he died," and accordingly our friend's corpse was thrust into an obscure corner of the Tower church. This is the end of an honorable and just man, after ten years' languishing in prison, and that for no fault save that of upholding valiantly the constitutional liberties of the House of Commons. The Court party make no secret of their exultation, but the King's real friends are in great dismay; and for mine own part I see not any good end possible.'" "Mr. Hampden writes very moderately," remarked Madam.