But all Roy’s response was to look up with the eyes which were so like a child’s, dim and glazing over, to draw a shivering sigh, to utter a little whimper of distress in which there was the most piteous meek resignation, and to make one final effort to drag himself nearer for help and comfort to his master, in which the dog’s head fell helplessly on Master Neville’s worn boot. “Ah! has it come to this, my dog?” cried Master Neville, bending hastily over the slightly convulsed limbs. “Poor little soul!” he said to the creature which had no soul; “I would give much to lend the help you ask;” and he groaned as his own misfortunes had never forced a groan from his lips—not since another than Roy had appealed to him for aid which he could not bestow. In a second it was all over, and Reine, with an instinct of something wrong about her motionless companion, had not only given over dancing, but leaped scared into her master’s arms, to which he had bidden Roy in vain. It was only the death of a little dog to him who had lost wife and children, house and lands, and position—who had seen the ghastly horrors of battle-fields, and known his King lay down his head on the block. But at this moment his own powerlessness to save, together with his loneliness, his utter loneliness, if Reine should die likewise, pressed sorely on Master Neville. He saw once more the young bride he had brought to the Alders, while the sound of his children’s pattering feet came again into his ears. He looked back on the thoughtlessness and vanity of his early manhood, on the hours he had wasted, and the opportunities he had lost, never to return. He recalled words he had heard Master Arundel say in the pulpit and out of it. He even remembered what he had witnessed of the conviction of the Puritans, that their God was ever with them to sustain and satisfy. Master Neville gathered himself up, dug a hole in the ground with his pocket-knife, and buried away Roy. He trudged on his road with Reine. The very next day he heard of the long looked for means of leaving England. He was successful in making his way to the seaport. He sailed and reached Holland, where he found friends and assistance for his destitution, till an adventurous soldier like Monk, chiming in with the reactionary spirit of the hour, restored the King, and gave back to the Cavaliers, who were in exile with him, their country, and what was left of their possessions and careers.