The Broken Font: A Story of the Civil War, Vol. 2 (of 2)Sherer, Moyle
History
The Broken Font: A Story of the Civil War, Vol. 2 (of 2)
Sherer, Moyle
Great Britain -- History -- Civil War, 1642-1649 -- Fiction
It was a May morning, the fourth day of that month. Notwithstanding
that the air of every thing about the palace was solemn and grave, yet
the appearance of his Highness’s life guards was very stately and
imposing. The hum of their voices, and of those of the various
officials who passed to and fro to the door of the presence-chamber,
though not loud, was yet audible and confident; while the little
conversation on which the various groups of petitioners ventured was
carried on in suppressed tones, or low and anxious whispers.
For three hours the lady remained in the same place, and kept her face
averted from the busy hall, and fixed upon the trees without. At last
there was a sudden stir and bustle, and when she turned round, she saw
the crowd going forth at the outer door; and an usher of the court
gave notice in a loud voice, that his Highness the Lord Protector
would not hear any further suits that day.
She moved instantly towards the door of the presence-chamber.
“By your leave, gentlemen,--let me pass: my humble suit will not
detain his Highness a moment; and to-morrow will not----”
“I understand you, lady,” said a grey-haired officer, with a manly
compassion; “but his Highness has passed into his inner
presence-chamber, and is engaged with the great officers of state. He
will not allow any one to approach him now; and he does not use to see
any private petitioners after. No one dare present himself at the door
of that chamber now; and we may not suffer you to pass.”
“Well, sir; but I will wait till the council is over, and then,
perhaps, he will admit me. To-morrow will be too late,” she added, and
turned away her head.
“Certainly, lady, you may remain awhile, till the council comes forth;
and he never consults long with them; but if your suit touches any of
the poor gentlemen about to suffer for the late treason, I fear there
is no hope of your success. He hath refused many well-supported
memorials for some who were but slightly connected with the offence,
and whose friends have great personal influence with himself. Indeed,
he cannot pardon them, with safety to his government.”
“It is not for a pardon that I come, sir, it is only for leave to part
with a dear relative, who is sentenced to die as to-morrow; and I am
denied admission to him, without I bring an authority from the Lord
Protector himself.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account