"Here, as I think, he comes," Charles said. The door opened and Sir Rufus entered the room. He was so amazed at facing Brilliana that for a moment he forgot to render salutation to the King. Charles's eyes brightened as they used to brighten at the playhouse. Here was a living play being played before him, tragical, comical--man and woman fighting for a man's life. "Sir Rufus," he ordered, "send to our presence the prisoner, the Parliament officer." Rufus glanced at Brilliana's stern, averted face; he read something like mockery on the thin, royal lips. For an instant he ventured to protest. "But, your Majesty--" he began, but he got no further. The King checked him with a frown and a raised hand. It was easy to make him obstinate in crossing a follower. "You have heard my commands," he said, sternly. Sir Rufus bowed his head and retreated. There was nothing else for him to do. He just glanced at Brilliana as he went out. If Brilliana had seen the glance she would have read his rage and hate in it. But she did not see it, for her head was still averted. The King saw it, however, and he felt that the situation was alive. He turned to Brilliana. "I am a complaisant monarch, as I think," he said. "Now, lady, do your best to make your sweetheart see reason. Honestly, I do not think he is worth so many words, but you think otherwise, and for your sake I wish you a winning tongue." Brilliana bowed deeply. "I humbly thank your Majesty," she said, and felt that the King had done much for her. From offering the impossible he had come to offering the possible. It seemed a little task to persuade a lover committed to a wrongful cause to lay aside his sword and wait the issue. The King's eyes had fallen on his papers again, and he did not lift them thence nor take heed of Brilliana again until the tread of feet was heard in the corridor. In another moment Evander, escorted by two royal troopers, entered the room. There was a sudden gladness in his eyes at the sight of Brilliana, but he at once saluted the King in a military fashion and stood quietly at attention waiting the royal word. Charles rose from his chair, and for a moment his melancholy eyes travelled from the beautiful girl standing by the window to the gallant soldier standing by the door. The face of Evander pleased his scrutiny far more than the face of Rufus, and it came into his mind that he would gladly enroll Evander under his standard and hand over Rufus to the Crop-ears. Truly the Puritan soldier and the Lady of Loyalty House made a brave pair. "Sir," he said, quietly, "this lady desires speech with you, and has persuaded me to permit an interview." He turned to the troopers.