Brilliana's cheeks blazed with pleasure. "Oh, the dear man," she cried, with clasped hands of rapture. But there was more to come. "I think," continued Rufus, "it is more than likely that his Majesty will visit Harby--I should say Loyalty House--ere he rides to London." Brilliana thrilled with pride--with pleasure. The air about her seemed to swoon with music, to be sweet as roses, to be spangled with golden motes. X PRISONER OF WAR "I rejoice," she answered, in a voice unsteady with happiness--such might have been the voice of Semele at the coming of her god--"I rejoice that Loyalty House boasts a roof to shelter his Majesty. For I was minded to blow the place to pieces rather than yield it to this gentleman who would so speciously persuade me to surrender." As she spoke she glanced disdainfully in the direction of Evander Cloud, who now for the first time since the irruption of the Cavaliers became in any sense an object of public interest. None of the new-comers had paid any heed to the sombre-habited prisoner; Halfman had forgotten his captive in his jealous study of the men who had raised the siege; Thoroughgood, with the Puritan's sword resting idly on his left arm, was as absorbed in the converse of Sir Rufus and his comrades as were his subordinates Garlinge and Clupp, who, though they gripped their prisoner tightly, were as indifferent to his existence as if he had been the turbaned dummy of a quintain. But now on the instant every glance was turned on Evander, and Sir Rufus, eying him with much disfavor, asked of Brilliana, "Who is your prisoner?" Evander made a step forward unrestrained by his guards, and answered for himself composedly. "I am Captain Cloud, of the parliamentary army, snared under a flag of truce." He was so well restrained in his speech and carriage, so quiet a contrast to the heated gentlemen who glared at him, that to an uninformed observer he might very well have seemed the judge rather than the one on trial. Rufus snapped at him like an angry dog. "Well, you tub-thumper, you see that the gentlemen of England are more than a match for pestilent pennyweight rebels." Evander surveyed his truculent opponent with a tranquil contempt which had its effect in increasing the irritation of the Cavalier. "You play the valiant braggart to a captive," he commented, quietly. Then he turned to Brilliana as one who had no further desire for treaty with a fellow of this kind. "Let me remind you, lady, that I came here under a flag of truce." Brilliana had forgotten Evander in the exhilaration of her relief. But now that he had come into her mind again, so with his image had flooded in again all the prejudices he provoked, the scorn, the hatred. "That plea cannot release you," she answered, hotly. "Your time was up, your sword was drawn; I am very sure you would have joined your men." Evander, whose arms were now released from bondage by Garlinge and Clupp, made a gesture of absolute acquiescence.