"No. Cromwell poked the fire to let them see he could do it; but he did not want to burn every one. He has made known to England and to Europe, and especially to France, his vigilance. He has escaped the death they intended for him. He has proved to the Royalists, by Gerard’s and Vowell’s execution, that he will not spare them because they are Englishmen. Beyond this he will not go. It is enough. Most of the forty were only tools. It is not Cromwell’s way to snap at the stick, but at the cowardly hands that hold it." "If he can reach them," muttered Matilda. "Then, Sir Thomas, we have united Scotland to the Commonwealth. Kingship is abolished there; vassalage and slavish feudal institutions are swept away; heritors are freed from military service. Oh, ’tis a grand union for the Scotch common people! I say nothing of the nobles; no reparation has been made them—they don’t deserve any; they are always invading England on one pretext or another. But they cannot now force the poor heritors to throw down their spades and flails, and carry spears for them. The men may sow their wheat and barley, and if it will ripen in their cold, bleak country, they can bake and brew it, and eat and drink it in peace." "I do not believe Englishmen like this union, Doctor. I do not—it is all in favour of Scotland. They have nothing to give us, and yet we must share all our glory and all our gains with them. They do not deserve it. They have done nothing for their own freedom, and we have made them free. They have no commerce, and we must share ours with them. And they are a proud, masterful people; they will not be mere buttons on the coat-tails of our rulers. Union, indeed! It will be a cat and a dog union." "I know, Sir Thomas, that Englishmen feel to Scotchmen very much as a scholar does to Latin—however well he knows it, it is not his mother tongue. What we like, has nothing to do with the question. It is England’s labour and duty and honour to give freedom to all over whom her Red Cross floats; to share her strength and security with the weak and the vassal, and her wine and her oil and her purple raiment with the poverty-stricken. England must open her hands, and drop blessings upon the deserving and the undeserving; yes, even where the slave does not know he is a slave, she must make him free." "And get kicked and reviled for it." "To be sure—the rough side of the tongue, and the kick behind always; but even slavish souls will find out what freedom means, if we give them time." "But, Doctor——" "But me no buts, Sir Thomas. Are we not great enough to share our greatness? I trow we are!" "I confess, Doctor, that in spite of what you say, my patriotism dwells between the Thames and the Tyne."