Great Britain -- History -- Commonwealth and Protectorate, 1649-1660 -- Fiction; Historical fiction
“It is for that I have been dealing with thee thus long,” said the
General.—“I told thee that I was something unwilling, upon slight
occasion, to dispossess the sequestrators by my own proper warrant,
although having, perhaps, sufficient authority in the state both to do
so, and to despise the murmurs of those who blame me. In brief, I would
be both to tamper with my privileges, and make experiments between
their strength, and the powers of the commission granted by others,
without pressing need, or at least great prospect of advantage. So, if
thy Colonel will undertake, for his love of the Republic, to find the
means of preventing its worst and nearest danger, which must needs
occur from the escape of this young Man, and will do his endeavour to
stay him, in case his flight should lead him to Woodstock, which I hold
very likely, I will give thee an order to these sequestrators, to
evacuate the palace instantly; and to the next troop of my regiment,
which lies at Oxford, to turn them out by the shoulders, if they make
any scruples—Ay, even, for example’s sake, if they drag Desborough out
foremost, though he be wedded to my sister.”
“So please you, sir,” said Wildrake, “and with your most powerful
warrant, I trust I might expel the commissioners, even without the aid
of your most warlike and devout troopers.”
“That is what I am least anxious about,” replied the General; “I should
like to see the best of them sit after I had nodded to them to begone—
always excepting the worshipful House, in whose name our commissions
run; but who, as some think, will be done with politics ere it be time
to renew them. Therefore, what chiefly concerns me to know, is, whether
thy master will embrace a traffic which hath such a fair promise of
profit with it. I am well convinced that, with a scout like thee, who
hast been in the cavaliers’ quarters, and canst, I should guess, resume
thy drinking, ruffianly, health-quaffing manners whenever thou hast a
mind, he must discover where this Stewart hath ensconced himself.
Either the young Lee will visit the old one in person, or he will write
to him, or hold communication with him by letter. At all events,
Markham Everard and thou must have an eye in every hair of your head.”
While he spoke, a flush passed over his brow, he rose from his chair,
and paced the apartment in agitation. “Woe to you, if you suffer the
young adventurer to escape me!—you had better be in the deepest dungeon
in Europe, than breathe the air of England, should you but dream of
playing me false. I have spoken freely to thee, fellow—more freely than
is my wont—the time required it. But, to share my confidence is like
keeping a watch over a powder-magazine, the least and most
insignificant spark blows thee to ashes. Tell your master what I
said—but not how I said it—Fie, that I should have been betrayed into
this distemperature of passion!— begone, sirrah. Pearson shall bring
thee sealed orders—Yet, stay—thou hast something to ask.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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