The Protector's Secret, or, the Puritan's daughter. A Romance

Chapter I. Old London

— THE NIGHT SEARCH. — HIE CAPTUKE.— AN APPEAL, The sun had sunk to rest some hours, and a cold blusterous wind, was sweeping through the streets of old London, in the year 105 2, upon a night most memorable in the history of the kingdom, when dimly visible like a black floating mass upon the waters, a small boat was rowed from Whitehall towards tlie city. The Thames was at high tide, and the water beat with a sullen roar, upou a loiif No. 1. ; OR, 2 line of shingle that was'at the hack of the garden walls of the houses, that came down to the hank of the river. ... , , There were four persons in the boat, two of those were soldiers, as their steel caps, cuirasses aud arms sufficiently testified, and they sat apart from the other two, who were dressed as civilians, -iiitf w^ conversed together m eager W OMof these was a tall fair haired map. of ingenuous aspect The other was short and thick-set, of features almost repulsively ugly, aud with a peculiar ex pression about the lower jaw, that gave a great character ot ferocity to the whole 3 The fair man was Colonel Vernon, of Crppivyell's own regimpflt pf horse— the thick-set man was Oliver Cromwell himsf.lf- , . . „ „ " And so you thiuk, Vernon, that this tale is 8 true one," wlfjsppred Cromwell, with something of a sneer.

" True enouah," replied Vernon, " to be worth piWJPg a misffjjcp. Providence may this night ilirnw into your hands him whP WPUW W 0 disturbance to you, and England, while ])e lived." " Prqyidenee I Vernon, the ways of Providence aro iiwstenous, j»pa therefore we will rpsprvp mentio» of it, and its probable or possible interfprpucc with our affairs, for she uiultit ude, who want such ft guide star aiTWBg clouds. We ayp men, anc) look toiTiflilies." » fmly, general-" , , , ,,. •i And sp, Veniqp— «AU I whither are the knaves rpi, ng ? The bo&tjppn who madp up the number of persops in the |it||p W»prry to six, wjiiph wps qi^ite as many m with any amount of safety it po^Jd PWTJ, were passing the' lauding place near to Buckingham-street, which was the destination flf the party. " The tide, ypur honour," said PUP Of the boatmpfl, "Well.

The tides" " Why, your honqqi' spps it rpps like a null stream here, and we must go past Ci .t'l.'s-c'i ,1c, a bit, to |un in," „.,„.. . Cromwell giive mm of WOSP gi'UUts, IH»» l»e usually indulged in, W \m "PPis statement was made to iiini *yl*-c)i *ie M w »*irw»* *->' disputing, wj a few moments the hea4 of tijfi OOH-t was run im toiyards afow wiiuden steps, that led tfi the garden of a large old rambling castellated mansion, called Oroft's -p as|-le, which there stood. mere _luuu. Colopel Vernpu sjmfcp a few words to tk watermen whp nodded, and made the boat fast, after wiliPHlie and Oliver Cromwell, and the two soldiers who were dismounted troopers from the colonel's regiment, ascended the wooden steps, and pushing open a small gate, were fairly iu tlie garden. Cromwell's rjs|it hand was plunged into f 1)6 preast of his apparel, and in all prQ bability grasnpif some weapon, she cumbrous and clumsy fitting of his cloatblng, sufficiently proclaimed the presence of defensive armour beneath it.

He turned pompletely rppnd neveral tinips, as jf to be quite sure that no one was close at dapd. " Should yppr cousin be right," said Cromwell to Vemon, "This will be a great night in English history." " Indeed, general, it, will." " Aye, in more ways than one. We shall see. Come on, and mark me, troopers, if I raise my hand thus, sire your carbines iuto the breast of him towards whom my glance is fully directed. It will be the Lord's work ! Come on, Vernon. We should be compassionate, aud charitible to our fellow creatures ; aud so your cousin reports, that at night, one hour or so after sunset, a young cavalier iu a boat by himself takes refuge here, but does not leave until near to sun rise, when he repairs on board the Dutch vessel, which we have already in vain searched." " Even so." " And that in appearance, he is like Charles P" " Yes, general."

" 'Tig well. The old fox has fallen to the hunters. It will be well if we can unkennel the young one, and yet this man, who calls himself ' Walk-in-the-right ! path Strangeways' has a good repute." " The caut of religion, general, is a garb so accommodating, that any fool may wear it, how much easier must it be to a knave." " Indeed. Ah ! If the Lord be wiUing, we shall do wonders." While Cromwell and his friend, are slowly and noiselessly making their way up the long garden of the house, which together with all its appurtenances was demolished long ago, we will take a glance at its interior and its inhabitants. In a large gaunt-looking room sat Walk-in-the-right-path Strangeways, with bis family, consisting of his wife smd daughter — the former as prim and starched a piece of humanity as London could produce, aud the latter as fair and gentle a looking creature, as the eye of day ever looked upon.

Mary Strangeways was indeed eminently loveable. She was sixteen years of age, but looked one year older. Surely it was some freak of nature, that bestowed upon such persons as the Strangeways, such a pure, fresh, guileless and beautiful creature, as Mary for a daughter. Certainly she monopolised all that was good and gentle in Croft's-castle to herself entirely. There was a visible agftation in Mary's manner, as she rose and approached her father and mother, to receive their blessing for the night. Strangeways fixed his little cold, grey eyes upon her, as he said,— • " Again this agitation and change of colour. The Lord be with us all !" "Amen!" said Mrs. Strangeways. " I thought," added the father, in a canting, puritanical tone, " I thought that when along with so many more of the ungodly, this city was rid of the malignant i young man named Charles Courtney, that you would have turned your attentions as 1 wished you, to the pious Pear-no-man-in-the-gospel Muggs."

A shriek burst from Mrs. Strangeways, for the door of the room opened at this moment, aud in rolled the one serving man of the family, looking the picture of consternation and dismay, while close upon his footsteps followed Cromwell, Vernon, and the two troopers. Even Strangeways got up in his frightand moving away two steps from his chair, sat upon ihe floor with the expectation of regaining it, as Cromwell, in a loud voice, said, — " Stir not, on your lives, Do you know me V " The general ?" . " Aye, Heaven's general. Vernon, can you amuse this pious family awhile, and I will please myself by looking through the ancient house with these two gospelloving soldiers. Who knows but We may be repaid by finding some great curiosity ?" " Oh, no, no, no," cried Mary. " I, I — no, no." Cromwell darted forward and grasped her bv the wrist.

" Speak, maiden," he cried. " Speak as though you stood upon the shore of that sea which washes the eternal land. Speak." Mary looked terrified, and well she might, at the vehemence of that man, who, when he chose to terrify, certainly possessed the art of doing so iu uo common degree. She did not, however, make any revelation which, on the impulse of the moment he expected and wished her to do. " Go to," he said, as he cast her hand from him. " We must do the good work ourselves. Follow me." These last words were addressed to the two troopers, and Oliver Cromwell, with them close upou his heels, moved towards a door which was opposite to that at which he had entered. Mary sprung after him. " Sir," she Eaid, " from what my father has said, I recognize in you General Cromwell." "WeU." . THE PROTECTOR'S SECRET ; OR, " What do you seek here ?

What do you hope to find ?" He fixed his keen eyes upon her, and replied, " What you and your parents, there, know is hidden." u " Nay, verily and truly," said Strangeways, gathering himself to his feet, there is nought hidden here." , " Really. Well, we will endeavour by an active and unscrupulous search to verify the words of so pious a man. Remember, sir, this house is now on all points surrounded by sentinels upon whom I know I can depend. Escape is impossible. Give up him whom I seek, and save your life. If I have to find him, a military execution will be the reward of the harbourer of the man with the most dangerous name that can be uttered in England." „ Walk-in-the-right-path Strangeways looked the 'picture of amazement, and in anothcif moment Cromwell left the room. Hejwas closely followed by Mary, despite the opposition of the troopers, and darting past the party, she dashed up a large oaken staircase at such speed that to stop her was impossible.

With a very irreligious kind of oath, Cromwell, closely followed by his two sol diers, pursued her. " Charles, Charles," she cried. " Fly, fly." " By Heaven ! he is here," shouted Cromwell. A door was slammed shut in his face by Mary, and so Aarply too that it actually struck him. To dash himself against it and force it open was the work of a moment, and with the two soldiers he stood upon the floor of a small bed-room. Mary was there with her hands clasped, and looking as though she had wrought up her mind to some great purpose. "He is here," cried Cromwell. " Oh, what has he done to you," said Mary, " that you should seek his life ? What offence can he have committed against you ? Mercy and justice forbid you to harm him." Cromwell looked round the room. A light burnt upon a small bracket in the wall above the chimney-piece; opposite to it was a door connecting with a small closet.

One glance at the eyes of Mary sufficed to convince him — for in such matters he was sagacious beyond all ordinary sagacity— that it was in that closet some one was hidden. That it was the object of his search he had little doubt, and if ever Cromwell thought himself upon the point of gaining possession of Charles the Second, he did upon this eventful evening. " Fire into that closet," he said to the troopers. The command was given with that stern deliberation with which he was accus tomed to say things that he really meant. Then two rough-looking carbines that the troopers carried with them were on the instant presented towards the door of the closet. Another moment and they would have been discharged, had not Mary with a shriek of agony that even reached the ears of Colonel Vernon and her parents iu the room, rushed forward, and flung herself before the door of the closet, so that if the soldiers had fired, there is little doubt but that she would have fallen a sacrifice to the bullets.

" No, no," she cried, " spare him. Rold bad man that you are, Oliver Cromwell, I dare you thus to shed innocent blood. Let the stain of human gore that is already upon thy soul suffice thee." Cromwell's countenance turned of an ashy paleness, and he could only say, in a voice terribly indicative of suppressed passion, — * "This will be remembered. You confess he is here ?" " Yes, yes." " Charles ?" " Yes, Charles." " Triumph, triumph ! This is the moment I have longed " The closet door opened from within, and a young man, of most strikin _y hand some appearance, but very plainly attired, although his long hair, hangiu° in waving curls over his shoulders, proclaimed him a cavalier, made his appearance, and confronted Cromwell. With a groan the Lord Protector, that was to be, stepped back. " It is not he," he gasped, " it is not he I" The closet was small, and a glance sufficed to convince Cromwell that no one else was there.

In a voice now of thunder, he cried,— " Who are you, malignant ? Who are you, that have deceived the Lord's people, by assuming the character of that Charles who claims to be second king of his name, but who has been smitten down from his high place ?" " I assume no character but my own," said the young cavalier, proudly. " My name is Charles Courtney." _ " Ha !" sneered Cromwell, " and the bed-chamber companion of Walk-in-the right-path Strangeways' only daughter ?" "My husband," said Mary, with quiet dignity, as she entwined her arm in that of Charles Courtney, " my husband, sir. You are worse than ordinary intruders in this place."