"And pray, sir," at length inquired the elder, "what news may be now
stirring in France? You have, I presume, but recently arrived from
thence?"
"I have been in France, but not lately."
"In the Netherlands, then? for I take it you are given to the carnal
follies of the times, and have been cherished in the heresies, religious
and political, propagated by a person or persons assuming a particular
rank, which the Almighty saw fitting to wrest from them now many days
past."
"I have not, as I think, been brought up in any heresy," replied the
youth, gently but firmly, "and I should be sorry so brave a gentleman
and so expert a swordsman thought so: though I do not feel myself bound
to give you any information touching my private opinions, which I hold
to be as distinctly my own property as my hat or sword----"
"And which," said the stranger, "is, perhaps, the only property you are
possessed of."
"Exactly so, sir; but persons of a lower estate than mine have lately
risen to high places,--ay, and carry themselves as loftily as if they
were born to lord it over not only empire, but empires."
"Ah! true: then, I suppose, you would fain seek service; and if so, I
think my poor word would be of use. I am somewhat esteemed by the
Protector and other props of this great Commonwealth, and would gladly
tender my aid to you, to whom I am already strongly bound."
"I thank you for your bounty, sir; but at present I feel inclined to
sheathe, not draw my sword."
"But why? A youth like you, gifted with courage, skill, and health,--the
state demands some activity at your hands; 'tis ill to be a laggard."
"Nor am I one. Frankly, I like not innovation, and this state has been
experimentalising lately:--in a word, I like it not."
"That is a candid confession, more candid than your former words would
have led me to expect. But, young gentleman, it is not safe to trust
such sentiments into a stranger's keeping: the Lord Protector has, it is
said, his spies in every house; nay, it is reported the highways grow
them as rife as blackberries."
"And you may be one, for aught I know or care," said the youth bluntly.
"But what of that?--they say Old Noll likes in others what he hath not
yet practised himself--a thing called honesty; and at worst, he could
but take my life, which, after all, is little worth in comparison to
those he has already taken."