to pray yonder among the Swedes in Germany." He had taken in the whole circumstances, as his prayer showed. They all knelt, and he poured out an intercession full of child-like faith and prophet-like eloquence-full of tender personal allusions, mixed with choice Scripture passages, entering into the peculiar position of husband and bride, parents and friends,—the joys and the fears of all. At last he seemed to ascend with them a hill of transfiguration very near Heaven, yet still within reach of earth, where they only knew and cared that they were now and ever in the hand of God and in the presence of Jesus. When it ended, and they rose, George held his hand, thanking him warmly, and begged all to retire, and leave him with Cromwell alone a few minutes; "for," said he, "I know events will not let you stay here long, and I wonder how you could come at all, and am very grateful for it." When they were alone, there was a little pause, which Cromwell broke, saying, George, first let me own I was wrong to you before Naseby. I ought to have known you better. Forgive me. I have hard work among so many, and am apt to be suspicious by finding out the selfishness of others."

"It has been long forgiven," said George; "I love you too well not to bear anything from you. Oh, you will need grace, my friend, on your high and almost kingly path. I hope the army will not break with the Parliament, and that you may never be impatient of English liberty. I wanted, however, to commend to you my wife and brother when I am gone."

"It is so, then!" said Cromwell, brushing away a tear. “I lose another son in you. Poor dear Henry! Well, we must all stand ready for the Master's call, and you have shared a decisive victory here. Be sure I shall never forget you or yours."

Then George explained the position of Edward, and his wish to draw him from his old associations.

"I'll tell you what," said Cromwell; "he shall be one of the new masters of one of the Cambridge colleges under the Parliament; and if the Count likes him to hold his living, and even use his Prayer Book,-well, we do not mean to persecute good and quiet men. Yes, I think I can set that straight. And so, George, we must say farewell. I have had much of that lately. But you are very near to me. We will part as good soldiers of Jesus Christ. May you have an 'abundant admission into His everlasting kingdom,' and may our next rendezvous be at His right hand.'"

"Farewell, true friend! Before we meet, may you have the glory of settling England in a free and Christian way of liberty, and of reforming our Church after apostolic fashion. Then we shall meet in victory and joy above."

So Cromwell left his friend, and passed into the chamber where the rest were waiting, as in a sort of levée, to greet him. Cromwell reassumed the commanding dignity which already sat well upon him, and passed round the circle. saying kind and comforting words to all. Speaking to Edward and May, he said, "Keep near the Heavenly Master, young people. Love one another in Him. You, sir, are in orders; but you may be hampered for a time in your ministry. I shall try to open the path for all godly and earnest men. What was your college at Cambridge?" "— College," replied Edward.

"It has no master now.

For your brother's sake, whom we cannot reward as he deserves, I think I can promise you that honourable post, if you can hold it loyally under 'the powers that be.'

"General, I have my convictions. I should prefer a college life to any, but

"I will hear no buts now. Think of it, and pray over it. Don't rashly set yourself to perpetuate England's conflict when there is hope of peace. I shall communicate with you again."

Many thanks, General; I will do as you say."

"Sir," said May, "let me say how we all prize your friendship, and can never forget your sympathy on this strange day."

Cromwell paused before Bridge, and said, "You have done your part nobly in the Assembly of Divines. You had tremendous opposition to meet. The Lord stood by you. I had rather have fought at Naseby many times than had to meet with argument and good temper the conceit and bigotry of those stiff Presbyterian parsons. You five fought a Thermopyla for English religion in the future. The free Churches you are setting up over the country are garrisons for loyalty and progress. I may have at times to bow in the temple of Rimmon for the nation's sake, but my heart is with you. Hold on the Lord bless the work of your hands!"

Bridge bowed deeply, and thanked him with glistening

eye.

66

Cromwell next addressed the Count, assuring him of firm friendship for Holland, and the prosecution of liberty abroad with a vigorous hand. Yes, I will have the priests and tyrants of Europe to know that a spirit is awake in England which will no longer bear with their cruelties to their Protestant subjects. The fleets and soldiers of England were better employed in redressing these wrongs than in fighting here at home. You I hope to see much in London, and shall expect from you most valuable information on foreign matters."

Then turning to the lady, he said in a gentle voice, "Lady, still use your influence in bringing yonder young priest to moderate his unreasonable notions. I know of your pretty church at Heston-Milton told me some tender passages concerning its parsonage. Now get them there, and let him preach and use his prayers and do good among the folk. I shall have to enlist your aid, lady, in many such social transformations for England's good. There is

some good in the early training of a courtier-you have it, and we must employ it. I believe in the virtuous and useful diplomacy of women."

"For such purposes, General, I am at your service," was the Lady Gabrielle's response.

Cromwell then moved away to pay a brief visit to George's father ere he departed, but in crossing the hall he met Ann, weeping bitterly. He instantly went up to her, took her hand kindly, saying, "Poor lass, what ails thee? I recollect thee when I was here last, sweeping the room. Hast forgotten to sweep thy heart's chamber always the first thing? Why, then, such bitter tears?"

"Oh, sir," said Ann, "you are good; but my poor master!-I knew him from a brave, dear boy; and he and Mistress Alice!-I knew their love so long;-I so longed and prayed for their happy marriage! My God! how canst Thou look down and end it all like this-he dying and she heartbroken! But, sir, I forget myself: who am I, to talk so to your honour?"

My poor woman, I am sorry for you and for the grief of your faithful heart; but never fall out with your Godyour best friend, who looks down and does this just because He sees it is best. Did not He look down and see His Son die on Calvary to save us all? Was not that worse?—and yet how has it turned out! Our Colonel here, and many another noble fellow, has given up his life for England. He walked in Christ's footsteps, and is going early to his crown. Would you hold him back? Your mistress would not. She is not broken-hearted, believe me. She will live a life of unselfish goodness. You will help her. Brave and good servants are our best helpers in care and sorrow."

Ann clasped her hands, saying, "Blessing on you! So great and glorious from your victory, to speak so friendly to a poor servant, and comfort her better than a parson! However the rich and great may use you, the honour and blessing of such as us will glorify your name."

CHAPTER XLIV.

THE WIDOW'S HOME.

"Eins steht in Leben nie allein

Ruh ist nur wo sich's regt

Wer mich versteht-ganz still zu sein
Der war auch nie bewegt."

CAROLINE LEONHARDT LYSER.

HE Colonel survived his wedding long enough to have interviews with all his friends. Cromwell sent messages, together with a General's com

mission, as a token of the thanks and esteem of the Parliament for his distinguished services. George expressed his gratification, though such honours were now of little moment to him. Gradually, however, strength for friendly converse failed, and he could bear nothing but a word or two from Alice-chiefly well-known and golden texts from the living oracles of sacred Scripture. The end came very peacefully.

Seldom was such a funeral known in Norwich. The whole space of Tombland was covered by a silent, sad throng. The carriages of the nobles were escorted by the poor of Pocthorpe. The soldiers of his own regiment from the Castle fired their farewell salvos over the grave. Not long after the good father, Alderman Sherwood, followed his son George to the better land, with almost a repetition of like public grief and honour. Alice, sustained till then by active duty, now gave way, and for some time was severely ill. So soon as the disorder abated, the Count and Countess