"Will your Highness permit?" inquired Constantia, rising from her own
seat, and pushing it towards the Rabbi.
"Most certainly," was Cromwell's prompt reply; "our friend is aged, but
he is welcome; and we have news that will gladden his heart." In an
instant all trace of the servility which custom had imposed upon the
manners of the children of Israel vanished. The Rabbi stood upright, and
clasping his hands together, exclaimed, "My child! my child!"
"The lost sheep is found--blessed be the Lord!--safe here, within this
house--and I lay my commands upon her father that she be received as a
stray lamb from the fold, and warmed within his bosom. We have all
children, good Rabbi; and the Lord judge between us and them, they are
stiffnecked and stubborn! All, more or less, all--except one or two who
shine forth as bright examples;--such is my own Elizabeth, and such also
is Mistress Constantia here."
"She is found!" repeated the Jew; "but they talked of crime--of her
having--I cannot speak it, please your Highness, but you know what I
would say. Peradventure gold might be made to atone."
"Peace, good friend!" interrupted Oliver sternly; "justice must have its
due; and, by God's blessing, while we are Protector, all the gold your
tribe is worth shall not turn the scale! We would be merciful for
mercy's sake; but for justice--Yet pardon me," he added in compassion to
the Rabbi's horror, "I would not trifle with a father's feelings--she is
guiltless of murder."
He struck the table with the butt-end of his pistol--a private door of
the library opened as of itself--not one, but two females stood beneath
its shadow, each supporting each, as if the one weak creature thought
she could lend a portion of much needed strength to the other. Lady
Frances and Constantia sprang from their seats--all distinction of rank
was forgotten, and Mistress Cecil wept over her affectionate
bower-maiden, as an elder over a younger sister, or even as a mother
over a beloved child. She asked no questions, but kissed her brow and
wept; while Barbara stood curtseying, and smiling, and crying, and
glancing with evident satisfaction, amid her tears, towards her father
and Robin, as if she would have said, "See how my lady, my grand lady,
loves me!"
It did not escape the observation of Lady Frances that Barbara wore the
chain she had given her, and she most heartily wished her father at
Whitehall, or elsewhere, that she might have an opportunity of asking
all the questions at once suggested by her busy brain.