"We have rendered some justice to-night," said Cromwell, after striding
once or twice the length of the apartment. "Yet is our task not
finished, although the morning watch is come. Without there! Desire
Colonel Jones that he remove Sir Willmott Burrell to the apartment he
before occupied. The morning sun shall witness the completion of the
ceremony between him and her he has so deeply wronged. We will then
consider the course that justice may point out to us. Dalton, you are a
free man, free to come and free to go, and to go as soon and where you
please. Observe, I said as soon." Dalton bowed lowly, and moved to
raise his daughter from the spot on which she had crouched by the seat
of her beloved mistress; Robin instinctively moved also.
"Stay!" continued the Protector, "there is yet more to do. Young man,
you must be well aware your act of this night demands some punishment.
The ship which you destroyed--." Dalton writhed at the remembrance, and
Barbara half unclosed her gentle lips.
"Please your Highness, I knew the man's affection for his ship, and I
loved him better than the timber; he would have destroyed me in his
anger but for poor Barbara."
"That is nothing to us; at the least, fetters must be your portion."
Barbara involuntarily sank on her knees, in an attitude of supplication.
Robin knelt also, and by her side.
So touching was the scene, that Cromwell smiled while he laid his hand
on her head, and with the other raised the long chain his daughter had
given the modest bower-maiden, and which had remained suspended from her
neck, he threw it over the shoulders of Robin, so that it encircled them
both.
"We are clumsy at such matters," he continued, "but the Lord bless you!
and may every virtuous woman in England meet with so warm a heart, and
so wise a head, to love her and direct her ways--though the outward
fashioning of the man be somewhat of the strangest."