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The Puritan's struggles were already becoming mere spasmodic twitchings; his face was as ghastly as the trooper's had been a while ago. "Release him, Kenneth," said Crispin shortly. "He struggles still." "Release him, I say," Galliard repeated, and stooping he caught the lad's wrist and compelled him to abandon his hold. "He will cry out," exclaimed Kenneth, in apprehension.
Hitherto Joseph had been as sincere as he had been earnest, intent alone upon saving his life at all costs, and forgetting in his fear of the present the dangers that the future might hold for him were Crispin Galliard still at large.
Crispin caught not his answer, but his half-whispered words were earnest and pleading. Cromwell shook his head. "I cannot sanction it. Let it satisfy you that he dies. I condole with you in your bereavement, but it is the fortune of war. Let the thought that your son died in a godly cause be of comfort to you.
Crispin and the guilds down, tariffs, syndicates, societies, statistics, social conditions in shoe towns, nationality of operatives, all these could be concisely set forth to show the dimensions, the centers of interest, the social and commercial relations of the business, etc.
There was a spell of silence as the two men sat, both breathing heavily in the gloom that enveloped them. At length: "You have heard my story, Kenneth," said Crispin. "I have heard, Sir Crispin, and God knows I pity you." That was all, and Galliard felt that it was not enough. He had lacerated his soul with those grim memories to earn a yet kinder word.
The door had opened, and on the threshold Sir Crispin Galliard stood, deferentially, hat in hand. Joseph's astonished glance played rapidly over him for a second. Then: "Who the devil may you be?" he blurted out. Despite his anxiety, Gregory chuckled at the question. The Tavern Knight came forward. "I am Sir Crispin Galliard, at your service," said he, bowing.
Crispin quailed and turned his tearful eyes in every direction as if seeking some one or some hiding-place. The curate turned toward him and called to him irritably, the rattan whistled. The child ran to hide himself behind the sacristan, who caught and held him, thus exposing him to the curate's fury. The unfortunate boy fought, kicked, screamed, threw himself on the floor and rolled about.
Moreover, Gregory recalled little or nothing of the words that had passed between them in their cups, save a vague memory that Crispin had said that he had once known Roland Marleigh. Kenneth was content that Galliard should lie idle, and not call upon him to go forth again to lend him the aid he had pledged himself to render when Crispin should demand it.
It was not till a long time afterwards that I learnt these particulars, M. Campan having kept the secret; but an unforeseen event had well-nigh exposed the whole mystery. One day the Queen desired M. Campan to go down into her closet to fetch something that she had forgotten; he was dressed for the character of Crispin, and was rouged.
We have no rope. Your cloak rent in two and the pieces tied together would scarce yield us ten feet. Would you care to jump the remaining sixty?" At the very thought of it the lad trembled, noting which Sir Crispin laughed softly. "There. And yet, boy, it would be taking a risk which if successful would mean life if otherwise, a speedier end than even the rope will afford you.
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