Argosy All-Story Weekly, Vol. 123, No. 4 — page 145: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE PROGRESS this lad drew his sword in her service, she Gid spurn his last word, preferring death to the touch of his slythey hands!” How much of all this matter, which Bun- yan stated as fWt, was arrived at by rea- soning, information, or mere intuition, I did not know at the time; but I have since learned that he had the right of it all. There was silence; whether on the part of Cromwell because he failed to see how this was concerned with the king’s escape, I did not know until he bowed to Mistress Joyce and said: “‘T know not which to admire the more,. madam—your loyalty or your purity.” ‘“‘ And I will put one to that!” I cried, ‘forgetting my position for the moment. “ The king himself—” “Oh, I pray thee—no!” Joyce again pleaded, all crimson confusion. “I pray thee ha’ mercy on a poor maid!” “ Be still!” boomed Cromwell, glaring at me. “ That glib tongue o’ thine ha’ forgot the rope which may yet thicken it.” I subsided, a little ashamed of my mis- taken zeal. I did not, on second thought, ” see how the matter of the king’s infatua- tion could help the situation. “But one question I have to ask ye, mistress,”’ said: Cromwell presently. ‘‘ Who was the traitor Roundhead or Royalist agent in ironside dress, who entered that room, shot down this lad Brooke, and aided the king’s escape?”’ ‘* Nothing, sir, should bring his name to my lips had he served his king with un- divided interest. Even that he saved the king, for which common service I was bound to tolerate him, even that he had provided the means for that escape to Chester on the very night Master Brooke came to the manor, hath no weight with me now, for at the same time he was serving two masters that he might serve himself. He is traitor to both sides, and from.each he hath taken his wage.” . ‘His name, mistress?” said Cromwell coldly. “That man,” said Joyce, pointing a quivering forefinger at Master Jonas Sly- they, who promptly fell on his knees, groveling at her feet and begging her to uinsay the words. OF J. BUNYAN. 651 It was a curious scene. To me, and to John Bunyan, who lifted his hands above his head and began to return thanks to Heaven, the revelation was not so much of a revelation after all. The fact had dawned upon me, at least, gradually. But to Cromwell it came as a bolt of surprise. He had not suspected ¢his depth of moral obliquity in his paid spy. Yet he betrayed no sign of surprise, only surveying the groveling, driveling creature object which had now crawled from Mis- tress Joyce’s feet to the table and was weeping and babbling around the latter’s wooden legs. When Cromwell again spoke it was quite casually to Sergeant Okey in the door- way. ‘You will convey my respects to.Colo- nel Morley,” said he, “and say that the gallows parade will not reassemble. ’Tis not fit honest men should witness such dis- honor. “ But stay!” he added as Okey, saluting, was about to go. | For a half-minute Cromwell stood there in frowning thought, his eyes full of grim irony, upon the gibbering creature clinging to the table legs. “Twere a pity,” said he slowly, “ yon fine Upas tree should bear no fruit. Take that thing away and let me not see it again.” a : oe CHAPTER XIX. THE BELLS! HEN Okey and his guard left the room, escorting Jonas Slythey to that gibbet which had been erected for me, I realized that it was just possible I myself was not to escape altogether un- scathed. | Cromwell seemed to be weighing in his mind just what degree of punishment my foolhardy and unauthorized acts deserved. It was Mistress Joyce, I am sure, who tipped the scales of justice-in my favor. “Craving your excellency’s patience,” she said with a winning smile, “‘ ’tis but just I should tell you something further.” Cromwell nodded assent. rUOTTI go GOOOK (A)