"I hear we have another Parliament," said Sir Thomas.
"Yes; a hazardous matter for Cromwell," answered the Doctor. "All electors were free to vote, who had not borne arms against the Parliament. Most of them are Episcopalians, who hate Cromwell; and Presbyterians, who hate him still worse; and Republicans, who are sure he wants to be a King; and Fifth Monarchy men and Anabaptists, who think he has fallen from grace. Ludlow, Harrison, Rich, Carew, even Joyce—once his close friends—have become his enemies since he was lifted so far above them. And they have their revenge. Their desertion has been a great grief to the Protector. 'I have been wounded in the house of my friends,' he said to me; and he had the saddest face that ever mortal wore. Yet, it is a great Parliament, freely chosen, with thirty members from Scotland, and thirty from Ireland."
"After Cromwell's experience with the Irish," said Matilda, "I do wonder that he made them equal with Scotland."
"I do wonder at it, also. John Verity would not have done it, not he! But the Protector treads his shoes straight for friend or foe. He will get no thanks from the Irish for fair dealing; that is not enough for them; what they want is all for themselves, and nothing for any one else; and if they got that, they would still cry for more."
At this point Matilda rose and went into an adjoining parlour, and Cymlin followed her. Lady Jevery, reclining in her chair, closed her eyes, and the Doctor and Sir Thomas continued their conversation on Cromwell and on political events with unabated spirit until Lady Jevery, suddenly bringing herself to attention, said—
"All this is very fine talk, indeed; but if this great Oliver has ambassadors from every country seeking his friendship, if he has the wily Mazarin at his disposal, why can he not find out something about that poor Lord Neville? It was said when we were in Paris that Mazarin knew every scoundrel in France, and knew also how to use them. Let him find Neville through them. Has Colonel Ayrton returned, or is he also missing?"
"He returned some time ago. He discovered nothing of importance. It is certain that Neville left the Mazarin palace soon after noon on the seventh of last November; that he went directly to the house in which he had lodged, eat his dinner, paid his bill, and gave the woman a silver Commonwealth crown for favour. She showed the piece to Ayrton, and said further that, soon after eating, a gentleman called on Neville, that in her presence Neville gave him some letters, and that after this gentleman's departure, Neville waited very impatiently for a horse which he had bought that morning, and which did not arrive on time; that when it did arrive, it was not the animal purchased, but that after some disputing, Neville agreed to take the exchange. The horse dealer was a gypsy, and Ayrton spent some time in finding him, and then in watching him. For Ayrton judged—and I am sure rightly—that if the gypsy had followed and slain and robbed Neville, he could not refrain himself from wearing the broidered belt and sapphire ring of his victim. Besides which, your jewels would have been given to the women of his camp. But no sign of these things was found—kerchief, or chain or purse, or any trifle that had belonged to the unfortunate young man."
"Was there any trace of him after he left Paris?"
"Yes. Ayrton found out that he stayed half-an-hour at a little inn fourteen miles beyond Paris to have his horse fed and watered. One of the women at this house described him perfectly, and added that as he waited he was singing softly to himself, a thing so likely, and so like Cluny, that it leaves no doubt in my mind of his identity; and that he was really there 'between gloaming and moonshine' on the eleventh of last November. Beyond that all is blank—a deaf and dumb blank."
"How far was it to the next house?"