"Bowed his comely head
Down, as upon a bed."
The boy had learned his uncle's lessons too thoroughly to dream of pity or remorse.
It was a complete change when, with his head full of Utopian dreams, "more of an antique Roman" than an Englishman, Dick was sent off to serve under General Monck in the army that was to administer as well as to garrison Scotland. The boy came out of Plutarch into modern life, or out of Paradise into common day. His character was naturally more logical and less high strung than that of his hero; and as the stern realities of life claimed the attention of the young soldier, the ecstatic glories of his uncle's visions faded from his mind, his work absorbed and satisfied him, and he forgot to dream of ideal republics, or even of the Celestial City, in the practical interest of helping to conquer and to govern Scotland.
But when he returned home on flying visits, he found to his dismay that his uncle's visionary hopes were growing instead of fading; and from desiring a merely republican England, General Harrison had begun to dream of a theocracy as complete as that of the early Jews, and to look forward to the immediate inauguration of an earthly Reign of the Saints, under the sceptre of Christ Himself, as the Fifth and last of the great monarchies of the world. Although General Harrison's strong personal fascination and unselfish ardour still commanded his nephew's affection and even admiration, the young man's irreverent common sense could not help viewing these new Fifth Monarchy opinions held by his uncle and his uncle's friends as fitter for Bedlam than for the pulpit or the parliament house. But when the Restoration brought the king's men upper-most, and General Harrison was arrested and carried to the tower, all differences were forgotten, and Dick saw in his uncle the first martyr to die for his share in defending the liberties of England. He accompanied Harrison's heart-broken wife up to her childhood's home in London, and waited with her during the slow months that crept on to the inevitable end.
He had hoped that the consolations of her minister, or the calm of despair, might have brought to her some amount of resignation; but now this wild trust in the power of Prince Rupert had suddenly inspired the poor lady with a crazy vehemence. Even if he had not known her hopes were vain, his proud spirit would have rebelled against crying for mercy to a German soldier of fortune!
"It is worse than folly," he muttered; "it is disgrace to drag General Harrison's name in the dust with fruitless entreaties. We did the great deed, and we abide by the consequences. Even could we say we repented, there yet were no mercy to hope for; but we do not repent! Were it to do again, we should not flinch. The poor flesh may shrink——"
He stopped short, with the irrepressible agony of realization. Death was easy enough to face among the high enthusiasms of the battlefield; but here, in the city, where the busy world was eating and drinking and making money among these sordid surroundings, what radiance of a celestial city could flash from opened gates to support a victim through a torturing death? Could faith win a victory even here?
CHAPTER II.
A NOBLE ENEMY.
"He was a stalwart knight and keen,
And had in many a battle been;
* * * *
His eyebrow dark, and eye of fire,
Show'd spirit proud and prompt to ire;
Yet lines of thought upon his cheek
Did deep design and council speak."
SCOTT.