The return of the party relieved Eustace from all fear of owing an obligation to Morgan. An ordinance from Parliament had interrupted the regular returns of public justice, and notwithstanding the King's command, that there should be no suspension of judicial proceedings, with respect either to criminal or civil causes, and his grant of safe-conduct through his quarters to all persons attending the courts of law, the Parliament had forbidden the judges to appoint their circuits. In one instance a troop of horse tore a judge from the bench, who had ventured to disobey their edicts. Except therefore in the few places that were at the King's devotion, all legal proceedings of importance were suspended, and the little business which was transacted was managed by a cabal devoted to the predominant party. From such men Dr. Beaumont could look for no favour. Ample indemnification was indeed promised, but it was upon a condition that he could not brook, namely, subscription to the covenant. As to his two friends, Sir William Waverly and Morgan, the former was detained at home by an apprehension that he might take cold; and the latter, though he argued on the justice and policy of remuneration, by which the party would gain credit, yet on being questioned about his pastor's principles, confessed he thought him a malignant of the deepest die, and positively refused to be responsible for his peaceable behaviour.
Dr. Beaumont had formed no hopes of redress, therefore felt no disappointment. He was now so accustomed to the temper of the times, that he was only slightly hurt at being thought capable of compromising his conscience, by subscribing an instrument he had ever denounced as illegal, treasonable, and wicked. The dutiful attentions of his nephew and niece soon changed vexation into pleasure. Mrs. Mellicent' overlooked the omissions of her crocodiles and elephants, and Constance touched the strings of her beloved instrument with a smile, sweet as the strain she drew from its according wires, till Eustace forgot all his labours and bruises in exulting transport.
These things, indeed, you have articulated,
Proclaim'd at market-tables, read at churches,
To face the garment of rebellion
With some fine colour that may please the eye
Of fickle changelings and poor discontents,
Which gape and rub the elbows at the news
Of hurly burly innovation;