"Dost thou see things so easily?" returned the other. "This Earl now will make a fight."
"This Earl will bend," flashed John Pym, "as the King will bend."
"The King?" repeated Mr. Cromwell thoughtfully. "Wilt thou threaten even the rock of Divine authority on which the throne standeth?"
John Pym laid his hand on his friend's arm with a great eagerness and intensity of gesture. He stood now in the full light of the open window, and it was noticeable that, despite his strong and passionate air, his person was emaciated and there was a look of disease and fatigue very marked in his mobile face, as if he felt the full weight of his years.
"Hark ye, Mr. Cromwell," he said, "thou art now much hearkened to in the House and do often obtain the mastery thereof; thou wilt come to great things yet, for, methinks, thou hast power over men; help us now to rid England of this Strafford. I ask thee, for hitherto thou hast kept silence on this matter. And I do not know thy mind on it."
Mr. Cromwell regarded him gravely, almost mournfully.
"Dost thou mean to have the Earl's head?" he asked.
"That is my inner and final meaning—even as it is his to have thine and mine, and that of every man in England who dare speak his mind.'
"Then there is failure before thee," answered Oliver Cromwell, "for this man is the King's friend, and the King will protect him."
"The King will have neither the power nor the will to protect a man whom the Commons demand."