"Betty, it hath come," he said; "it is to be laid on me, the burden, yea, the whole burden. Mine was the responsibility," his rough voice rose a little. "I put down the King, I broke the Parliament—I set up the officers who failed (the more blame to me)—and now it is I who must guide the State."
"Thou?" murmured Elisabeth.
"Who else?" he continued moodily, "who else? It is a call from God and the people, and no man could ask for more. Yea, I know the Lord hath called me as He called me ten years ago from St. Ives—this is thy work—get thou up and do it!"
"Thou—wilt thou be King?" asked Elisabeth, dropping his hand with a shiver of fear.
"Even so," he replied sombrely; "but not with the name of a thing so hated shall I be called. Some time ago this came to me as the thing to do—a flash out of a cloud—then darkness came again; but now it is before me, very clearly, that I must be the Governor of England."
"It is a high calling and an awful place to hold," said his daughter.
"And I am sick in the body, often and often tired in the soul. Thou dost know," he added, with a kind of passion, "how very, very willing I was to retire after Worcester fight; often upon riding the rough ways in Scotland, often when sick in Ireland, have I dreamt to come back to a meek, sweet retirement, but it was not to be. God sought me out again and bid me go forward. And now there is this come upon me. Betty, I shall soon be fifty-five years old. I feel myself, in many ways, old. But there is this work to do. And it is for England. Yet how shall I prevail where these upright and wise ones failed? For they strove earnestly, yet God would not have them. Will He forsake me also? 'Oh, that I had wings like a dove, then would I fly away and be at rest!' Lo, then would I wander far off and remain in the wilderness. I would hasten my escape from the windy storm and tempest!"
And his head drooped on his breast as if he was discouraged.
Elizabeth took his inert hand again between her fresh, warm palms.