"Thou art worthy," he remarked; "but what shall I say of thee?" his narrowed grey eyes rested on Mr. Hyde's florid face. "Thou art he who bloweth neither hot nor cold."
"I am like to blow hot enough, I think," returned Mr. Hyde, "unless thou blow more cold."
"Wherein have I vexed thee?" asked Oliver Cromwell, with a pleasantness that might have covered contempt.
"Your party is too extreme, sir," said the Viscount earnestly. "You press too hard upon the weakness of His Majesty. What we set out to gain hath been gained and safeguarded by law. You should now go moderately, and, from what I know of your councils, you do not propose moderation."
Mr. Cromwell's face hardened into heavy, almost lowering, lines.
"So you, too, slacken!" he exclaimed. "You would join those who rise up against us! Fie, my lord, I had better hopes."
"Mr. Cromwell," returned the Viscount, "we have been long together on the same road; but if your mind is what I do think it to be, then here we come to a parting, and many Christian gentlemen will follow my way."
Oliver Cromwell regarded him with intense keenness.
"What do you think my mind to be?" he demanded.