"Lancaster," said the sentry.
"Lancaster," muttered the prisoner, with a slight lift of one eyebrow as he turned back towards his chair.
"Would you like the window shut?"
"Thank you, sir," said Brand, and he fell to thinking.
Midnight was striking when he was suddenly aroused by the Queen's presence. The flutter of her draperies, the scent of roses, the sight of her swift grace caught at his senses. The piercing sweetness of her seized at his heart, arrested his breath—and then the touch of her hand upon his shoulder kept him from rising.
"Is it true?" she cried to him under her breath. "Is it true? Lord Sydney tells me that if you had stayed in your yacht, gathered your ships, fought the Fleet, hanged the Lord Protector——"
"And been a traitor, eh?" he continued, smiling.
"You could have conquered the world?"
"Yes, I suppose so." He rattled the handcuffs which bound his wrists, and laughed. "Of course I could—oh, any time these ten years past until I became the Queen's prisoner. Conquered the world? What was the good of that?"
"And you a prisoner!"