"Then you do not believe in the possibility of a reconciliation between the king and Parliament?"

So saying, Mary burst into tears and loud | and leave it to us soldiers to fight out this sobs. Although this scene was by no means struggle." the first of the same description, Milton allowed himself to be touched anew; he pushed his books aside, and tried to pacify his excited wife by his kisses and gentle remonstrances. Mary soon passed from one extreme to the other. The most playful mirth succeeded to the outburst of her despair, and while the tears were yet glistening on her rosy cheeks, her crimson lips smiled already, and her eyes beamed with arch gayety. She was a true daughter of Eve, whimsical as the sky in April, and fickle as the sea. Amid laughter and jests she hastened to the kitchen to prepare their supper.

At the wonted hour appeared the expected guest, whom Mary received more cordially than usual. Milton and Overton were soon engaged in an animated conversation concerning the desperate condition of the country.

"If the contest were confined to those two, peace might not be impossible; but the struggle is greater, it is much more important and extensive. It is the old war between liberty and tyranny, between despotism and republicanism, between intolerance and freedom of conscience. No mediation is possible between these two sides. Men no longer oppose men, but truth combats falsehood, liberty oppression, and despotism law and order. Mortal enemies may be reconciled, but immortal principles, eternal contrasts, do not admit of a reconciliation: their war will continue to the day of judgment."

"Yes," exclaimed Milton, enthusiastically, "it is thus that I imagined the struggle of the fallen angels with the host of the Lord, of light with darkness. I see my dreams embodied, and the creations of my imagination realized. It is not Charles and Parliament, but the great and mighty contrasts of the world, that are at

"I believe war is inevitable," said Overton. "Parliament is already levying troops and calling out volunteers for the impending struggle. I have likewise enlisted, and received an officer's commission." "I intend to take the same step," replied war, and light will and must triumph." Milton.

"You?" asked Overton, wonderingly. "That would be downright folly on your part."

"And why should I not, just as well as you, devote my life to my country, now that it is in danger?"

"Because you can be more useful to it with your head than we with our hands. Every one after his own fashion. The scholar is a soldier too; his weapon is the pen; it is even sharper than the sword, and more pointed than the lance. It requires more courage to declare and defend one's opinion than to rush into the thickest of the fight on the field of battle. The mind has achieved more victories than brute force. Therefore, stay quietly with your books,

The entrance of Mary, who brought in the supper, turned the conversation in another direction, and, for his wife's sake, Milton avoided further allusions to political affairs.

Unfortunately their domestic peace was disturbed again a few days afterward by the arrival of Mary's parents. Richard Powell, Milton's worthy father-in-law, and his wife paid their long-promised visit to London. On his journey he had passed through York and seen the king. His loyal heart was overflowing with devotion and fidelity to Charles and his cause. The honest country squire of Forest Hill did not conceal his political sentiments.

"How long will it be," said the loyal old gentleman, "until the king recovers his full authority and returns to London? I was at

So saying, the mother-in-law took leave of Milton's house. Mary soon followed her advice, and begged leave of her husband to pass a few weeks at the house of her parents. He willingly complied with her request, and permitted her to stay there till Michaelmas, although her absence inconvenienced him not a little. He hoped that this brief separation would exercise a favorable effect upon himself and his wife. A few days after her departure, his father suddenly arrived at his house. The old gentleman had removed to the residence of his younger son, a lawyer and royalist at Reading; but at the outbreak of hostilities between Charles and Parliament he deemed it prudent to take up his abode at Milton's house in London. He met with the most tender and reverential reception at the hands of his distinguished son. On account of his arrival, Milton desired his wife to return at an early day; but Mary did not seem disposed to comply with his wishes; she was too well pleased with the numerous amusements which she enjoyed at her father's house. Her brothers and relatives had sided with the king, whose prospects seemed far more hopeful at this juncture than heretofore.

York and saw him in person; he was so affable | meet there with any books, nor with learned. and condescending that I should have at once conversations, but with a good piece of roastdrawn my sword for him but for my advanced beef, foaming ale, and merry friends and acyears. The whole country, with the exception quaintances, who will be very glad to see you of the accursed capital, shares my sentiments; again." but London will certainly submit as soon as war breaks out in earnest. Hitherto the king has been by far too gracious and indulgent. If I were in his place, I should know what to do. I should summon all my loyal subjects and march directly upon the accursed city. I would catch a few of the ringleaders, have them strung up, and the whole fuss would be at an end." Milton contented himself with quietly listening to the narrow-minded opinions of the excellent squire; but when Mr. Powell rebuked his son-in-law for his political course, and particularly for his treatise against the authority of the bishops, he broke his silence, and replied to his father-in-law with manly dignity. The discussion terminated in a violent altercation, which led to the speedy departure of the old gentleman. Mary's mother, however, allowed herself to be persuaded by her daughter to stay yet a few days at Milton's house. Mrs. Powell improved this opportunity, like a genuine mother-in-law, to sow the seeds of as many weeds as possible in the young household; she encouraged Mary in her resistance, and in all sorts of whims. Never did she fail to disparage Milton in the eyes of his wife, to blame his retired life, and to deride his political views. Mary was unfortunately a most impressionable creature, and her mother exercised unlimited influence over her. The teachings of the old lady fell into a fertile soil and grew with amazing rapidity. On her departure, Mrs. Powell invited her daughter urgently to pass the summer at Forest Hill.

"You will be able," said the worthy matron, to recreate and divert yourself there. If you do not like to live in London, and with your husband, you will always find an asylum in your parental home. It is true, you will not

In compliance with the king's proclamation, the nobility of York and the adjoining counties flocked to the royal headquarters. Before long he was surrounded by a numerous retinue and army; his ministers, Falkland, Hyde, and Colepeper, had arrived from London; over forty peers followed them, and so did many of the commoners. From all quarters came country gentlemen, veteran officers, and cavaliers, with squads of men; it is true, these soldiers lacked arms, uniforms, ammunition, and, above all things, discipline; but in return they were

"I am willing," she said, clinging to him, "to conceal myself from all the world, as I know that my presence might involve you in unpleasant consequences. Since Billy Green left you, you have no footman; let me be your servant."

"That will not do."

"Oh, let me see to that, I have already thought of it before now, and procured a boy's suit, which I will don immediately."

animated with ardent zeal and courage. The | to prevail on her to leave York again, represtreets of York exhibited a most lively spec-senting to her that she could not possibly stay tacle. They were crowded with courtiers and there, so near the court, and in the midst of soldiers; the taverns were filled with jovial the camp. But she never tired of overwhelmguests, who never tired of drinking the king's ing him with tearful supplications. health. The cavaliers dragged their long swords noisily over the pavement, and the courtiers raised their heads again with their former haughtiness. The air resounded with derisive songs about Parliament, the Scots, and the Puritans, and they were never mentioned but in terms of boastful arrogance. The cavaliers were in the highest spirits, and vented their insolence in all sorts of defiant expressions and jests. Although the queen was still in Holland, where, disposing of the crown jewels, she had been enabled to purchase a cargo of arms and ammunition, most of her former courtiers and adherents had repaired to York. The handsome Percy, the dissipated Wilmot, Ashburnham, and O'Neale, had left their hiding-places; Jermyn had returned from France, and Thomas Egerton had hastened up from Wales as soon as he heard that hostilities were about to break out. All these young men joyfully looked forward to the campaign, which they considered an agreeable change in their mode of life. Nor were ladies wanting to the new court, and the cavaliers promised to perform the most valiant exploits under the eyes of their mistresses. The ladies were by no means idle; besides the usual court and love intrigues, they entered into communication with the most influential men in London, in order to win them over to the royal cause.

No sooner had Lucy Henderson heard of Thomas Egerton's arrival at York, than she hastened thither. Uttering a cry of joy, she rushed into the arms of her lover, who was not a little surprised at her arrival. She did not notice the confusion and coolness with which he received her, as the image of the absent queen still engrossed his heart. After the first outburst of her joy was over, he tried

She took an elegant doublet and a hat from the small bundle which she had brought with her. In a few moments she was disguised and appeared in the garb of a page. The close-fitting costume sat very well on her charming form, and Thomas could not refrain from admiring her appearance.

"And now," she added, smilingly, “you will not send me away any more. No one will recognize me, and I will be a more faithful footman to you than Billy Green ever

was."

"I am afraid you will be unable to bear the fatigues of military life. We shall set out in a few days, and attack the enemy."

"Have no fears on that head. I can bear any fatigue if I am allowed to share it with you. Henceforth I shall no longer leave your side. I shall accompany you, even though you go to the ends of the world; I shall nurse you, undergo all dangers with you, fight by your side, and, if you should be wounded, not leave your bedside. I will gladly do all, all; only do not drive away your poor Lucy, who for your sake sacrificed every thing, and has no one but you in the whole world."

Touched by her self-sacrificing love and generous devotion, Thomas was no longer able to withstand her entreaties, and kept Lucy with

him. No one recognized her in this new garb, | at York, fickle Dame Fortune seemed to smile

and all believed her to be her master's page.

on him again. Surrounded by experienced officers, who assisted him in reorganizing his army, he had obtained important victories over his less-disciplined adversaries. His adherents, with whom Richard Powell openly sympathized, now raised their heads proudly, and passed from the deepest dejection to the most overbearing arrogance. The family of Milton's young wife began to repent of having bestowed their daughter upon a man who

In the mean time events assumed a more menacing aspect. The king had so far completed his preparations that he caused his standard to be unfurled on the 29th of August. It was a stormy evening. The sun set in blood-red clouds. Charles appeared, attended by his most faithful adherents, on the castlehill at York, where a large crowd had assembled to witness the scene. Marshal Verney bore the colors containing the royal coat-of-sided with the opposition, and had incurred arms, and a hand pointing to the crown, which was surmounted by the inscription, "Render unto Cæsar the things which are Cæsar's." The ground was so stony that they were hardly able to dig a hole for the flag-staff. The crowd was profoundly impressed with the ceremony, and the king looked even gloomier | than usual. Even the arrogant cavaliers abstained from jesting; they foresaw the sufferings which awaited them. The profound silence was broken only by the flourishes of the bugles and the deep roll of the drums. A herald read in a loud voice the declaration of war against the rebellious Parliament. All then took off their hats and shouted, "God save the king!"

The same night the storm redoubled in violence and upset the ill-fastened flag-staff. This occurrence was considered a bad omen by Charles's partisans.

CHAPTER XVI.

SEPARATION OF MILTON AND HIS WIFE.

THE summer was drawing to a close, and Mary had not yet returned to her husband's house. She did not answer his repeated requests and letters. However, her parents were most to blame for this unpardonable conduct. Since the king had planted his standard

the displeasure of the court by his work against the bishops. They feared lest this union should discredit their loyal sentiments, and stain the honor of their escutcheon. Selfinterest, too, influenced their course on this occasion, inasmuch as they expected that the king, in case he should recover his power, as seemed more than probable now, would reward their fidelity in the most liberal manner. Mary was weak enough to listen to their insinuations, although she still loved her husband. Her mother intentionally withheld Milton's letters from her, so that in this respect she was much less guilty than she seemed to be. At times she felt remorse, and made up her mind to return to London and to her husband; but these better resolves were always nipped in the bud by her own frivolity and the bad advice of her parents. Milton's pride was wounded in the most painful manner; he resolved to make another attempt to lead his disobedient wife back to the path of duty. For this purpose he requested his friend Overton to go to Forest Hill and bring Mary back to London. This choice was not a happy one; the young wife had always felt a great aversion to the grave and almost gloomy friend of her husband. If Milton himself had gone to her, she would surely have yielded and followed him; but she received his messenger with a coldness bordering on disdain.

"My friend Milton has sent me to you,"

"But, mother—" interposed Mary, timidly. "Let me speak out; I will make a fitting reply to this gentleman. My child is too good for a schoolmaster, who makes a precarious living by giving lessons to naughty boys. Our family is highly respected all over the country, and even his majesty (God save him!) knows us well. Instead of appreciating the honor we conferred upon him by this union, weakness. However, she soon dried her Mr. Milton disgraces us and ruins our reputa- | tears, and her rosy face beamed with childish